Curse of the Nun

by Kathryn Dahne

  That would give her time to finish cleaning up the mess in the kitchen.

  Donna whirled around, pushing up her sunglasses to fix Anna with a piercing look. Anna fought against the instinct to respond aggressively in kind. In and out, she told herself. In and out.

  “It’s my house, I’ll start wherever I want,” Donna informed her curtly.

  She scowled at Anna for a few moments before heading over to the stairs. Anna watched her go with an incredulous expression. Donna tossed her keys over her shoulder as she hit the first step, and Anna managed to stop them from hitting her in the face more from dumb luck than actual reflexes.

  “On second thought, turn my AC on. I want to be thorough.”

  Anna watch her ascend with all the haughty dignity of a returning queen and could only mouth the word “unbelievable” to herself in response.

  Anna had just finished cleaning up the last of the ceramic shards when she heard a loud thump rumble through the second-floor overhead.

  “Oh no,” she muttered.

  That was never a good noise. She wondered if it was that stupid box again.

  “Oh no, what?” Donna asked, entering the kitchen suddenly and startling Anna.

  Anna took a couple breaths to calm herself.

  “Was that you up in the spare room?” She asked.

  Donna gave her an appraising look. “I was in the office. There is chipped paint on the walls; it’s fifty-five dollars to repaint it. I’m going to need that by Thursday.”

  Another thud sounded from overhead. Anna tried not to wince.

  Donna glared at her accusingly.

  “That better not be a busted pipe,” she said scathingly.

  Anna wasn’t sure how a busted pipe would have been her fault in the first place, but she knew better than to attempt to say so. The joke about the gun in her purse was starting to seem more like a viable option by the second. Anna firmly reminded herself that she wanted to move into the new house and not jail.

  Donna critically inspected the floor. “Hardwood is scuffed. That’s a two-hundred-dollar fix. I’ll need that by Thursday.”

  Anna clenched her fists in irritation as Donna moved over to the cupboards and opened them.

  “Don’t forget your dishes, I’ll need those out by Thursday.”

  Anna gaped at the cupboards, unable to process what she was seeing. Neatly stacked ceramic dishes, whole and sound, sat innocently in the open cupboards - the very same dishes she was certain she had just thrown out in pieces moments before.

  Aunt Donna continued to talk, oblivious to Anna’s inner turmoil. “So between the paint, the writing on the wall, and the hardwood, that’s—”

  “Wait, what writing on the wall?”

  Anna’s overloaded brain snapped back into the moment.

  “In the guest room, there is crayon on the wall.”

  “I was just in there, and I didn’t see anything,” Anna protested.

  Warning bells were going off in Anna’s head. Something was very wrong here. Anna just hoped that it wasn’t something wrong with her. She had thrown out those pills last night, hadn’t she?

  Donna just shrugged, completely dismissive. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

  They both looked up as the sound of another muffled thud came from overhead.

  “I’m calling my maintenance guy,” Donna said decisively. “You’ll be at the house all day, won’t you? I don’t like him to be here by himself.”

  There was a pointed implication in her expression that she didn’t particularly like Anna being here by herself either.

  “Do I have to be?” Anna asked.

  She honestly didn’t want to stay in the house another second. Too many strange things were happening and the little hairs on the nape of her neck stood on end. Some tiny voice of instinct in the back of her mind urged her to run.

  “I need to be at the new house by six,” she added.

  Not that Donna cared for one second about other people’s schedules. Least of all Anna’s.

  “Yes,” Donna replied. “I’ll tell him to be here at six-thirty.”

  Anna gaped at her in disbelief. She knew she shouldn’t be as surprised by the nerve of the woman as she was. Donna left with the air of someone who fully expected to get her way in all things.

  “Unbelievable,” Anna muttered under her breath. “What a bitch.”

