Nuns and Werewolves: A Modern Day Tale of Witchcraft and Deception

Contents

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 26

About the Author

PROLOGUE

Keeping her cat clutched tightly in her arms, the young girl tried to keep her wits about her as she squeezed her small frame underneath the stairs. She needed to clear her mind; to concentrate! She cried out with pain and fear as the nails of the big hand grated across her bare leg. She kicked hard at her assailant and pushed herself even further underneath the stairs.

The huge woman was grabbing hysterically at her and screaming profanities. Nothing the girl did seemed to dissuade the maniacal attack. The powerful arm, which was the only part of the woman’s anatomy that could fit into the cubbyhole, was grasping and clawing at everything within its reach.

She’s under here! the woman yelled. Midge, get over here and get this little bitch out of here.

The large body moved away from the small door, revealing to the terrified child, the chaos, which was going on outside of her refuge. Screams came from somewhere nearby, followed by a dull thud as the girl saw Miss Marie’s head hit the parquet floor just in front of her. Blood burst from Miss Marie’s head and spattered over the girl’s legs, increasing her sense of terror; making it even more difficult for her to concentrate on her defense tactics.

In an instant, Miss Marie was gone and a wiry little woman was under the stairs with the girl. The woman’s face barely averted the girl’s pounding heels as she grabbed hold of one of the small legs and began dragging the child out from underneath the stairs.

The girl’s cat broke away from her grasp and streaked past the woman. Splinters of wood punctured the struggling child’s hands as she pushed them against the floor, trying to resist being ousted from her hiding place.

Outside the cubby-hole, the big woman, with hair the color of the flames now spreading through the old isolated Victorian mansion, held a blood covered axe in her hands. She was shouting orders to her five cohorts who had stormed the house with her in an effort to get rid of what she referred to as, Fucking low-life parasites.

As the newly set fire continued to burn, the woman’s shrieking commands could be heard above the screams of the other women and the crackling of the timber in the walls. Flames were jumping from the drapes to the ceiling. The ornate furnishings were beginning to scorch from the heat of the increasing blaze.

Fucking two-bit gypsy whores! Get every last one of them. Verna! Take Pat and Mildred upstairs with you and make sure those others are finished with. None of them are leaving this house. They made a big mistake trying to cut in on my territory.

Here she is! We’ve got her. The wiry little woman and one of the others were holding the innocent looking ten-year-old. The girl struggled to free herself, but she was powerless against the two grown women. They dragged her towards the red haired woman.

Well, looks like you’re the last one honey, said the woman. Thought you could work your spells on me did you? We know how to deal with your kind. She pointed to a struggling magpie hanging in the open doorway of the house. The bird was bound with braids made from the fibers of the belladonna plant; some wrapped around its beak and others binding its wings to its body.

What are we going to do with her? asked one of the women.

Use your knives. Cut her throat! ordered the big woman. Her eyes were wild and saliva was beginning to drool from her mouth.

The two other women hesitated. They were holding the girl by her arms, one on each side. The girl searched the women’s faces for some sign of compassion. Please! Please don’t hurt me. I didn’t do anything. Please! The women looked at one another with uncertainty.

Turning back to the big woman, the girl looked past her. She saw her cat as it leaped into the air unnoticed by anyone else. The cat seized the bird, pulling it from the doorway and the girl realized that the hex, which the women had put on the house, preventing anyone from using their mental powers, was broken.

Growing impatient with the other two women’s hesitancy, the big woman said, Hell, I’ll do it myself. She raised the axe. We wouldn’t want any witnesses, would we now?

The axe remained in the air above the woman’s head. Her eyes filled with the look of confusion. Her glance darted from the girl to one of the women then to the other woman. With a look of horror on her face, she brought the axe down in a surge of power, splitting the skull of the wiry little woman.

Oh my God! screamed the second woman, as she raised her arms in front of her to deflect the plunging instrument of her death. Her efforts to divert the axe were futile. The power behind the big woman’s drive was overwhelming.

The bodies of the two women lay on the floor as the young girl slowly stepped back, putting distance between herself and the madwoman. With the hex broken, there was nothing to prevent the girl from using her powers. Her focus was intense and her concentration had become extremely acute. She continued to exert her will upon the weak mind of her potential murderer and she was absolutely steadfast with her concentration.

The woman glared at the girl with hate and anger. She lifted the axe above her head again. The girl held her ground and the axe stayed above the woman’s head as if in a tug-of-war. The anger in the eyes of the woman turned to realization and then to terror as she raised her head to look at the axe in her hands.

