The Black Dahlia

“Death is an inevitable force; a lover and a beast. Befriend him. He may be your only savior, for God has no true power, only death and I.” My jaw clenches as I write, the ticking of the clock on the wall grinds into my skull. I bang my head on the padded wall, it doesn’t do much damage but it’s enough to quiet the voices. It wasn’t like this a little over a month ago. I used to be well known, respected. I close my eyes and I’m transported back to there. Before I was caught. Before I was betrayed. Before…

The bell chimes loudly in the halls of my monastery, The House of the Black Dahlia, pulling me from my thoughts. My hand grips the feather quill, ink splattering onto my otherwise blank page. A knock at my door echoes through my office.

“Reverend Father, the nuns are waiting for you to come initiate prayer.”

I lift myself from my chair with a quiet groan. The bright eyed young woman standing in front of my door greets me with a smile. A loyal nun, devoted to the church and the children of the monastery. My chest seems to tighten as the hall lights illuminate her dark hair in a way that reminds me of a magnificent raven. I do my best to withhold myself as she turns and walks to the sanctuary. I stand at the door for a moment, my mind wandering to her.

I mutter beneath my breath, my mind reeling, “Lord, rid her of this putrid, lustful sin.” I take a deep breath to steady my racing heart and enter the sanctuary, the whispered chatter among the nuns cease as soon as I step foot into the chapel.

The dinner processions went on like any other night. Prayers, state what we were grateful for of the day, and eat. Then came time for me to read my reports. Time for punishments to be dealt and pleasantries to be rewarded. After the nuns begin to disperse to either the kitchen or to act out their punishments, I beckon the woman from before to my chambers.

The door shuts behind her with a soft click. She looks up at me with those big doe eyes and I suddenly feel like a predator that’s finally cornered its prey. A wily wolf with a grin that displays his sharp canines, ready to sink into the timid rabbit before him. I hear the wolf howl in hunger before lunging at its prey. His teeth sink into the helpless animal, ravaging the innocent creature. The wolf leaves languidly, satiated, leaving the rabbit reduced to less than nothing.

My bed welcomes me as I lull off to sleep, darkness descending my mind.

I’m running through the forest, my hands feel cold, as if I’d dunked them in warm water and ran through cold air. My heart pounds in my chest as my eyes dart to look through the trees. I feel a strange sense of triumph. I slump against a tree, my shirt scraping along the bark as I sit on the ground. I’m dressed in only my undershirt and trousers leaving little to block out the chill of the night. Sharp yellow eyes flash in the darkness followed by a flash of black fur. A dark wolf slinks out of the shadows, stalking closer. Its tail swayed languidly behind it as its paws treaded silently against the forest floor.

It stopped before reaching me, its muzzle inches from my face, its breath hot against my nose. I can smell the death of a recent meal on its breath. I reach out ever so slightly for the wolf’s fur. Its eyes seem to flash in annoyance as it spins around and darts back into the shadows.

I wake up shivering, my blankets cast aside and my window open. Sleep still clouds my mind as I stand and shut the window against the ruthless winter wind. The sky is still dark, the sun hidden by the unforgiving snow clouds. I check the pocket watch on my desk. 9:35. I slept late. I quickly make my bed and dress in my robes. I take my rosary from where it hangs on my wall and tuck it gently into my pocket before rushing to the chapel.

I pass the young girl from before, she won’t meet my gaze. Even at this angle, she’s gorgeous. I hear Sister Maria call out for the young girl. “Sister Jude, fetch the children for worship.” The girl nods quickly and hurries away.

I preach the sermons of the Lord my father, my voice steady as I speak and pray. My hands move of their own accord, motioning for the verses of the holy word, gesturing at the waywards beyond my monastery doors. The nuns worship and pray at my feet, at the altar of my savior. I raise my hands to the sky and speak to my father aloud.

“Lord, cast away the sins of those that follow me. Those who have accompanied me in this journey to seek salvation, oh Lord. Bath them in the blood of the lamb, wash them clean of their sins and punish those who turn against me, oh Father.”

