Morally Blasphemous (Morally Questionable Book 2)

by Veronica Lancet

  "You... you..." I sputter.

  His hand goes to his cheek and slowly rubs it.

  "Fucking whore!" He spits out a second before his hand wraps itself around my throat, restricting my airflow. He pushes me backwards until I bump into the altar table. I try to gasp for air, but he continues to tighten his hold.

  "No one would even miss you if you're gone." The malice dripping from his voice is palpable... I should have listened to my gut instinct. Instead... Lord knows what he did to my Claudia. That's the thought that spurs me forward. He touched my Claudia. I spread my arms behind me on the table, my hands searching for something... anything that I can use to make him let me go. The seconds trickle by, and I feel myself fading.

  No!

  It's at that moment that my hand latches onto something... a knife. I wrap my fingers around the hilt and with all my remaining strength; I plunge the sharp side into his neck. His eyes go wide, staring at me as if such a scenario is entirely impossible. He slowly lets go of my throat, his hand going to the knife embedded in his flesh.

  The moment my throat is free, I cough, trying to catch my breath.

  Father Guerra has the brilliant idea to pull the knife out of his neck. Blood gushes out in spurts, flowing like a geyser out of the wound and onto the floor. He gasps a few times, his knees buckling under his weight. He collapses on the floor... and doesn't move.

  I'm still struggling to get my bearings when I realize the extent of my actions.

  I... killed him.

  When that realization dawns, I start freaking out. I killed a person... a human being. I almost start hyperventilating at the thought, but then I remember why I killed him. He touched Claudia... He was going to kill me... There's a war raging inside of me. I can't decide if I should regret what I did or not. There's this part of me that relishes that a monster is dead; but there is also another part of me that can't believe I've taken a life with my own hands. I try to rationalize it. It's not the end of the world, right? He was a wicked man. Yes... He was an evil man, and the world is better off without him. But what about me? What will happen to me when they find out? They'll probably send me to prison... No! That's not an option. I can't leave Claudia. I can't leave my daughter alone.

  Think, Catalina, think!

  My resolve renewed; I go into fixing mode. I can't allow this to separate me from my daughter. He won't win!

  Think, Catalina!

  It's a Sunday night... no one will know if I get rid of the body. Yes... I just have to get rid of the evidence and no one will know. I pick up the knife and using a cloth from the altar, I wipe it clean and I deposit it back in its original spot. But looking around the chapel, I realize I'm in a pickle. What do I do with the body? There's absolutely no way I can get rid of a body on my own...

  Think, Catalina... Think!

  Eyes wide, I search my surroundings for some inspiration. Then I spot the confessional booth. It could work... for the moment. I grab onto Father Guerra's hands, and I pull him towards the confessionals. It's not easy, considering the discrepancy in our sizes and my lack of strength. But eventually I do it.

  Leaving his body on the ground, I prop open the door to the confessional booth, and try my best to cram his body inside, making sure nothing is sticking out. Unfortunately, there's a trail of blood on the floor. Letting out a big breath, I close the door, and I clean up the blood. I do my best, but with limited resources, I'm only messily spreading it around.

  The adrenaline is starting to wear off, and panic sets in. I can't just leave a dead man in the confessional booth. But I also can't drag him off by myself to bury him somewhere. I'll need someone else to help me dispose of the body. I don't know what I'm going to do after I get rid of the body, but I'll cross that bridge later.

  Placing my hand over my heart, I try to regulate my breathing. I sneak a glance to the confessional and wait again for the guilt to assault me. It doesn't happen. Just thinking about that man touching Claudia... I shake my head. I need to think this through. First thing first, I can't go out with my bloody clothing. I look around, trying to think about my options. I spot the organ in the opposite aisle. The bench is covered with a red cloth. I quickly head over, and I'm happy to see it's a fairly long piece of material.

  Divesting of the stained dress, I drape the cloth over my body and I tie a knot around my shoulder in a Grecian style. Then, with my already soiled dress, I wipe down the floor again, in the most obvious spots.

