Another gust of wind rolls through the mission courtyard, causing the two nuns to reach up to their crosses and lean forward against the stiff breeze. From a distance the two appear wraithish and predatory, like spectral vultures perched above their prey. A fly lands on Sister Witchhaven's cheek, flaps its wings and walks a jerky figure-eight there before a hand slaps down upon it and crushes its body. Sister Witchhaven takes the mangled fly and rolls it back and forth between her index finger and thumb, unconsciously destroying the thing while she keeps her focus on the children.
"Tonight will be very exciting then, don't you think?" she says. A corner of her mouth twitches slightly, her mouth's best representation of a nun's smile.
"Tonight will suck shit." says Sister Bachova. "But I'll be glad to be done with the whole thing."
1 comment:
Sister Bachova, I love you...
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