  Chapter 4:

  Having finally worked up the courage to go inside after avoiding it most of the afternoon, Anna peered into the room that had been Claire’s. Sure enough, the word “STAY” was scrawled in red crayon on the wall opposite of the bed. The letters were angry and harsh looking, each one easily the height of her whole hand. There was no way to miss them.

  Anna ran her fingers across the word, noting the waxy texture under her fingertips where the crayon had been applied with a good bit of force.

  A feeling of deep unease settled in her gut. It certainly wasn’t Claire’s handwriting. More importantly, Anna knew, she knew, that the writing hadn’t been there when she’d done her walkthrough of the room before Donna had arrived. Anna would have been inclined to think that Donna had written it herself, if she hadn’t known the woman would never stoop to devaluing her own property to get one over on her. Plus, there was no way in hell that Donna would ever want her to “stay”. She tried to run through every logical explanation she could think of to rationalize the bizarre events that had occurred over the past twenty-four hours. She was starting to come to the conclusion that there wasn’t going to be a rational explanation.

  She opened up her phone to snap a picture of the word, needing proof in case it, too, decided to inexplicably vanish like the word on the hardwood flooring. Was this just her own mind trying to play tricks on her? Maybe her own fears of inadequacy were manifesting as some sort of hallucination to keep her trapped in her past.

  Or was it something worse?

  She looked down at the picture and almost choked on her next inhale. In the photo, the “T” had been replaced by a sharp, silver crucifix. Instantly, Anna’s eyes snapped back up to the wall.

  Nothing but uneven red crayon. Not a crucifix in sight.

  She almost jumped out of her skin as her phone rang in her hand. Off balance, Anna answered it without looking.

  “Hello?” she asked.

  Any voice would have been welcomed at that moment. Even Donna’s.

  “Anna? It’s Lex. I saw you had called—”

  Anna promptly panicked and hung up. Nope. Lex was the last person in the world she needed to talk to right now.

  “Shit,” she muttered.

  She needed to pull herself together. This was getting out of hand. She tried to focus on the new house, all the things she was going to do with it. She just had to get through one more day. One day. She could do that.

  Maybe she was just overly tired. Anna got up and headed towards what had been the bedroom she and Mike had shared, hoping a nap would force the world to make sense again. At the very least, it would make the remaining time go by faster.

  She flopped down on the neatly made comforter with a weary sigh, staring up at the featureless ceiling overhead for a few moments. As she drifted off she couldn’t help but fixate on the part of her that still felt unsure about this move. It wasn’t that she didn’t love the new house, or Mike, or the future he was painting for them. She did, of course she did, but a large part of her still felt like she didn’t deserve it.

  Anna Winter: foster-kid, ex-junkie. She was a high school dropout with a GED. It had been easy to understand why Lex had wanted to be with her. They had both been two kids from the wrong side of the tracks. Maybe they had made some silly vows about wanting to take on the world together, but Anna had never really expected her life to be more than dead-end jobs and a two-room flop house that they could barely keep up paying rent on.

  Getting pregnant with Claire had changed everything. Anna had realized that as awful as
she felt her life was, or how much she maybe deserved it, that it wasn’t want she wanted for her daughter. She didn’t want to become like her own mother, her daughters forcibly taken away from her by the state because she cared more for chasing her next high than feeding her children. She couldn’t stay with a man just because her teenage self had thought it was love and couldn’t imagine anyone better wanting her anyways.

  When Anna drowsily turned her head to the side to look at the clock on the nightstand, it boldly displayed 6:15PM.

  “Almost there,” she told herself soothingly.

  Her phone buzzed to indicate another incoming call. This time Anna checked the ID instead of blindly answering it.

  “INCOMING CALL: LEX”

  Anna resolutely punched decline and put the phone aside on the nightstand. Lex was not someone she felt she could talk to with her head in this much of a mess. He shouldn’t even be calling her. The terms of the restraining order were very clear on that point.

  Maybe she should have changed her phone number as Mike had suggested once, but Anna had been depressingly certain that Lex would have figured out the new one somehow. Or worse still, actually shown up in person.