  I'll do the rest later.

  Closing my eyes for a second, I try to calm down again. I can do this... I can do this. With one last glance at the chapel, I head out and go straight to the room, careful to avoid populated areas. When I reach the room, I open it slowly, and I see Sisi on the bed with Claudia. Sisi's head snaps towards the door.

  "Lina?"

  "Can you come out for a second? And bring me a dress." Sisi frowns, but does as I say, asking no questions.

  I wait outside for a few minutes and then Sisi appears with a dress.

  "What is going on?" Her eyes go wide as she takes in my appearance. I must look a fright.

  "Something bad happened. Like terrible."

  "Lina... you're scaring me."

  "Did Claudia tell you anything?" I ask, almost dreading the answer.

  "No... she only mentioned you were with Father Guerra." The moment she mentions Father Guerra, I break down.

  "He was touching her..." I whisper, and tears finally start pouring.

  'What do you mean?" Sisi asks.

  "He was touching her under her clothes..."

  "No!" She exclaims, horrified.

  "Where is he? What happened?"

  "I... I killed him."

  "You're kidding."

  "No... I really killed him. I didn't mean it to but..."

  I tell her in detail everything that happened, including how I'd deposited the body in the confessional booth.

  After a prolonged silence, Sisi finally speaks.

  "We need to do something about that." I look at her, expecting her to hate me for being a murderess.

  "You... I killed a man." I repeat, waiting for condemnation.

  "Yes, and I would have killed him too. That wastrel! Now, about the confessional booth." She adds pensively.

  "That's why I came back. I can't do it alone. I know this is too much to ask but..."

  "No buts!" Sisi shuts me and continues. "Come on, dress, and we'll figure it out." She gives me a big hug and lets me change into something more decent.

  "I need to talk to Claudia first." I say, and she nods, stepping back to allow me into the room.

  "I'll be here. Let me know when to come in."

  I leave Sisi outside and tentatively open the door to the room.

  "Mamma!" Claudia exclaims and comes towards me. "I'm sorry." She mumbles and starts crying.

  "No, baby, no. It's not your fault."

  "But you were mad... you screamed at me. You never scream." She mumbles, her small hands rubbing at her eyes.

  "Shh.." I slowly pat her hair and lead her towards the bed.

  "Claudia, my love, please tell me... has Father Guerra touched you like that before?" I don't know how I manage to mask the tremor in my voice. Claudia raises her dewy green eyes to look at me.

  "Once... he told me he'd give me a chocolate every day if I let him." My heart is breaking as she tells me this.

  "Did he... did he do more than that?" I almost don't want to know, but I must.

  Claudia shakes her head.

  "Are you sure? You can tell mamma; I promise I will not get mad."

  "No." She shakes her head even harder. I want to believe her... My daughter... my daughter almost went through the same thing I did all those years ago. I bring her to my chest and I tighten my arms around her. She's fine... She's ok. And he's dead... He can't hurt her anymore. That's what I tell myself as I rock her in my arms.

  A while later, Claudia is deep asleep. Sisi takes me aside and tells me her idea.

  "It mi
ght work. No one will know if we bury him in the cemetery."

  "How are we going to carry him there, though?" I whisper back at her.

  "Your luggage case?" She suggests. That might just work.

  We empty the luggage of all its contents, and then we leave for the chapel.

  "Sisi, are you sure you want to do this? It's my fault... I can just tell them what happened." I don't want to drag her into my mess... The situation is getting out of hand. And it is my fault.

  "And who'd believe you? You already said he's from a prominent family. They probably have enough influence to make sure you get blamed for everything. Think about Claudia. What would happen to her without her mother?" She asks and I freeze. That's exactly what I'd been thinking about. What would happen to my daughter? Turning myself in doesn't seem like a good possibility, especially given that Father Guerra was Mother Superior's favorite.

  "What if Mother Superior was in on it too?" Sisi suddenly asks. I turn sharply.

  "What do you mean?"

