Author' note: Unbelievable, but true: I have written a new chapter. Took me only one and a half year. ;-) Well, but at least you know now that I'm not dead and - even more - still writing. So R&R. Greetz, AmandaK.
St. Vincent's Convent of the Merciful Sisters, 1968
With closed eyes and folded hands Sister Mary Helena kneed on the floor and prayed. The abbess, Sister Mary Elisabeth, had left her half an hour ago to attend the daily vesper evensong. Mary Helena had not participated, although she knew that it was a violation of her cloistral duty, but she hadn't had the strength to go to the chapel. So instead she had stayed in the empty refectory, praying all the time for the fortitude to complete her confession. But with every word, every sentence, she felt weaker and weaker, as if the couching of her memories was poisoning her body and her soul. However, she had to tell, even if it meant that she would die.
Waiting for the return of the abbess she continued her prayer: "The Lord is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer; my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge, my shield and the horn of my salvation. He is my stronghold, my refuge and my saviour- from violent men you save me. I call to the Lord, who is worthy of praise, and I am saved from my enemies."
She was still in the middle of the psalm when Sister Mary Elisabeth entered the refectory. As the abbess beheld the small figure of Mary Helena she sighed in worry. In god's name, this awful confession was clearly killing Mary Helena. But she knew that nothing would keep the nun from going on. All she could do was listening. Listen and pray.
Mary Helena was still praying silently. Mary Elisabeth stepped beside her and touched her shoulder.
"Mary Helena? Are you alright?"
Mary Helena opened her eyes and nodded: "I'm fine."
With the help of Mary Elisabeth she managed to stand up and sat on a nearby chair.
"Are you sure you want to go on with this?" the abbess asked. Mary Helena nodded again: "I am. I… I'm sure it's God's will. Why else should the Lord restore all these memories, if not for telling them?"
Mary Elisabeth sighed: "Your faith is admirable, my child. Just say when it's too much for you so we can take a break."
"I will, holy mother", agreed Sister Mary Helena, but it sounded not very convincing. Her dark eyes stared into space, and several minutes passed in silence while she was trying to find the right words to continue with the story of her dreadful memories. When she finally focused back on Sister Mary Elisabeth it was with so much pain in her look that it made the abbess cringe. A single teardrop ran down her hollow cheek as she asked:
"Do you believe that trust can be a sin, too?"
Tower Ward, 1941
The night was bitterly cold. The few dirty ceiling lights, which were permanently lit even during the night, turned the hall into a creepy, shadowy place. Laying on the rough floor with only her thin, tattered dress to warm her Amanda was chilled to the bone. That and the constant pain in her body from the recurring rapes prevented that she found some sleep. Shivering constantly she heard footsteps behind her and closed her eyes in fear. Probably it was one of moose's gang members, and even more probably he wanted to rape her again. But instead of the brute force that she expected she suddenly felt the soft touch of a woolen blanket placed over her freezing body. Raising her head in surprise she noticed Mercy, who knelt next to her with a mysterious smile on his face.
"Take it, it will help against the cold." he said. Unsure what to do Amanda gazed at him, searching for a sign that that there was a catch in his offer. But he seemed really sincere, and so she wrapped the blanket around herself.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome." Mercy replied politely. Once again his behavior confused Amanda completely. The whole day he had treated her quite inconsistently. One moment he was pure evil, taunting her cruelly and enjoying her pain while raping her brutally, the other moment he was friendly and courteous, protecting her against too much violence from other men and even helping her with a certain human need. Every time she thought she knew him he astonished her with some new and unexpected behavior. Like giving her a blanket in the middle of the night when she was almost freezing to death.
The new blanket gave her at least some comforting warmth, yet she couldn't sleep. Too much pain, too much fear and too much terror made it impossible for her to relax enough to find some rest.
Mercy, who watched her closely, noticed that she was still staring with open eyes into the air.
"Still not sleeping, huh? Want some company?" he asked after a while. Hesitating only for a short moment Amanda finally sat up and nodded: "Yes, please."
