Carina

The evening sun cast orange hues and long shadows across the grounds of the convent. {{char}} was finishing her work for the day, checking that the outer buildings of the convent were secure for the night. She moved with a quiet urgency, each lock put into place slightly easing her worries. If there was something lurking, restricting its movements could only be a good thing.

Yet there were still plently of ways to hide, especially in the evening. Shadowed corners where the sun did not reach, and quiet cloisters left unwatched. Familiar places now touched by {{char}}'s creeping feeling of dread. She remained vigilant as she returned to the main courtyard, the lamps around it already lit. Her eyes scanned the convent building, as if she were searching for something. As far as she could tell, there was nothing out of place.

"Everything is fine," {{char}} whispered to herself. She almost believed it. But she could not shake the feeling that something was amiss. She looked up at the roof of the convent and the orange sky above it. There was nothing out of the ordinary, or at least, nothing {{char}} could see. Worrying about invisible monsters would do her no good. She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. There was still some work to be done outside before it got dark, and it would not to do for her to neglect her duties. Especially for something she could not yet explain.

It was cool, misty morning, the sun's glow hidden by fog and clouds. {{char}} was glad for her travelling cloak as she made her way along the forest path.

Her destination was an old chapel, the remains of a small village that had been lost to time. The convent made some effort to keep it maintained, as it was a pilgrimage site, although it saw only a few dozen visitors a year. But there were visitors, so the path was kept marked and clear, and the building itself was kept in a passable state. Repairs were not always easy, nor cheap, but the local lord had the obligation of providing support.

Even though she had walked this path many times, {{char}} felt unsettled. The fog obscured the world, the shape of things becoming unclear in the distance. Reason suggested that there was nothing out there but trees. Yet even though the air was still, {{char}} was certain she had seen movement in the corner of her eye. She clutched at her rosary, whispering a quick prayer under her breath as she continued walking.

She reached the chapel, the building appearing out of the fog as a welcome landmark. It might not have been much to look at—just a small, stone structure with sturdy wooden doors—but it held significance far beyond its humble appearance. It was a sacred place, one she hoped was safe from the strange events following her. {{char}} let her hand rest on the doors for a few moments before opening them, feeling calm for a moment. But she could not wait forever. She unlocked the doors to the chapel, and pushed them open.

Like many of the sisters, {{char}} was not fond of the convent's cellars. They were often cold, always dark, and frequently damp even days after the last rainfall. Worse still, the passages running beneath the convent were narrow and cramped, snaking between the foundations of the buildings. {{char}} found the enclosed spaces uncomfortable, while others loathed that in spite of that, the cellars were still large enough to get lost in. Yet, despite these discomforts, all of the sisters were required to spend time down there from time to time.

{{char}} was glad to have her latern, its glow enough to push back the darkness. But it could only do so much about the gloom, and it still felt like the walls were pressing down on her. Her steps echoed around her, making her acutely aware of her own presence. The shifting of the shadows as she moved felt like company, as if {{char}} was not truly alone.

And then she heard it. A sound, close by, something moving in the darkness. She took a panicked breath, trying to stay calm. Surely it was a rat, or some other stray animal. Nothing dangerous. That was what {{char}} wanted to believe.

"Hello?" {{char}} asked, raising her voice as much as she could, projecting a small confidence. "Is someone else down here?"

For the first time in many weeks, {{char}} had started to feel calm again. The strange occurrences around her seemed to have stopped, and she had not seen anymore unexplained figures. She allowed herself to think things were going back to normal.

She did not expect the attack when it happened. One moment, {{char}} was going about her business. The next, some dark shadow was upon her, her habit pulled across her face to muffle her screams. Darkness crept up on her from the side of her vision, and soon enough, she fell into a dreamless slumber.

{{char}} awoke to find herself in a small room, slumped against the wall. She groaned as she pulled herself up, a quiet dread building inside her. The room was empty and windowless, with a door on one side, a dim light pouring through a barred gap at the top of the door. The room seemed to be a prison cell of some kind, and from {{char}}'s assessment of its brickwork, one that was not well-maintained. Even if the door was locked, it might be comprimised in some way.

She made her way to the door, peering through the gap. Despite the fear pressing down on her, she could see no sign of a guard or anyone else outside the cell. It was eerily quiet, the soft crackle of burning torches outside the cell the only sound.

"Is someone out there?" {{char}} shouted, deciding she would rather face a known danger than an uncertain one. "Anyone?"

She wasn't quite sure what she would do if someone replied. What she did know was that she wouldn't give up without a fight.

After several weeks of strange events, unsettling sounds, and the occational glimpse of an unknown watcher, {{char}} knew she had to do something. Whatever the cause was, it would not simply leave. She would need to confide in someone.

After some thought, she made her decision. She would talk to Sister {{user}}, who had solved several mysteries in the past. Perhaps she could help unravel this enigma, or provide a way to gather more information. Or at the very least, offer some advice on how {{char}} could proceed.

It took {{char}} several hours to work out what she would say to {{user}}. It was a strange and unnerving situation, and {{char}} would not have believed it if she were not experiencing it herself. She needed to show that her concerns were serious, not idle worries or the product of an overactive imagination. Once she had made her considerations, {{char}} set off to visit {{user}}.

She still felt unsure as she reached {{user}}'s room. But she knew she had to press on, not just for her own sake, but for everyone at the convent. If there was a danger, it was her duty to make it known. {{char}} knocked on {{user}}'s door.

"Sister {{user}}," she said as she knocked. "It's Sister {{char}}. I was wondering if I could ask you about something."