  "She knows that when you are on duty, I take over watching Claudia. With me doing double the chores, Claudia would be left alone."

  "And vulnerable. You're right. He's been plying her with sweets to gain her trust since the beginning. And no one would have turned an eye if she went somewhere with Father Guerra. He's a priest after all." I add, but this just makes me even sicker to my stomach. Were they planning this? To defile my beautiful baby? I can barely control the rage I feel inside at the thought... but I know I can't regret killing him, even if it was in self-defense. He wanted to hurt my baby.

  Inside the chapel, we head straight for the confessional booth. Sisi is quiet as I open the door. She looks at Father Guerra's bloody body with an almost inscrutable expression.

  We open the suitcase and lay it on the ground. Then, the both of us grab onto Father Guerra and dump him in the suitcase.

  "He's too big." She scrunches her nose.

  "We just need to fold him a little." She tilts her head to the side as she considers this.

  "How about we try a fetal position?" She circles the suitcase, her face sporting a big frown. She's probably imagining the different angles.

  "Let's try." I shrug. We rotate his body, trying varying angles to fit him inside. Lucky for us, he's not a very tall male, probably only five inches taller than my own five-three frame. After much trial and error, he's folded nicely in the suitcase. I grab onto one zipper while Sisi holds onto the other, and we try to meet halfway. It takes a little sitting on top of it to make the suitcase close, but we manage.

  "Damn." She wipes the sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand.

  The convent has its own cemetery. Sacre Coeur has a history stretching back almost two hundred years, and this cemetery was inaugurated during the 1918 influenza outbreak. Since then, it's been used sparsely, when nuns pass away. The advantage is that the cemetery is located close to the chapel, so the body can be put to rest right after the religious services. There are maybe two administrative buildings that we have to pass on the way to the cemetery. Sisi's idea to place the body in the luggage was brilliant. The luggage's wheels make it easy to carry it towards the cemetery. Once there, we look for a hidden parcel, where the presence of fresh earth would go unnoticed. We find just the place, right next to a willow tree. The shadow cast from the tree should mask the turned earth.

  "Wait!" Sisi says and dashes towards one of the smaller sheds next to the cemetery. She only takes a few minutes before returning with two shovels.

  "Now's the hard part." She sighs and thrusts the shovel into the ground before scooping up some earth and dumping it to the side. I take the other shovel and do the same.

  It must be a couple hours later when, almost drenched in sweat; we finish digging.

  "Honestly, this wasn't that bad." Sisi's comments, and my head snaps towards her. Is she serious? "I think I'd rather dig up graves than wash dishes. Do you think I can apply for the position?" She's extremely serious as she asks this, and I can't help but laugh.

  "Sisi..." I start, but I can't stop laughing. "You really want to trade dishes for graves?"

  "It's still work." She shrugs, but I can tell she's amused as well.

  "Let's do this!" I bring forward the suitcase and together we throw it into the hole.

  "I say it's deep enough."

  "I think so." I agree.

  We grab the shovels once more and we cover the hole with earth. This doesn't take nearly as long and we soon find ourselves back at the chapel, trying to wipe away all evidence of the crime.

  Chapter Eight

  CLAUDIA HASN'T MENTIONED FATHER Guerra in the last few days. I'm happy that she doesn't seem to be traumatized by that event, but I guess she doesn't really understand what happened to her. I'd tried to talk to her and explain that what happened isn't ok, and that she should let no one touch her like that. She'd seemed more preoccupied with the fact that I'd yelled at her. I'd assured her several times it was not her fault, and that adults can misbehave too—the example being Father Guerra. Our discussions seem to have had an effect on her as she simply stopped bringing up the event.

  Sisi too pretended that our late-night criminal adventure did not happen. She did not mention Father Guerra even once, and everything went back to normal.

  Or so we thought.

  Not everyone had forgotten about Father Guerra, and a couple of days later, there were rumors circulating that he'd suddenly left. Some nuns said that Mother Superior was distraught by his sudden absence. After hearing everyone talk about Father Guerra, I cave and ask Sisi.