  She rolled over onto her stomach and pressed her face into the pillow, letting one arm drape listlessly over the side of the bed. She was so ready to be out of this place. In the chaotic riot of her thoughts it took Anna a moment to process the unwelcome feeling of chilled fingers slipping between her own.

  She screamed and tried to rip her hand away.

  The icy fingers squeezed tighter and yanked hard. The force of it wrenched her shoulder, sending Anna sprawling to the floor.

  Panting heavily, Anna struggled wildly as she tried her best to free herself from the preternatural grip. Her free hand fought desperately for purchase on the floor, making no difference as she was drug under the bed. Almost as soon as she was under, Anna felt herself flung hard out the other side.

  Anna crashed into the wall with force, disoriented and trying to frantically pull herself back to her feet. She sprang towards the door in terror, unable to process anything other than the overwhelming need to get away. She desperately twisted the doorknob, her sweat slicked hands unable to find a firm grip. She screamed in frustration. It felt as if it had been locked from the outside.

  “SOMEBODY HELP!” Anna pounded frantically against the door.

  The icy fingers returned, snaring themselves in her hair. The hand grasped tight, and Anna shrieked as her head was ripped back.

  SLAM!

  Anna’s vision spotted out as her head connected violently with the wooden door. She crumpled to the ground. Dazed and whimpering in the wake of the sharp pain sparking across her forehead, she felt something clamp around her ankles, an unseen force, dragging her backwards across the floor towards the bed again.

  Anna grunted, managing to catch hold of one of the bed legs. The thing kept pulling at her. She felt her nails digging into the wood, gouging deep like claws, then giving way as her fingernails ripped back under the strain of the force that had her in its grip. She screamed again; in pain, in fear. In animal defiance.

  The dragging force stopped as suddenly as it had started, as if her shout had driven it off. She wasted no time in scrambling back to her feet and dashing back to the door in futile hope. She slammed both her fists against it again.

  “PLEASE! SOMEBODY HELP ME!”

  The door shook as something knocked back from the other side.

  “Anna? Are you okay?”

  Anna almost wept in relief at the sound of Mike’s voice.

  “Mike! Someone’s in here!”

  “Okay, I’m coming in.”

  “Hurry, I’m hurt,” she whimpered.

  Anna backed away, expecting Mike to come crashing through like some action hero cop. The door gently swung inwards a few inches and then stopped.

  Trembling all over, Anna pulled it completely open.

  “Mike?”

  The hallway was empty. No Mike. No sign that he had ever been there.

  The hairs on the back of Anna’s neck stood on end and she whirled to face whatever threat was approaching from behind.

  Nothing. The room was empty.

  Grave-cold fingers slid across her face from behind. Anna made a choked noise of terror in the back of her throat as she frantically pried them off of her face. She sprinted towards the adjoining bathroom the instant she was free. The connecting door slammed shut behind her. Instinct was shouting at her that she needed to hide. She tried to open the door to the linen closet first, but it was shut as tight as the bedroom door had been earlier. Anna crawled into the tub as the sound of footsteps approached the bathroom door.

  Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.

  Anna could barely think around the fear that clawed its way up her throat. She tried to keep her breaths shallow and quiet as she curled up in the tub. It was the only other spot that offered some shelter.

  The connecting door to the bedroom slowly creaked open. The sound of steps padded across the tile toward her. She bit at the inside of her cheeks to suppress a whimper.

  Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.

  The footsteps halted and, for a moment, the whole world seemed to hold its breath.

  A hot jet of water from the tap overhead spurted down directly into Anna’s face. She shrieked reflexively, shocked, and then choked, the torrent of water gushing into her mouth and up her nose. Hacking and spluttering, she tried to push herself up into a sitting position.

  Smack!

  Her face smashed into what felt like a glass barrier. Anna found herself suddenly entombed in the tub. Her bloodied fingertips slid across the underside of the barrier, leaving smears of red in their wake. She couldn’t help the animalistic noise of fear as a dark shape loomed above her. Anna got her first look at her attacker, the image distorted by blood and steam.