The axe was moving against the woman’s will. She now had no control over it. It turned slowly until the sharp edge was facing her. The handle moved down through her grip, placing the head of the axe just above her blood covered hands. Her struggle to regain control of her motor skills was intense, but useless. Her arms stretched out in front of her and she began to cry as she fixed her stare upon the murder weapon now facing her. Her arms began to shake violently and she screamed just before the axe crashed into her face.

The child stood motionless, looking at the carnage before her. The next moment she began to convulse and her breathing became sporadic. She was gasping for breath as the tears welled up and flushed from her eyes. She cried hysterically for a brief time, and then stiffened her body and dropped her hands to her sides. She stepped back from what had been her position of defiance. Her shoes made a sloshing sound when she lifted them out of the puddle of blood spreading across the floor. She quickly made her way to the entrance of the house, and then stepped through the doorway and onto the front porch.

A loud cry from inside the house made the girl turn to see the three women who had earlier gone upstairs. They were halfway down the staircase. They had spotted their slain companions and were now looking at the girl. Get her! one woman screamed.

With one sweeping movement of her hand, the child sent flames spreading from one wall across the entire room and up the staircase, trapping the three women. She stood for a moment, watching the fire engulf the women. As the screams diminished, an expression not unlike a smile came across the pretty little face. The girl wiped the tears from her cheeks, pulled the large oak door closed, turned, and ran into the night.

CHAPTER 1

The scent of night blooming jasmine lilted through the convent garden as Sister Helena sat on the bench contemplating her life. It was past midnight; she should be asleep, but she knew that if she went to bed she would just lie awake and stare at the cross on the wall and try to feel contentment, which she had not felt for some time now. She wished she could be a pious, humble nun, but more and more she had been feeling restless and unsatisfied…and bored. She was ashamed to admit it to herself, but she could no longer deny it; the church was not fulfilling to her.

The convent was a beautiful place to live. Within these walls was abounding peace and tranquility, and just outside the walls the central California coastal area was awe inspiring, but all this peace and tranquility was driving her to despair. She could not help but feel that there was something more for her. What that something was, was the puzzle. She sought inspiration as she looked into the clear night sky, dotted with thousands of stars and a magnificent full moon, but the beauty of the heavens merely left her longing for something more.

How could she not be satisfied here? The loveliness of the garden, the kinship with the other sisters, the quiet; but she had failed to attain a sense of serenity and peace. She felt restless and discontented. So she sat, thinking, wondering what to do. Should she leave the convent? But what would become of her? Where would she go?

The sister started at the gentle clanking of the bell, which hung next to the gate outside the ten-foot high wall surrounding the convent. Very seldom in her three years here, had she ever witnessed the arrival of a visitor. There were, of course, the regular delivery people, but they always came during business hours, not in the middle of the night. The Monsignor often visited, but he had a key to the gate and there was no way he would be here at this hour.

Perhaps she had only imagined the sound. She turned to see if any lights had come on inside the buildings. All the windows were still dark. If the bell had actually rung, she was apparently the only one who had heard it.

There it was again; it was the bell. Was this Satan, come to collect her soul for being wanton? The Mother Superior had warned her that this might happen. She knew that devils roamed the nights outside these walls. Still, she was curious. She rose from her bench and walked toward the gate. The full moon laid a soft light upon everything around her, making the decorative iron of the gate appear luminescent. She stopped some distance from the gate and waited. The night was quiet. The far off sounds of the surf were barely audible. Wait…was that the sea? No…no, not the sea; that was the sound of someone sobbing.

Who’s there? she said in a loud whisper.

The sobbing ceased immediately.

Who is it?

The only sounds the sister now heard were the familiar howling of the wolves in the distance and the noise of the crickets close by as they stirred in the night. She slowly approached the gate. When she reached the gate, she pushed her face halfway through the bars so as to get a look at the outside. Who’s there?

Silence.

Who is it?

Still silence.

The sister remained quiet, her face still halfway through the bars. Humph! she muttered, pulling her head back inside the gate. She was convinced that she had heard the bell and she was almost certain that she had heard something that sounded like someone crying.

She walked away from the gate as if she were going back to the garden. When she was out of the line of vision of anyone who might be looking through the gate, she moved quickly to the wall. Keeping her body close to the wall so that she would not be seen, she made her way back to the edge of the gate, and keeping out of sight from anyone outside, stood in silence; listening.