  "Do you think they'll look for him?"

  "Don't worry. There's no chance of them finding him, right? There's no trace of him." She answers in a hushed tone.

  No matter how much I'd tried to justify my actions, I still felt guilty about what I'd done. No matter how many times I tried to picture Father Guerra with his hand up Claudia's skirt, I still could not forget his eyes right before he'd died. I hadn't told Sisi, but Father Guerra had been plaguing my nightmares ever since that night. Before, it was just the monster with the amber eyes. Now... my nightmares have changed.

  They always start with that man... the one with the amber eyes. I can't make out his features, I just know he inspires such feelings of dread in my heart that I run. But he always catches up with me, pinning me from behind. Before, though, the dreams always ended with him lifting my skirt and forcing himself on me. Now... I fight back, and I push him off me. But when I try to defend myself, he turns into Father Guerra.

  And I kill him.

  Rationally, I thought I'd be able to forget all about it. My subconscious, however, seems opposed to the idea.

  That night, I dream again. Tossing and turning, I give up any hope for rest when I see it's almost six.

  I quietly get up and pour myself a glass of water.

  "You're not ok, are you?" Sisi props herself up in her bed, her eyes watching my every movement.

  I shake my head.

  "He deserved it, ok?" She pats the spot next to her, and I lie down.

  "I know that... in my head. But I still feel guilty."

  "Just try to forget about it. It will get easier with time." Sisi suggests.

  Just then, a scream permeates the air. I look at Sisi, frowning. Another scream, a different voice.

  Sisi scrambles out of bed, quickly putting on her habit.

  "What are you doing?" I hiss.

  "Aren't you curious?" She asks, and yet I hear yet another scream.

  I spare one look at Claudia and she's still deep asleep. Letting myself convinced by Sisi, I dress and locking the door, we head towards the origin of the sound.

  "I think it's the graph." Sisi points in that direction and starts running. Shaking my head, I follow. Maybe whatever it is will take my mind off Father Guerra for a moment.

  We reach the graph and see a bunch of nuns, all of them looking as if they've seen the very devil. Some are crossing themselves, some are kissing a cross, a
nd others are just kneeling and praying. Impatient, Sisi barges through the sea of nuns, taking me with her. But then she suddenly comes to a stop.

  "Mother of God... What..." Sisi mutters. She's standing in front of me, so I take two steps to the right so I can see what's in front of her. I stop with a gasp.

  The graph has a copy of Michelangelo's Pietà as its central piece. And the sculpture has been defiled in the worst manner.

  I almost gag at the sight—and smell.

  Instead of Christ's body lying in Mary's arms, it's Father Guerra's body. He is naked, his skin bloated and discolored. His previously pale skin is now brown with some purple spots. His torso has been cut open, his organs spilling out. I think I can make out his intestines draping down the indentations of Mary's dress. There are flies buzzing about and maggots crawling out of his chest cavity, some of them spilling over into the grass. There are some bugs dangling from Mary's face, trying to burrow into the open orifices. The smell of putrefaction that's making the bugs buzz with glee is causing nun after nun to collapse mid-prayer.

  But that's not even the worst.

  At the bottom of the statue, painted in blood, are five words.

  I KNOW WHAT YOU DID

  "Blasphemy!" one nun yells.

  Father Guerra's head is hanging loosely at the neck, the flesh thinned out by putrefaction and the many predators at play. Even now, it's moving ever so slightly up and down, the spine fully visible. The cervical vertebrae are straining to hold the weight of the head... until they can't anymore. The head falls with a thud, all the nuns scrambling back at the sound. It then rolls in the grass until it reaches the feet of a nun. She barely spares it a glance as she, too, falls to the ground.

  My hand shoots out, latching onto Sisi's arm. I try to steady myself, but my feet are swaying.

  "Lina?"

  "Who..." I whisper... "I can't."

  "We need to leave." Sisi grabs my hand and urges me towards the back. Just then, Mother Superior makes an appearance.