Page 12 of Unholy Fate

I took another step, not wanting to eavesdrop, but Serena’s strained tone made me linger.

“I just don’t know if I’m ready to fully commit myself to the church,” Serena said, her words laced with uncertainty.

Father Hudson responded, “It’s natural to have doubts, Serena. The path of faith is not always easy. Tell me more about what you’re struggling with.”

A pang of jealousy stabbed through me. I’d hoped to speak today with Father Hudson. While he was a busy man, he was also good at helping me figure out knotty problems of faith. Somehow, healwayshad the right bit of scripture or quote to help me throughwhatever I was struggling with. I wished he was guiding me right now, not her. I’d had so many failures over the past few days.

As he continued speaking to Serena in that calm, compassionate way of his, envy coiled in my gut.

“I don’t know how to say this without sounding like…like a–aharlot,” Serena said, and despite myself, I leaned closer, eyes widening in surprise, hungry to hear more.

“I’m sure it’s nothing we can’t figure out with the Lord’s help. You can confide in me, that’s what priests are for. This is a safe place to confess, Serena,” Father Hudson said.

“Okay.” Serene sighed. “I just...I love sex, Father,” Serena said. “I love how it feels, the intimacy of connecting with someone that way. The physical pleasure, all of it.”

Heat crept into my cheeks, partly from embarrassment at the topic but also from a flicker of self-righteous superiority. At least I don’t have that problem, I reassured myself. I’ve mastered my base desires. I told myself that I never even struggled with lustful urges.

As badly as I wanted to keep listening, guilt pricked at me and I finally forced myself to walk away, silently adding “envy” to my growing tally of the day’s sins to confess later. My mind replayed Serena’s intimate admission, making me feel strange just for having overheard it. I quickened my pace to the chapel, desperate to immerse myself in cleansing prayer.

I needed to clear my mind, to focus on God.

After evening prayers, I retreated to my simple room, the events of the day weighing heavily on my mind. I’d decided to pray a rosary tonight before I slept.

“Help me, Mary, pray for me to be strong against temptation,” I murmured, thinking of my transgressions. “I allowed envy into my heart today, begrudging the time Father Hudson spent counseling Serena. I entertained uncharitable notions toward Frank, instead of compassion. I know you are Mercy...”

Kneeling beside my narrow bed, I crossed myself and began to pray the rosary, running my fingers over the familiar wooden beads, the comfort of the familiar words wrapping me like a loving blanket as I meditated on the mysteries of soul and sin.

Feeling better as I finished the final prayer, I knew confessing all this would help even more. Doing penance and praying for the grace to overcome my weaknesses was second nature for me. “Mother of God, in Your Mercy, hear and answer me…”

After several minutes more of contrite prayer, I rose, my heart lighter, and prepared for bed. I changed into my plain cotton nightgown, the fabric rough against my skin. A strange melancholy filled me as I braided my hair for sleep while staring at my reflection.

I crawled into bed and pulled the thin blanket up. An odd sense of unease prickled along my spine, but I was too tired to examine it further. Sleep quickly overtook me, dragging me down into an unsettling dream.

Standing in an opulent ballroom unlike anything I had ever seen, I stared around me. Gleaming onyx floors stretched out before me, shot through with veins of deep ruby that pulsed with an otherworldly light. The same eerie red glow emanated from the crystal chandeliers overhead, casting distorted shadows on the walls.

Music played in the background, a sweet rhythmic air played on violin.

All around me, men and women dressed in extravagant and revealing clothing twirled and laughed, their movements fluid and entrancing. Many of their outfits were made of gauze, concealing the bodies underneath hardly at all.

Seeking a safe place for my eyes, I looked down at myself and gasped. Instead of my cotton nightgown, I was wearing a stunning crimson dress that caressed my body like a second skin, slit to my upper thigh to allow me to move. My loose hair cascaded in glossy waves over my shoulders and down my back.

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried fervently to wake up from this unsettling dream. How had my mind taken me to this den of luxury and excess? Panic rising in my throat, I tried to back away, but the dancing couples hemmed me in on all sides. Their laughter took on a mocking edge, echoing discordantly in my ears.

A man emerged from the swirling crowd, his presence magnetic and alluring. Though his face remained shadowed, the intensity of his gaze on me made my skin burn. He moved with a predatory grace, the other dancers parting before him like water.

“You are breathtaking,” he said, in a voice like silk, smooth and warm. He held out a hand to me. I hesitated. Every fiber of my being screaming at me to run, to flee the temptation this stranger embodied.

Yet somehow, I found myself placing my hand in his, a thrill running from my hand to hidden parts of me at the contact.

His touch radiated warmth and power unlike anything I had ever experienced. It was as if an electric current passed betweenus, waking something deep within me that I didn’t know was sleeping.

In a quick smooth movement, he pulled me close and rested his hand on the small of my back. I should have pushed him away, should have protested the intimacy of the gesture, but my arms didn’t want to move.

As he led me in a dance, a rush of unfamiliar sensations flooded me. My body moved instinctively with his, our steps perfectly synchronized as if we had danced together a thousand times before.

The scene around us shifted abruptly. The music became wild and the couples around us threw away their light clothing. Their dances devolved into naked bodies writhed together on the floor in a mass of tangled limbs and glistening skin. Moans and sighs of pleasure filled the air, mixing obscenely with the music.

I stared in shock, my cheeks burning with embarrassment and something else, something darker that I didn’t want to acknowledge. A hidden desire to watch, to see what they would do to each other. I should look away, but I couldn’t tear my gaze from the debauchery unfolding before me.

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