The church bell chimes and the nun turn to leave, ushering the children back to their classrooms. I stand at the pedestal watching them leave. The door closes with a resounding bang, echoing through the chapel. I turn to look at the virgin Maria, her eyes closed in prayer upon the chapel wall.

“Mother Maria, what am I to do? They have begun to doubt me, they question my authority as Reverend, Mother. Give me the strength to reinstate my title. My leadership. Thank you, Mother.”

I close my office door behind me and as I’m about to sit a knock on the door stops me. I open the door to find Sister Maria. “Reverend Father, there have been whispers of a conspiracy through the congregation. A few of the nuns have been conspiring in the secrecy of night at the dahlia garden.”

A primal rage claws at my chest, my heart hammering wildly in my chest. I force a smile and hold my arms behind me, a picture of serenity.

“Thank you, Sister. I will look into it,” my voice holds my signature calmness. I close the office door behind me as Sister Maria departs. My mask cracks. I sneer, I can feel the vile expression on my face as my hands ball into fists. With a roar of near feral exasperation I shove my desk. Papers flying from the surface, floating down gently around the room as I stand in the center of the chaos, my chest heaving.

I hear footsteps approaching. In response I straighten up, brush off my robes, and push my hair back into its slicked back position. My hand finds my rosary in my pocket, giving it a comforting squeeze. I open the door and step into the hall, closing the wooden door behind me gently. The hall, despite earlier hearing footsteps, is empty. Shadows creep along the walls as I walk, basking in the artistry of the tapestries. I hear a series of muffled sounds from the room at the end of the hall. The door that leads to the cellar.

I feel nothing as I open the door, closing the metal behind me. It closed with a resounding clang, similar to that of a death knell. I stalk silently through the darkness, my hands clasped behind my back and my chin held high. The muffled sounds cease as I approach the bookcase, which I push easily to reveal a smaller door. I open the small door and step inside, locking it behind me. I pull the chain to only light in the room. The flickering bulb illuminates the room just long enough for me to light a lantern, then it goes out. The flame of the lantern illuminates the space as I stalk towards a larger door. Steel. I enter without a word.

A small face meets my gaze, his eyes wide, fear swirling in their depths. I feel a lightness in my chest as I stare down at the young boy. He scoots back, I follow. The boy huddles at the side of a girl. Another boy sits on the ragged ottoman against the other wall.

“Reverend,” his voice is quiet, measured, and knowing. His name is Thomas. He stands from the ottoman, meeting my gaze. He takes a cautious step towards me, his eyes hard and his hands trembling. Contradiction at its finest. It’s either courage or stupidity, I can’t tell which one. I set the lantern on the floor and sit on the ragged ottoman. “Hello, my son.” The boy scowls and walks to his siblings.

The girl, Rosemary, holds the small boy closer. The boy, Timothy, looks up at me, his eyes watering slightly. “Daddy, are you going to hurt sissy today?” My heart races at the tremble in his voice. Not in fear, not in sadness. It races with adrenaline and a glee that both terrifies and arouses me.

I shake my head and pat Timothy on the head. He looks up with me with confused, terror filled eyes. Thomas stands again and gently takes the other two children’s hands, guiding them away from me. I watch in amusement. They can’t get very far in the small room, after all. I take a step back towards the door. Thomas’ voice sounds a bit more sure when he speaks again. “Food.” Not a question. A demand. I shrug with a grin and walk out the way I came.

The garden is always beautiful at this time of day. I run my fingers along the silky petals of the black dahlias around the gazebo as I get down on my knees to pray. I look around. No one is allowed here during my time of prayer and they don’t dare to disobey my rules. If only my children were the same, God bless their sinful, disgusting lives.

“Father, I praise you for your mercy and steadfast love for me. In Christ, you blot out my transgressions and cleanse me from my sins. I pray that my children would know their sins, that they would understand that disobeying me is also disobeying you, oh Father. I pray they will realize their need for forgiveness and come to you. Let them see today’s punishment of fasting as an opportunity to better themselves in your eyes, Father. Amen.”

I stay on my knees for a while, simply enjoying nature. It’s the only thing that soothes my heart and eases the voices in my mind. My hands brush over the soil, the roots on my flowers, the wood of the gazebo, and the blades of fresh cut grass.

