Celeste
Father Thomas sits across from me, behind his desk. He seems so much more intimidating when I don’t want to be here. I have no idea what I was initially drawn to. He abused my trust, dragged me into a sinister world that held me in its clutches.
“I trust you are ready for our confession tonight?” He doesn’t look at me when he says this, continuing to mull over the papers in front of him instead.
“Father Thomas, I don’t think I can join you anymore.”
He stops flipping through the pages and lifts his head, his eyes glowering. “I don’t believe you have a choice.”
“I don’t want to do this anymore.” My voice shakes.
“You don’t wish to fulfil your godly purpose? You want to turn your back on all we’ve achieved together.”
“Father Thomas-”
“Silence!” He shoves everything off his desk in one fluid motion, walking around the desk to stand in front of my face. “Kneel.” he demands, but I stay seated. He straightens, forcing me to rise as he grips my throat. “I believe I told you to kneel.”
Once I'm out of my chair, he forces me downward. . I struggle against him, trying to catch my breath, my hands closing over his, my eyes bulging painfully. I fall to my knees, and he lets go of my neck. “It’s seems you’ve grown a conscious. It wouldn’t have something to do with the fact that you’re Mr. Michael’s whore, would it?
He walks across the room, and I hear a key turning in the lock. I should have known better than to defy him. I turn toward him. “Father, forgive me -”
“You know the price of sin.” He opens a cupboard and pulls out a studded whip. He’s used it on me before. I shudder at the memory.
“Undress.” he commands. When I don’t make a move to do as he asks, he pulls my headpiece off, flinging it across the room. He then tugs at my tunic, tearing it to get it off me. He tears my bra off of me then tips my head up to look at him, tears streaming down my face.
“I am sorry, Father, I will do better.”
“Yes, you will.” he sneers, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants. They drop, his cock springing free. Gripping my face painfully, he shoves himself into my mouth. I gag, pulling away, clawing at his thighs which earns me a slap across my face. I fall to the ground and curl up.
“Disobedience will not be tolerated.” Father Thomas barks as I cover my ears with my hands. I know better than anyone how true that is.
The first hit has me screaming in agony, the skin on my arms burning. I hear a knock at the door, and I shout for help. This only angers my tormenter further, resulting in him bringing the whip down again, harder this time.
“Celeste!” I hear Priest who starts pounding at the door.
“Priest!” I manage to call out, earning me a kick to the ribs. “Please, Father Thomas.” He pulls me up by my hair, shoving me over his desk.
“You only had to obey, to do as you’re told. Now look what you’ve done.”
I try to struggle free, but he’s too strong. I feel the material of my underwear being ripped from me, stinging my skin. He pries open my thighs, and I feel the tears slip from my eyes into my hair.
There is a loud thud behind me, and suddenly, the weight of Father Thomas is lifted off me. “Get off her, you dirty fucker!” Priest yells.
I stand and back into a corner, shivering as Priest slams a fist to Father Thomas’s temple over and over again. Punches rain down on Father Thomas's face until there is so much blood, he’s difficult to recognize. Nuns start filing in, Sister Concessa amongst them, who yells, and tries to pull Priest off Father Thomas.
Everything feels like it's moving in slow motion as someone hands me a coat to drape over my body. Priest stops hitting Father Thomas long enough to focus his attention on me, then he looks around the room, noticing the nuns who have gathered to watch the scene. They stare at him like he is the bad guy despite the fact that Father Thomas is half naked. It should be obvious to them what happened here, and yet they throw daggers at me with their eyes. I wrap the coat around me and hurry out of the room, pushing through the small crowd, my ears ringing as my feet slap against the tiles. I make it to my room and shut the door behind me, my chest heaving. I drag myself across the room to sit on my bed letting the tears I’d held at bay, fall as I realize that everything is a mess, and it is all my fault. I never imagined that I could be anything other than the vile human Father Thomas created, not until I met a man that didn’t desired me for sadistic reasons. I thirsted for blood, and I took it, over and over again. I deserve what Father Thomas did to me. I was wrong to deny him my body. I don’t deserve someone like Priest. That is not in the cards for someone like me. I have taken lives, willingly, and this is my penance.
Priest slams through my door, jarring me from my thoughts. “Are you all right?” His long hair is loosened from the ponytail he usually wears, his lip is cut, and the front of his shirt has blood on it.
I nod as he takes a step closer, running my hands through my hair. This entire day has been exhausting. My head pounds and all I want to do is lay my head down and drift off into oblivion.
There is no rest for the wicked.
“You have to leave, Priest. You don’t belong here.” I hear myself speak, but there is no conviction in my voice. I hang my head in my hands. I can hear commotion outside my door.
“We are going to leave. It’s all arranged. We never have to come back here. ” He kneels down in front of me.
I can’t bear to look him in the eye. What I’m about to say will change things, but I know it is something I must do. “I’m not leaving with you.” I say the words knowing it is not what he wants to hear.
“What the hell are you talking about? We spoke about this. You can’t stay here. Not after that. After what he did. Look at me,” he grips my chin, turning my head toward him, “look at me.”
I let myself look into his eyes, they’re warm and pleading, as welcoming as the thought of freedom. I let myself get lost in them one last time. “This is who I am, Priest. I’m not going to change. I can’t be what you need me to be.”
“I don’t need you to be anything other than you, Celeste.” He leans closer to me.
“This is my home. It’s where I belong.” I push his hand away, looking out of the window, needing to focus on anything but him.
“Are you even listening to yourself? You’ve been abused, tormented. Did you forget what just happened?” he stares at me, brows furrowed.
I let out a breath. “I disobeyed him. I went against my vows, to the church, to God. He was only trying to show me that.”
“Don’t let them lie to you. You’ll break if you remain here. They’ll destroy you.”
“Nobody is lying to me. Everything was fine until you came along. I want you to leave.” I rise from my bed, heading to the door. “I don’t want you here.”
“You’re afraid, I get that.” He walks toward me, his hands wrapping around my shoulders. “But, you can’t keep lying to yourself that any of this is okay. The scars on your body, they’re proof of how utterly wrong this whole situation is.”