It seemed the night had become even more still than before. The distant howls had ceased, leaving only the sounds of the crickets. The sister heard nothing unusual, but somehow she knew that she was not alone. There was someone or some thing just outside the gate. Another howl; moving further away now. If this were a wolf or one of the devils she had heard about, she believed that she would have seen it by now.

Sister Helena usually tried to be an obedient nun, but she had always had a character trait that tested her devotions and sometimes seemed would be the end of her. It had caused her numerous problems as a child and an adult. It had gotten her into trouble with the Mother Superior more than once. She was cursed with an insatiable curiosity and a lust for intrigue.

After taking the key from the hook next to the gate, she stood quietly…still listening. She approached the gate and hesitated a moment more, then she put her face through the bars again. Keeping her face through the bars, she quietly inserted the key into the lock.

The tumblers in the lock made a surprising amount of noise as she turned the key. She stopped momentarily and looked again to see if any lights had been turned on in the buildings. There was a steadfast rule that the gates were not to be opened during the full moon. She pushed very gently against the bars, but the squeaking sounds of metal against metal seemed loud enough to wake the whole convent. No matter how slowly she pushed; the noise still filled the night.

Finally, the gate was open enough to allow her to pass the upper part of her large framed body through it. She checked again for lights. The buildings were still dark. She then leaned outward and looked to one side then the other. To the right of her, huddled against the wall was a small figure, covered by something, which looked like a blanket.

For a moment, the sister watched the motionless figure in silence. Then she called out, Hey! The mass beneath the cover moved suddenly, but remained covered. She surveyed the immediate area outside the gate. There was no one else around. With great caution, she advanced between the bars to the other side. After a moment’s hesitation, she took two steps and was next to the dark shape. Hey! She nudged the shape with her foot.

With a flurry, the blanket came down, revealing the face of a young girl; eyes wide and frightened. The two stared at one another in silence.

Sister Helena collected her thoughts, then said, It’s okay, I won’t hurt you.

The fear remained on the child’s face as her gaze went from the nun’s head, to her feet, and back to her head.

What’s the matter? Haven’t you ever seen a nun before? As she said the words, it occurred to her that the child might very well have never seen a nun. The long black habit and hood could be frightening to her. The sister used her most comforting tone as she spoke further.

I won’t hurt you. What are you doing here? Where are your parents?

The child pulled the blanket up to her chin and stared at the nun in silence.

How did you get here?

The sudden howling of a wolf interrupted the inquiry. Sister Helena twirled to look around; there was nothing there, but from the sounds of the howling, the animal had to be close. She turned back to the girl. Reaching down to help her to her feet, she said, Come on Sweetheart, don’t be afraid. Come inside and I’ll fix you some hot chocolate. Do you like hot chocolate?

The girl silently but readily accepted the nuns offer to go inside. There was terror in her eyes as she scanned the horizon while moving toward the gate. With a loud clanking noise the gate closed and Sister Helena turned the key in the lock, securing them from the dangers on the other side of the wall. She hung the key on the hook and hugged the trembling child to her. Then she noticed that several lights were now on in the buildings.

A few moments later the Mother Superior, wearing a floor length robe and her long hair hanging in a loose braid past her shoulders, was ushering Sister Helena and the girl into her office. She wanted to separate them from several curious nuns, also dressed in sleeping wear, who had gathered in the foyer. She closed the door and turned to Sister Helena and the girl. The young girl clung to Sister Helena’s habit as the two of them stood in the middle of the room.

The Mother Superior scrutinized the pair with a look of incredulity as she walked past them and took a seat behind her large oak desk. Please sit down Sister, she extended her hand to a chair in front of her desk. And you too child. She indicated the other chair in front of her desk.

The sister and the girl sat in silence, looking at the Mother Superior’s face, trying to read her mood.

Now, what is this all about, Sister, and who is this child?

Sister Helena looked at the girl. She has come seeking refuge from us, I believe. Then back to the Mother Superior. She rang the bell and I found her outside the gate.

And you opened the gate during the phase of the full moon?

Yes. Sister Helena averted her eyes from the Mother Superior’s eyes. I had no choice Mother; I couldn’t leave the child outside the gates in the middle of the night.

The Mother Superior was silent for a moment. No, I suppose not. She smiled, trying not to look threatening as she turned her attention to the girl. "What is your name child?’

The girl looked quickly toward Sister Helena and then back to the Mother Superior. Angela.

"And what in the name of heaven were you doing so far from home in the middle of the night?"

The girl looked at the floor and did not respond to the question.

The Mother Superior realized that she must have sounded upset. She adopted a more casual air to her voice. I’m sorry Angela. I didn’t mean to sound rude. Tell me, where are your parents?