I stand, brush the dirt from my robes, and grab my rosary from my pocket. The nuns watch as I pass. I motion for one of them to go pull the bell. “I have an important announcement, it cannot wait. Ring the bell and call an assembly to the chapel.” She nods and rushes off.

I hold my hands up, demanding silence. The hushed whispers slowly disperse before ceasing completely.

“As you all know, we have had a rough few days, but it is all in God’s will! I have spoken to him. He is not pleased with you all on this day. He demands your compliance. He has made me aware of some conspiring happening throughout this beloved monastery. I ask that those conspiring step up and take the punishment dealt immediately to spare his divine wrath. Lest he perform the rapture early and reap your sinful souls!”

A couple sisters gasp loudly, whispering amongst themselves. I point at Sister Jude my hand shaking slightly as I tense it deliberately, portraying a look of fear on my face. “You. Come forward.” She stood slowly, her eyes swirling with a vague terror as she hesitantly made her way to the altar below me.

“Sister Jude, the Lord has informed me that you have spoken atrocities on my name to other sisters. Is this true?”

Sister Jude stood before the altar, trembling. She shook her head vigorously. “No, Reverend Father, I would never do such a thing,” her voice trembles, her eyes wide with fear. I wave my hand dismissively and lean over my pedestal. “Liar. You dare lie in the face of the Lord. Are you claiming that the Lord, our Holy Father, our Savior! Is a liar? Is that what you are insinuating, Sister?”

Gasps ripple through the chapel as Sister Jude stammers and blusters, terrified. I can see the horror and humiliation in her eyes and it sets my blood ablaze in the most delightful way. I narrow my eyes and step down from my pedestal to stand in front of the trembling woman. I take her hand gently in my own, it shakes in my grip as terror and disgust war across her features contorting her beauty. I take a step closer, she takes a step back. I lean close, whispering into her ear. I feel her tense beside me.

“Liars should be punished before everyone, don’t you agree, Sister? To lie in the face of God, that is an action punishable by death, don’t you agree, Jude?”

I hear her gasp quietly and I feel a familiar lustful heat pooling low in my stomach. I take a step back, I see her trembling before me and I fight back a grin. I walk slowly to the altar and grab the sacrificial blade. Sister Jude’s breathing grows heavy as she tries to back away. Sister Maria and Brother Micheal grab her arms forcing her to her knees at the altar in front of the rest of the congregation. I stand behind her and point at the rest of the congregation.

“This is a warning. To defy me is to defy God. An act punishable by execution. Remember that and stay true.”

Sister Maria and Brother Micheal hoist her to her feet and carry her out of the room to my personal chambers. I follow soon after, dismissing them to leave me alone with the nun, tremors racking her body. “You’re a liar. A disgusting, filthy, lustful liar. How dare you tempt me, you ungrateful whore.”

With that, I grab her hair and yank her head back before sliding the blade down her cheek carving a shallow cut into the soft skin. I whisper quietly in her ear. “Did you have fun, my love? Die in glory. May your sins be forgiven in the eyes of the Lord.” I slide the blade across her throat, applying pressure to slice deep into the tissue, staring deeply into those hazel orbs of hers. Blood sprays across the floor, coating the dagger and my hand. “You mean nothing, you are nothing. My secrets die with you.”

I snap my head up as I hear a knock on my door. Sister Maria pokes her head in and looks at the blood pooling across the floor. She takes a step inside and places her hand on my shoulder. “Reverend Father, the Lord would be proud. Let me help you. I can dispose of this…unfortunate woman while you tend to other matters.” I stand frozen for a moment or two, long enough for Sister Maria to lay her head on my shoulder. “Don’t worry, Reverend Izaac. I will tend to this. Why don’t you disrobe and let me handle the reports tonight at supper. Relax, I have everything under control.” The use of my given name softens something deep inside me, surprising me. I don’t like surprises. I nod slowly much like a child being told they can do something without consequences.

I take the opportunity to walk to the bathing chambers attached to my room and run a hot bath.

