45. Celine
Celine
As soon as we take our seats in the back pew, I hear a soft commotion around us. I look to my left, past where Alex is sitting, and I see that the other priests have spread out. Alex glances at me in confusion and then peers around the room.
There are three priests along the left wall, three more along the right, and two standing by the entrance we just came in. All of them are unfamiliar, and every single one of them seems to be standing guard.
I move my head to the front of the room, where Father Keaton is now flipping through the Bible, and Sister Alice stands off to the side of him as she mutters something in his ear. Seeing her standing up there, it dawns on me that she is the only nun here.
A sudden feeling of dread sinks in my stomach as Father Keaton begins to speak, and Sister Alice slips through a door to the left of the stage.
“For those of you who have a strong relationship with God, you will show your commitment to Him today. For the others—”
I don’t miss the way his eyes slide to mine. I divert my gaze, landing on Joanna, who sits eagerly in the front pew, but not with Bekah. The latter is in the row behind her, only a few spaces down, with an expression that mirrors Joanna’s.
“This will be your entrance into the community of believers. To grow your relationship with God.”
Esther leans over and whispers, “You were right, we should have skipped.”
Without looking at her, I ask, “Didn’t you say you hoped we had one of these rooms so they could put you out of your misery?”
She lightly sighs. “True, but now I have you, and it would be rude of me to leave you like that.”
I link my arm with hers and grin. She and Alex have made this place tolerable. Without them occupying my time, I would have gone insane.
“As you are submerged in the holy water, you will be cleansed of your sins, and when you resurface, you will be reborn in the eyes of God.”
I drown him out, peering over my shoulder at the two priests standing by the door. They don’t take their eyes off Father Keaton, and when I look to the other men, I notice that none of them do either. They stand there like robots, void of emotion, and it sends warning signals to my brain.
“Alex,” I whisper. “I don’t have a good feeling about this.”
“It will be fine.” His hand meets my thigh, glancing at me with reassurance. “The sooner this is over, the sooner we can figure out a plan to get out of here.”
I nod, not feeling any better by his words. My eyes return to the stage, where Father Keaton has finished his speech and stepped away from the podium.
“Joanna, will you come up here?”
The blonde stands from her seat, all smiles as she approaches the stage.
There isn’t a hint of anger on her face as she stares up at Father Keaton, which makes this fearful sensation inside of me grow.
He must have talked with her after everything went down with the police, and she was dumb enough to forgive him.
He takes her hand, guiding her down the three steps into the pool, both of them waist-deep in the water.
Father Keaton faces us, while Joanna stands sideways before him. He places a hand on her lower back and over her heart. “I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”
He presses a soft kiss to her forehead and then lowers her into the water. Seconds pass as she is submerged, but he doesn’t bring her back up. It isn’t until I see her body through the glass begin to twitch that I internally panic.
Joanna’s hands wave frantically under water, grabbing at Father Keaton’s wrist. She taps on his hand, gesturing for him to let her up, but he doesn’t. He continues to hold her underwater until her body goes still.
“Did he just—” Esther says the three words in horror, but doesn’t finish her sentence.
She doesn’t have to because I know what she was going to ask.
Two men emerge from behind the stage, walking to the pool as Father Keaton brings Joanna’s lifeless body out of the water. The two priests help take her out and carry her through a door to the left of the podium.
“He’s going to kill us all,” I whisper in fear.
Standing in the water, Father Keaton looks out at all of us women who are staring at him in disbelief. With his arms raised in question, he asks, “Who’s next?”
All hell breaks loose.
Women are fleeing their spots in the pews, racing for the door, but the priests stop them. Alex, Esther, and I stay in our seats, watching the mayhem unfold. I’m frozen, unable to comprehend what’s happening around us.
“Alex?” His name is the only thing that falls from my lips. I turn my head towards him, my eyebrows lifting and my eyes widening.
His face is ashen. “We need to get you out of here.”
Just as we stand up, more men come out from behind the stage, and when Father Keaton points to Bekah, two of them go to grab her. She is looking around in panic, unsure of what to do, searching for someone, anyone, to save her.
“We need to help her,” I tell Alex, trying to push past him to get to her.