Still no response.

Angela dear, you must tell me where your parents are and how I can contact them. They must be worried sick about you.

Angela reached into the pocket of her denim pants and removed a crumpled piece of paper. She unfolded it and without speaking stepped to the desk and placed it in front of the Mother Superior, then returned to her chair. The Mother Superior looked at the paper for a moment and then she began to read aloud:

Dear sisters,

Please take care of my little girl. Her name is

Angela and she is ten years old. She is very smart

and very good. I can not take care of her anymore

because I am very sick and I have no money. I will

be back for her as soon as I can. Please do not send

her away. I am a good Catholic and you are the only

people that I trust with her. Please keep her.

The Mother Superior placed the note on her desk. She looked at Sister Helena and then to the girl. Did you know what was written in this note, Angela?

Angela nodded her head in silence.

Do you know where your mother has gone?

Angela looked at her feet. No.

What is your last name, Angela?

Martin.

And what is your mother’s name?

Angela glanced sideways at Sister Helena. She seemed a little intimidated by the Mother Superior’s questions. Then she seemed to gather a little more courage. She raised her head and looked directly at her inquisitor. Karen.

The Mother Superior had begun writing on a pad in front of her. Can you tell us where you have been living?

Angela lowered her head again and said in a small voice as if she were ashamed, In a van.

Oh dear, blurted Sister Helena.

Sister, please!

The nun composed herself at the Mother Superior’s scolding tone and the mother continued. How long have you lived in a van?

Only since Daddy went away.

Oh, where did your daddy go?

Angela’s reticence continued. Her eyes stayed in a downward gaze as she answered. He had to go away.

I see. Did your mother say that your daddy would be coming back soon?

She doesn’t know when he’s coming back. She said it might be a long, long time.

"Oh…Well Angela I don’t want you to worry about a thing. I’m sure that your mother will be back for you very soon. You may stay with us tonight.

Sister Helena, why don’t you take Angela into the kitchen and get her something to eat. Would you like that Angela?

A wide smile came across Angela’s face. Yeah.

After she has had something to eat find her a place to sleep, and we will decide what to do tomorrow.

Yes Mother Superior, said Sister Helena rising.

Good-night Angela.

Good-night Mother Superior, and thank you very much.

The mother smiled at the young girl’s show of respect in addressing her so formally.

When Sister Helena and Angela left the Mother Superior’s office a few of the nuns were still waiting to find out who the girl was and what was going on. Sister Helena was eager to fill them in on the story. She whispered to them as she walked past them, We’re going to the kitchen to get something to eat.

The door to the Mother Superior’s office opened. Sisters I suggest you all go back to bed. We’ll discuss this situation tomorrow.

A few of the sisters met Sister Helena and Angela in the kitchen to hear the story. After a short time they had lost interest and left the two alone. Angela was finishing a piece of apple pie when she looked past Sister Helena, who was sitting opposite her. Sister Helena noticed the interested look on her face and turned to see what she was looking at.

Elise, said the sister. What are you doing up?

A young girl with long blonde hair was standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

I heard people talking, so I got up to see what was going on. Sister Judy told me there was another girl here, and that you were with her in here.

Well Sister Judy was right. Come over here and sit down.

Elise walked to the refectory table and sat next to the sister.

Elise, this if Angela. Angela, this is Elise. She lives here in the convent with us.

Hi.

Hi.

Angela continued eating her pie.

Elise, would you like to have something to eat?

No thank you Sister. May I have some hot chocolate?

Of course you may. Sister Helena went to the stove for the chocolate. She was very pleased to have the company of the two girls. Would you like some more hot chocolate, Angela?

Yes please. Angela smiled at Elise.

Did your mother leave you outside the gate?

Angela lost her smile and looked away from Elise. Yeah.

My mother is dead.

Angela returned her attention to Elise. What happened?

Sister Helena placed a cup of hot chocolate in front of Elise and poured some from a saucepan into Angela’s cup.

Elise’s mother was killed in a car accident about a year ago. So you see Angela, things could be worse.

Angela said nothing in response to the sister’s statement.

I know! said Sister Helena. Why doesn’t Angela sleep with you tonight, Elise? Perhaps the two of you will end up sharing your room. That is if the Mother Superior decides to let her stay.

Okay, said Elise with a smile. She was very happy to have another child around.

Elise had come to the convent after her mother’s death nearly a year prior. There was no official record of her birth, but she had claimed to be nine years old, which made her around the same age as Angela.

