Page 13 of Where the Dark Knelt (Worshipped by Darkness #1)

“But…” I frowned, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes though none fell.

“You know,” she continued softly, “depression is a complicated thing. I’m not a doctor, so I can’t say anything wise from a medical perspective.

But… we once had a boy here, and he was treated with exorcisms. Many people believe that demons enslave humans, that they suck out their energy and life… do you understand what I’m saying?”

I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. “Demons enslaving people…?”

She nodded solemnly. “Of course. I believe with all my heart that all evil comes from them. Because God… He wouldn’t create such hell for people on His own.

I just can’t believe that out of His good will He would allow souls to suffer without reason.

No… these are damned demons. They harm us.

They feed on our suffering… and you… maybe you, too, have been fed on by one of them all these years.

There is a class of them called Morbura…

demons who feed on human depression, draining all energy and joy from their victims. That’s why people feel so weak, so tired…

as if they’re being slowly devoured alive. ”

“Hm… Morbura…” I whispered, the name echoing in my head with dark beauty despite its horror.

My body felt heavy, fatigue washing over me in deep waves.

I felt the truth like a shadow inside my bones, this tiredness had been with me since I was eleven.

It never left. And the worst part was… No matter how many doctors I had visited, how many blood tests they ran, how many psychologists I cried to, they always shook their heads gently and said, “Maybe you’re just tired from school… or work… or your singing classes.”

But no one ever thought… that I was tired because something else was feeding on me.

“Beautiful or not… they’re dangerous,” she said softly.

“You know, depression… it’s now the most common disease on our planet.

And it kills people quite effectively… silently, invisibly.

And if… well, if all these shadows, these feelings…

if they truly are demons… then their expulsion…

that’s something for witches and those who practice demon-exorcism rituals.

If you ever want to try that path, I know a friend.

She sometimes visits temples, monasteries, and churches upon request… if you want, I can write to her.”

She paused, her gaze distant, fog swirling around us like a veil between worlds.

“But still… I sometimes think depression is a disaster of modern life. People have burdened themselves too heavily. They’ve gone into work, into mere survival… not into life itself. So many have lost themselves in endless office hours, in corporate cages… just like you, my little lambkin.”

She reached out and cupped my chin gently, and at her tender “my little lambkin,” something deep inside me broke. A tear slipped down my cheek before I could stop it. She brushed it away with her thumb, her touch warm, motherly, almost holy.

“Don’t cry, lambkin… everything is still ahead of you.

You will be healed here, with divine help.

And then… maybe you’ll become a nun among us, a full servant of the Lord.

Or…” She smiled softly, wistful. “Or maybe you’ll fly away from our warm sisterly nest back into the world…

but this time able to stand firmly on your own two feet.

To stand up tall, like a tin soldier in the storm of war. ”

“I… I don’t know the future…” My voice trembled, brittle as thin glass.

“No one knows it, lambkin,” she said, her thumb still stroking my chin.

“But I’m sure you’ll get better eventually…

just give it time. Let the light enter your soul…

and enslave it, fill it completely. This monastery…

it’s a haven for lost souls. Everyone finds their own cure here… you will too. You’ll see.”

She tilted my face upward, lifting my gaze from the damp mossy path beneath my feet.

I hadn’t even realized I was staring down, my shoulders hunched, my entire body curled inwards with silent sobs.

Now the tears were streaming freely, unstoppable, her words having pierced some hidden place within me that had long been sealed in ice.

“Let’s go have breakfast, lambkin,” she whispered, beaming at me with that radiant, sunlit smile that seemed to break the lingering dawn fog apart.

And so we turned back toward the monastery. The sun had already risen fully, golden rays burning away the morning mist from the orchard and cloisters.

And just for a moment… it felt like a small piece of fog in my own mind had begun to lift as well.

Chapter Seven

Eveline

The sun had long since disappeared below the horizon, leaving only darkness and silence outside. Tonight, the full moon hung low in the sky, huge and red like a bloodstain smeared across black velvet. Something about its glow made the air feel heavy with dread.

I heard a soft, pitiful whining at my door. Startled, I whispered, “What happened?”