  A shadowed form in a nun’s dark habit was staring down at her with a palpable feeling of triumphant cruelty. Sinister eyes peered out of sunken sockets. Her lips were cracked and dark veins stood out against pallid grey skin. She reached out and placed her boney hand against the barrier.

  Bloodied letters scrawled themselves across the glass beneath the clawed fingers of the nun. “STAY” spelled itself out before Anna’s eyes in harsh strokes.

  “LET ME GO!” Anna screamed back at her.

  The water had risen quickly. Anna felt it lapping at the side of her face, trickling into her ears as she thrashed. She pressed herself tight against the glass trying to escape it. She was running out of time. She was running out of air.

  “I can’t breathe,” she cried.

  The nun just watched her, unmoved by Anna’s pleas.

  Anna drew a last frantic breath before she leaned back underwater and kicked up with all her might.

  She flailed into a sitting position as the barrier vanished against her feet. She half-crawled over the edge of the bathtub. She was soaked and shaking, but somehow managed to pull herself up to her feet. Her eyes darted around the room. Her shoulders were tense. Anna braced herself, looking for the next attack.

  The nun was gone. She looked back. The tub was empty and dry.

  Chapter 5:

  Anna tiptoed her way to the door, hoping she could open it this time. The handle turned smoothly in her hand and she cautiously stepped into the bedroom. There were no signs of the violent struggle that had taken place. Sunlight poured in from the windows, bathing the room in soft light. The air was still and serene. Even the bed leg that had been gouged and bloodied by her fingers was pristine once more.

  Her purse sat next to the bed where she had dropped it earlier, completely undisturbed. Anna glanced at the bedside table where her phone still rested. She needed to call for help. Not that she would have the faintest idea of how to explain what happened. She just needed to get out.

  She sucked in a deep breath and took another wary look around the room, not trusting the unsettling normalcy ar
ound her. She quickly crossed the short distance to retrieve her phone. She picked it up, punching in 911 with fingers that left small smudges of blood in their wake.

  “Martin’s Pizza,” a voice on the other end of the line responded promptly.

  “What?”

  Anna pulled her phone away from her ear to stare at it in disbelief. The display clearly read “EMERGENCY SERVICES.”

  “You there?” the voice on the other end of the line asked.

  “Hello? I need help,” Anna said into the phone.

  “Wait a second,” the voice on the other end replied. “You’re the lady that didn’t pay for her pizza!”

  “What?”

  “I came up short because of you!” The voice continued indignantly.

  Anna hung up. What the hell? She jabbed in 911 a second time.

  “911, what is your emergency?” A voice responded promptly.

  Anna felt a rush of relief.

  “Hello, my name is Anna Winter, I’m at—”

  “Didn’t your mother teach you not to hang up on people?” The voice replied in a nasty tone.

  Anna kicked viciously at the nightstand, frustration and fear curling hot in her stomach.

  “Listen, asshole—”

  She was cut off by a demonic snarl.

  A multi-tonal voice, like a thousand creatures screaming at once, hissed out of the phone. “No, you listen, you fucking junkie.”

  Anna froze. The hot rage turned instantly to ice.

  “Who is this?” She asked.

  “Stay with me Anna, don’t leave me like you left Lex.” Anna could barely process what was happening. So many emotions were bombarding her at once.

  “Lex almost killed me!” She shouted.

  He hadn’t given her another choice. She’d had to leave him, for Claire’s sake as much as her own. Even if that decision had almost cost her everything in the end.

  “It’s a shame he didn’t succeed,” the voice snarled in an inhuman tone.

  The phone at her ear sparked and Anna dropped it to the floor with a yelp. She watched the screen as it bubbled and hissed, the plastic casing twisting itself into unrecognizable shapes. Her heart was slamming hard against her ribcage. She didn’t understand what was happening at all, her fear spiraling deeper.