Her mother had joined some obscure religious order at a very young age, and consequently, had been disowned by all her family except her older brother. Her brother and only sibling was the Monsignor who headed the church a few miles from the convent.

For years, the Monsignor was the only member of the family that had any communication with his sister; this consisted of a letter or two per year. He had been contacted by the authorities from Minot, North Dakota, and informed that his sister had died in an auto accident. The investigation of her possessions had turned up several letters from him; otherwise Elise would have been made a ward of the state. There was no record of Elise’s father, so the guardianship fell to her uncle, which he readily accepted.

Although there was an immediate mutual fondness between uncle and niece, the Monsignor did not feel equipped to raise a child on his own. He wanted to keep her near him and insure that she had a high moral upbringing, so he went to the Mother Superior with a proposal.

He and the Mother Superior shared a long standing relationship and, being a man of substantial personal wealth, he had for years been a generous benefactor to the convent. Therefore it was not met with opposition when he had suggested that the convent, with a large donation from him, be expanded into a small private Catholic school for girls, and that Elise take up residency in it.

To date, the only student in the school had been Elise, but Sister Helena was certain that when the Monsignor met Angela, he would approve of her being Elise’s classmate; anyway she hoped so.

After the girls had had their fill of pie and hot chocolate, the sister escorted them to Elise’s room. It was a large room and could easily accommodate more furniture. At this time it had one single bed with a footlocker at the foot of the bed, a bureau, one desk and one chair. The head of the bed had a crucifix hanging above it on the wall.

We could put Angela’s bed over here. Sister Helena motioned to the area on the opposite side of the small bureau. And there is plenty of room for another desk and chair. She opened the closet door. There’s only one closet, but I think it will be big enough. She looked at the two girls. Well, we can work all that out later. The bathroom is down the hall. Elise why don’t you show Angela where it is and I’ll find a nightgown for her.

A short time later Sister Helena was standing next to the bed with the two girls tucked under the covers. It’s very late, so you girls go right to sleep. Don’t lie awake talking. She walked to the door, switched off the light and left the girls alone. There was a moment of silence in the room before both the girls broke into giggles. This was the beginning of a very close friendship.

CHAPTER 2

The following day Elise called her uncle and told him about her new friend. The Monsignor visited the convent and met Angela. He liked her immediately and also liked the idea of his niece having a companion of her own age.

There was a discreet inquiry made to confirm that there were no missing person bulletins out for a child fitting Angela’s description. The nuns also checked the obituaries from two weeks prior up to the present to ascertain whether or not anyone by the name of Karen Martin had been reported dead. Every household by the name of Martin within a fifty mile radius was queried, and no one had any knowledge of a child named Angela Martin.

With all these circumstances being so, the Monsignor strongly favored letting Angela stay at the convent school until which time her mother returned for her. The Mother Superior was prone to be accommodating to the Monsignor, so Angela stayed.

Months passed and the two girls became very fond of one another. They spent the major part of each day receiving what was in effect private tutoring from the nuns. Their free time was spent playing games with one another or reading novels that the nuns approved for them. Although their textbooks and novels kept them entertained, they found themselves becoming a little restless.

One evening Elise was reading at her desk and Angela was lying on her bed, tossing a pencil into the air and catching it as it fell.

I’m bored, said Angela.

Elise didn’t respond. She continued to read.

I’m bored, said Angela once more; putting emphasis on ‘bored’.

Elise looked up from her book. Why don’t you read?

I’m tired of reading.

Elise closed her book. Do you want to play a game?

Angela got a look of mischief on her face. Yeah.

Okay. What shall we play?

If I teach you a secret game, will you promise not to tell anybody?

What kind of game? Elise asked, puzzled by these conditions.

You have to promise. You can’t tell anybody.

Yeah, okay, said Elise, anxious to hear what Angela had to say.

Say it. Say you promise not to tell anybody.

Elise said, in a mocking attitude, I promise, I won’t tell anybody. There. Now, what’s the game? She felt that Angela was being silly, insisting upon secrecy for a game.

Angela was not pleased with Elise’s attitude, but she knew that it would change as soon as she showed Elise her game.

How would you like to go outside the convent walls?

What? We can’t do that. Besides, it’s almost dark out.

I can go outside.

If you get caught, you’ll be in a lot of trouble.

Oh, I won’t get caught. She looked at Elise in a playful way. "We…won’t get caught."

I’m not going outside the convent, Elise said adamantly.

Come here.

Angela sat on the floor in the middle of the room. Elise followed her lead. The two girls sat facing one another, each with her