I go about disrobing, my mind no longer swirls with thoughts. Instead I feel calm, steady, almost joyous. I lower myself slowly into the water, the warmth enveloping my body in a gentle embrace. I take a deep breath, allowing myself to relax as I bathe.

Midnight. The hour of witches, silence, sin, and thinking. I walk silently to the cellar door. I open the final door to the small room holding my children. They sleep quietly in the corner. Timothy is asleep beside Rosemary and Thomas is propped up against the wall. He stands and walks over to me. I hand him a plate of bread and lentils. “I don’t plan on returning for a good time.” Thomas scowls.

“Father, six pieces of bread and a couple spoonfuls of lentils won’t last more than a day.”

“Make it last.”

Thomas takes the plate and sets it on the floor. “May I come with you tonight? You’re going to the chapel, yes?” I keep my face neutral as I silently turn to leave. I stop in front of the door, my hand resting on the handle. “No. You are not to leave this room…ever.” I open the door and walk out, shutting and locking the door behind me.

I walk out of the monastery in a common robe. Beyond the gates. Into the town. I walk quietly, the robe draped around my shoulders and my hood drawn up. No one walks the streets at night except for the occasional beggar or nightwalker. A woman approaches me, a small woman dressed in an open robe, revealing her undergarments to the bare eye. I scowl at the disgusting display of whorishness.

She brushes my arm with sensual eyes. “Sir, you look so lonely. Would you care to take me home for a night?”

I plaster on a cunning smirk and take her hand. “I would like nothing more, my dear.”

The bell chimes through the monastery around noon. Sister Maria clicks her tongue as I sit in my office. “Another harlot was found dead. Serves her right.” She sets the newspaper on my desk and sits on the edge of the mahogany. I nod, not looking up. I continue writing, finishing a paper with my signature. “Sister Maria, do me a favor and go retrieve Sister Agatha. Tell her it is her job to now tend to the children.”

Sister Maria nods and leaves to do as I asked of her. A knock caught my attention and Brother Micheal entered the room without confirmation. “Father-”

“I did not say you could enter.”

“Father.”

“This is a disgrace upon yourself. Get out before I-”

“Izacc! The police wish to speak with you.”

I look up at the monk. I stand from my desk and walk over to stand in front of him. Brother Micheal meets my gaze with one that matches my own, steady and irritated. “Watch your tone, Micheal.”

The officers stand at the Monastery gates as we speak. The smaller one hands me a document, his voice quiet. “Reverend Father…deepest apologies but we have…considerable evidence…of foul play within the Monastery. We are required to take you into custody.” My eyes harden and I look behind me to find Brother Micheal standing at the Monastery doors. I nod curtly. “Let me inform the Sisters of my absence.” The officers nod and allow me to go.

My chest heaves as I stand in the middle of pure unadulterated carnage. Death surrounds me, women and children alike, my own three hellspawn among them, lay broken and bloody at my feet. I approach Brother Micheal. “You.”

Micheal stands still, staring at the blade in my hand. “Izacc. Think for a moment.”

“You turned on me. This is your fault. We had an amazing thing! We were Gods!”

“No! You were a tyrant! You killed and lied just to get what you want. So yes, brother. I turned you in. I refuse to live with a tyrant any longer. Mother and father would be disappointed.”

I glare at him harshly before shoving him against the wall pressing the blade to his throat. “Don’t speak of them, Micheal.”

“Accept responsibility, Izacc."

“Never.”

I press the blade harshly against his throat, the sharp edge digs deep, blood gushes around it. “I. Am. God.”

Shouting fills the chapel as officers file in, most likely alerted by the ruckus my brother had caused. One vomits at the sight of the chapel, another goes rigid as if he’ll faint, another looks as if he’d just stared death in the eye. For he has. Death is I. I am death. Something hard hits the back of my head and my vision blurs. I stumble forward a bit before collapsing to the ground, unconsciousness pulling me under quicker than I’d like.

I awake in a solitary cell. They must have dragged me here. None other than Sister Maria sits in the corner along with a security guard. Her voice is soft like a spring rain but holds power much like a lioness. “Izacc Reynolds. Welcome to your new home.” She played me. She played me all along.