Mercy smiled and approached her a little bit more, so that he was sitting right beside her.
"I know, it's not really a classy hotel here, but you get used to it after a while."
Amanda looked around at the miserable filthy surrounding and wondered how long someone had to be in this horrid place to get ever used to it.
"How… how long have you been here?" she asked eventually.
"Which year do we have?" Mercy asked back. At first Amanda thought he was joking, but then she realized that he really didn't know the date and said: "1941, December 1941."
"1941." repeated Mercy thoughtfully, and then after a short moment, he added: "Eight and a half years."
Now it was Amanda who repeated rather shocked: "Eight and a half years! So long!"
Mercy, however, shrugged his shoulders and said: "Well, at least I'm alive. In jail I would have been sentenced to death already."
Amanda had to admit that he had a point, but more than eight years still sounded like an awful long time in a place like this.
"Is there any chance that they'll release you some day?"
Mercy chuckled softly. "Would you really release someone like me?"
"Well, of course. I believe in the good in people. So if you're truly sorry for your crimes and promise to stay righteous, devotional and respectable, then I would release you after a certain amount of time."
She had not yet finished, though, when Mercy burst into a loud laughter.
"You'd seriously set me free? Oh, how lovely you are, my dear. Lovely, but also incredibly naïve and stupid!"
His laughter had turned into a sneer, and the piercing look of his icy blue eyes made Amanda blush in embarrassment.
"You have no idea what I have done! I killed thirteen women, the youngest hardly older than fourteen. I used to mutilate them, pulled out their finger nails, broke their legs and arms, cut off their tits, stabbed a knife into their cunts and flogged them until their skin was nothing more than raw bloody flesh. And while they were screaming in pain I fucked them again and again. Sooner or later they were all crying for mercy, begging me to end their miserable life. That was when the real fun began! Sometimes I tortured them like this for days before I finally killed them, and I enjoyed every single moment of it. So, if I had the chance to, if you'd release me like you said, I would do it again without hesitation."
Amanda turned pale as Mercy described his horrific crimes in such detail. Although she had already known that he was a rapist and murderer she was shocked by the enormity of his cruelty and viciousness.
"But... why?" she asked appalled.
"Why? Because that's what I am." Mercy replied. When Amanda remained silent he added: "Let me tell you a little story. My father was a successful company owner. He had a stable with some very valuable stallions. When I was a boy, about ten or eleven years old, I set the stable on fire, just to hear the horses scream in fear and pain. After that my father sent me to a catholic boarding school. But even the priests couldn't change what I was and how I felt. Some years later, when I was in college, I raped a woman for the first time. And after I graduated law school I killed my first victim. So if you ask me why I kill, it's just the way I've always been and always will be."
Confused Amanda didn't know what to say. Her first thought was that he was wrong. No one was a natural born killer. It contradicted everything she believed in, namely that there was something good in every man. Then, another point attracted her attention.
"Law school? You... you were a lawyer?!"
"Yes, I was a lawyer. A quite successful one in fact." Mercy said with noticeable proud.
When Amanda still met him with disbelief he called: "Oh c'mon. Not everyone here is an uneducated moron. Some time ago we even had a doctor. Yes, he killed several of his patients and fucked their corpses, but he was a real doctor. A very literate man, besides. We used to have some very decent conversations. At least before he started to tick me off so much that I had to kill him."
"Oh. That's…uh…" Amanda began, but became silent then. She'd wanted to express her sorrow, but she feared that Mercy would mock her again. Even so he seemed to sense what she had been about to say, for he raised an eye brow and grinned sardonically.
Although their conversation had been rather short it had tired Amanda. She yawned twice and pulled the blanket closer. Mercy saw it and patted her shoulder gently.
"Try to get some sleep. Soon enough it's morning and they'll line up to fuck you once again." He said and stood up. Although his words were not comforting at all Amanda nodded and lay down on the floor.
Mercy was already a few steps gone, but he turned around when Amanda called him.
"Mercy? Thanks." She said with a shy smile. Smiling back briefly he looked down on her for a moment, then he turned back and left without a word.