The door creaked open, and Astra stepped in, clutching her pillow to her chest like a scared child. Her eyes were swollen and tear-stained.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, voice shaking. “I’m having… panic attacks again, I don’t know why. And this reddish hue of the moon tonight… it’s terrifying. I don’t feel safe sleeping alone. Is it… okay if I sleep with you?”

A small smile tugged at my lips despite her fear. “Oh, just like in the good old days… back in teen camps when my friends would sneak into my bunk to sleep next to me. Of course, come on in. Make yourself comfortable.”

She didn’t hesitate, flopping down on my bed with her pillow, sprawling across it completely. I raised an eyebrow. Sleeping here together would be… challenging, unless we lay down like a jack card or… on top of each other, which would be awkward… and unbearably hot.

“Ahem… What are you staring at?” Astra shifted, noticing my expression.

She moved over quickly, sitting up against the wall where my pillow usually rested, creating space for me.

I sat down beside her, sliding my own pillow behind my back to keep the cold wall from seeping into my skin.

For a moment, we simply sat there, knees almost touching, staring at each other in silence lit only by the sinister crimson moonlight streaming through the curtains.

“Did something specific happen?” I finally asked.

She shook her head, curls swaying, her eyes distant and dark.

“No… it just happens to me sometimes. On some subconscious… physical level. I’ve already prayed, I’ve drunk water, I’ve done my breathing exercises, but nothing helps…

” Her voice broke as she tucked her chin onto her knees, curling tighter into herself. “I’m sorry if I woke you up, honey.”

“It’s okay,” I said softly, leaning closer to her warmth. “You’re still a sweetheart.”

“Am I?” she snorted lightly, though her eyes remained shadowed, haunted. She hugged her knees tighter, pressing her forehead against them, her hair falling like a curtain around her pale, trembling face.

“Well… will you tell me what happened on the cliff, or…?”

“Yes, in general… it’s not that important, you know…” She sighed deeply, her eyes turning glassy with unshed tears. “You know my story… it’s just that sometimes I think about children and… my soul shrinks into such a tiny atom that it becomes hard to breathe…”

“I’m really sorry, honey… really…” I reached out, brushing her wrist lightly. “But… sometimes children aren’t the most important thing in life, you know?”

“Not the main thing… but I wanted them so much…” Her voice cracked on the last word, and she hugged her pillow tighter.

“You know… you can still foster a child someday… give them a chance at a new life.” I felt so helpless saying it. The topic was so raw and sensitive, and I didn’t know how to choose the right words without sounding patronizing or ignorant.

“That’s good, but… I think children should grow up in a full family. Not just with a single foster mother. And I… I don’t believe after all the shit I’ve been through with my husband that good men even exist anymore. I can’t believe they wouldn’t cheat… you know?”

“I understand you perfectly…” I whispered. “Even though I had a girlfriend… this is my main fear in relationships too… being cheated on. And if I ever found out… I think I would probably… kill them.”

“God be with you, Eveline!” She blinked in shock. “What horrors are you talking about?!”

“Yes, yes, it’s figurative…” I made a quick stop gesture with my hands, eyebrows raised in alarm. “Figuratively, I mean… I wouldn’t have the guts to actually kill someone.”

“Yeah… probably…” She let out a shaky laugh. “Although I… I thought about killing him too when I found out. God forgive me for thinking such things about my ex-husband…”

“You know… he didn’t deserve you.”

“He didn’t.” She shook her head, a sad smile trembling on her lips. “But the funny thing is… he has a wife and kids now. And me?” Her eyes grew distant. “And I have… I have nothing. Nothing but this life in a monastery.”

“For some, life in a monastery is everything…”

“Yeah… I hope that over time I’ll accept and understand that.” Her voice softened into a whisper. “I know this path is just for me… but sometimes… it’s so hard. So unbearably hard and lonely…”

“You’re not alone…” I said gently, leaning in to rest my forehead against her shoulder. “You have us. Your sisters.”

She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around me.

I hugged her back, inhaling her delicate scent of chamomile soap.

My eyes fluttered closed, a small smile curling on my lips as I stroked her back.

Her cotton nightdress smelled so soothing, so purely her, that it made me want to just drift off right there.

Maybe I was too obsessed with people’s scents, but it had always mattered to me…

the smell of safety, of softness, of someone real.