He grabs my arm, yanking me back. “You are not going up there.”
“Alex,” I say sternly. “We need to save her. We can’t just let her d—”
“My main priority right now is getting you out of here, Celine.”
With his fingers digging into my wrist, he walks me to the double doors. I stumble as I glance over my shoulder just in time to witness Bekah being shoved under the water.
“No!” I scream, trying to get out of Alex’s grasp so I can go to her, but Esther moves and stands in front of me, taking my other hand in hers.
Her head begins to shake slowly, and I watch as a tear rolls down her face. Confusion fills my body when I see something I have never seen from Esther before—true fear.
I look up as the two of them continue to guide me toward the door. My eyes scan the room, and I am shocked at what I see. Women running in every direction as they try to find a way to escape this madness and the priests who are chasing after them.
Their piercing screams pleading to be let out as a few women are snatched up. Some women hide between the pews, while others climb over them, knocking over the benches as they try to get away from the strange men.
Splatters of blood spread across the walls and floors as priests slam the women against them; their noses breaking against the hard surface as the men use this horrific attempt to catch them.
Everything has escalated in just a few seconds.
Holding back tears and rage, my chin begins to quiver at the realization that this is real life.
Father Keaton is drowning women.
He’s lost his fucking mind.
Our movements pause, and Alex must feel my body tense because he whips me around, placing me in front of him. We are now standing at the main doors of this room, with the two priests blocking them, staring at us with amusement in their eyes.
“You need to let us out,” Alex demands.
“No can do,” the man on the right says.
“I’m a priest in this church, so I think that means I have more authority than you do.”
“Sorry. That’s not how it works,” the other priest says.
Frustration and fear rip through his chest as he lets out a grunt. Turning us around, he rushes us over to another door on the left, but the priests that stand before it shake their heads, silently warning that there’s no point in trying to get past them.
I look up at Alex to question what we should do, but he is already scanning the room, his head turning back and forth in a rapid motion, until his eyes finally lock in on one place.
“The stage.” He turns us to face it, and I wish he didn’t.
My eyes fall to where Father Keaton stands inside the pool.
He wears a disturbing expression that makes my body turn cold.
I follow his eyes to find that it is directed towards the two men who are carelessly dragging Bekah’s lifeless body out of the water.
Father Keaton is ruthless, and the look on his face as he watches them get rid of her body.
There is no remorse—only pleasure.
He then turns to the crowd and points to a woman at random. It only takes a few seconds before the men can fully grab her, and no matter how much she fights, they win.
Alex quickly ushers Esther and me to squat between the last two standing pews to stay out of Father Keaton’s sight.
“There is an exit behind the stage. It’s the best way out,” Alex suggests.
“How would we be able to get past Father Keaton? He’s standing right there,” Esther asks.
“We just need to be careful and not catch anyone’s attention,” Alex explains.
He looks over the pew at the stage, his face twisting in anguish at the sight of yet another woman being killed. The screaming in the background grows more frantic, and a terrifying screech echoes through the room, making me flinch.
Alex notices my discomfort as soon as he brings his attention back to us. He squeezes my hand, pulling me closer to his side, and gently rubs my back to calm me. His eyes meet mine to reassure me that everything will be alright.
I take a deep breath and turn back toward Esther, who’s biting her lip, clearly in deep thought. “There are too many of them.”
“We need to split up.” I blurt out.
“No, Celine. Not happening. I’m not leaving your side. We need to be smart about this.” He is trying to remain calm, but I can hear his voice shake as he attempts to take charge.
Esther pops her head up over the pew, surveying the room. “No, she’s right. Someone needs to distract them while the others escape,” she says confidently. “The stage is the only option. But we are outnumbered; someone needs to distract them while the others escape.”
“Yes, exactly! That’s a good plan.” I nod in agreement, my head slowing as I see the determination on Esther’s face. At her expression, I begin to realize what she is implying, and when it finally hits me, I shake my head in concern and say, “Wait—”
“I’ll distract them,” Esther interrupts me, saying the exact thing I feared was going to come out of her mouth.
My eyes go wide, and Alex’s head shakes in refusal.