Nephilim and the Nun

Quinn:

I patiently waited for the woman for what felt like a whole day but couldn't have been more than a few hours. Tired of sitting on the sigil, I stood to my feet, pacing about the cell. If she was genuine, I couldn't tell. All I could do was hope it would be my chance of escaping my impending death. I paced around the cell till my feet began to ache, yet I didn't stop to sit. My ambition to escape was greater than the soreness of my aching feet.

A while later, the loud thudding of her now familiar footsteps resounded throughout the basement. A ray of hope came to life in my soul yet I tried my best not to be too hopeful but it was a lost battle. I couldn't help it. She emerged from the shadows, striding towards my cell with purposeful steps. Getting to the cell, she took out a cloth from the paper bag she was carrying and spread it on the floor before taking a seat. I watched with interest, wondering what she was up to. Next, she took out a food container, a bottle of water, and two spoons, placing them close to the bars where we could both reach for them. What the fuck is she up to? My subconscious gritted out.

"Seat. I delayed your meal in the morning so I could have an excuse to come back here".

Moving towards the bars, I took a seat opposite her, eyes staring intently into hers. Without uttering another word, she opened the food container and handed me a spoon. She dug into the food immediately, tasting it as she always does to confirm it's poison-free. I was agitated but I followed on with whatever she was doing.

After we devoured the food and washed it down with water, she packed the utensils back into the bag.

"Turn around". She commanded.

My gaze narrowed down on her. I didn't trust her.

"If you want to get out of here, you better obey. You do not have all the time in the world".

In the end, my will to escape won my skepticism. Standing to my feet, I turned around, praying it was for a good reason.

"You can turn back now".

When I did, I saw a black cassock lying on the cloth she was seated on, a pair of tiny frames beside it, the boots I'd requested, and scissors. My eyes snapped to hers. A wide smile was etched on her face. "Where did they come from?". I inquired.

"My body. I'd been wearing them under my uniform".

I shook my head in amusement, a sly smile breaking out of my face.

Immediately, I got to work. Firstly, I cut off the mass of long bushy hair to a shorter length. I should have cut the overgrown beards too but time was running out. The pain in my chest, while I was cutting my hair reminded me of the bullet in my chest.

"The liquor". I growled out.

Dipping her hand into the paper bag, she brought out a little bottle of vodka. I grabbed it from her and continued with my preparations. I washed my hands with some quantity of the liquid and the remaining, I poured on the scissors. Thereafter, clenching my teeth from the pain to come, I stabbed the wound with the scissors to widen it.

My vision was ladened with intense pain, my clenched teeth shaking visibly. Through my hazy vision, I saw the look of horror on her face as she tried her best not to feel the raw pain she saw in my eyes. Pulling out the scissors, I dipped two of my fingers into the expanded bullet hole, moving them in as far as they could go, to reach for the bullet. Red hot pain blinded and engulfed me, my face squeezing from anguish. As soon as my fingers landed on the little metallic object, I pulled it out.

My breathing was ragged, sweat beads dripping from my body that could pass for water from a shower but it was as a result of the pain I was trying my best to wield. As soon as the bullet was out, I threw it to the floor, gulping down the little vodka remaining in the bottle. I needed it to lessen the discomfort.

After a while of regaining my strength and breath, I cleaned the blood from my hands with the dirty white shirt I'd been wearing.

"Are you going to be okay?". Her words came out soft and concerned. In response, I nodded curtly.

Next, I took the cassock and pulled it on, covering my bleeding injury. It was the least of my worries because it would heal in a couple of hours. I wore the boots and the little frames.

Her musical laughter filled the basement as she chuckled.

I must have looked ridiculous in my outfit that was almost too tight and barely reaching my toes with the tiny frames resting on the ridge of my nose like they were struggling to stay together without splitting. "I'm glad my appearance tickles your fantasy".

"Ohh trust me, it does". Her eyes roamed over me briefly before returning to my face. "Ready?"

I replied with a curt nod. In response, she shook her head, smirking.

"Come out then, "

That was when it hit me. I couldn't leave the cell without a key. It was locked.

"Shit". I gritted out, jaw clenching in anger and frustration. Everything was in vain.

But then, the woman surprised me by getting a key from her pocket which she dangled in my eyes while mocking.

"Not so clever".

Stepping towards the cell, she opened the lock with the key. I stepped out of the cell, eyes darkening in preparation for my escape.

The time had come.☐☐☐