Page 2 of His Hell Girl

"Do you really think you can hide?" Cressida's snide voice resounds right before the door of the confessional rattles under the force of her kick.

I scoot further back until I hit the wall, the old wood of the confessional creaking.

"Got her." Cressida smirks in amusement as she wrenches the door open to look at me with malice in her eyes.

A breath catches in my throat as her hand goes straight to the collar of my uniform, tugging me forcefully out of the booth and thrusting me to the ground.

My limbs are trembling as I see the other girls assemble around me. I try in vain to scramble back and find some way to escape them, but as they form a closed circle, I realize I can't do anything but suffer whatever they have in store for me.

"Look at her," one of them snickers, her foot making contact with my arm. I immediately wince in pain, trying to move out of her reach.

"Don't," Cressida's arm shoots forward to stop her. "Remember what we discussed. We won't solve anything if we beat her."

My eyes widen at her words, and I'm about to sigh in relief, but then she continues, and her words make me shiver in horror.

"We need to cleanse the sin from her." She smiles insidiously as she looks at me, and the other girls immediately agree.

It's not as if I haven't heard that before, since Mother Superior herself takes me weekly for a private prayer session to cleanse the sin from me. Since I was born with a red mark on my forehead—the Devil's mark—it seems I am bound to be sinful. But while I'd agreed to follow Mother Superior's advice to rid myself from evil, thinking it would make people accept me, I'd never truly agreed to her method.

Because I don't think there's anything wrong with me…

Now, staring into Cressida's eyes, I am terrified of what will happen to me.

"No, please," I whimper, but the girls are already on me, one on each side, grabbing one arm and one leg, taking me toward the altar. Cressida is trailing behind us, barking the instructions.

Removing all the Holy items from the table, they place me on it, quickly securing my limbs with some rope. I try to kick atthem, but their nails dig painfully in my skin, and I find that I'm no match for them.

Not when I'm outnumbered.

When I'm mobilized to the table, the girls take a step back, letting Cressida pass as she comes by my side.

"I don't know why they would keep someone like you here. It's clear that you spoil everything you touch," she says, the corner of her mouth curling slightly.

She takes the Bible from a corner, opening it and reading a verse. One girl brings a container full with water and at Cressida's nod she pours it all over my face.

I blink twice, shocked at their actions. They keep pouring water over my face until I'm choking and sputtering.

"Deliver her from evil." I briefly hear Cressida's voice boom in the church, but my focus is on moving my head around to avoid the water getting in my mouth or nose. But the rhythm at which they are emptying the container on my face makes it hard not to swallow some.

"Stop," Cressida says, narrowing her eyes at my wet face. "This isn't working. I can still feel the evil radiating off her." She feigns consternation as she looks at my terrified expression.

"We need to make sure her entire body is sanctified." She instructs the girls, and they are quick to obey, stripping the clothes off my body until I'm left almost naked and shivering on the altar table.

Cressida keeps laughing, my torment seemingly feeding her mirth.

They keep on throwing water on me, and soon my teeth start clattering from the cold.

"Poor Assisi, she must be freezing," one of the girls comments, and they all start laughing.

Coming around the table, her hand grabs at my hair, tearing my updo, so that the strands are spilling down.

"Hmm," Cressida starts, her eyes sparkling with interest. My eyes widen as she comes closer, her gaze on my hair.

Please, no…

Although I know I'll never be pretty with my tainted face, my hair is the only thing remotely appealing about me. It's also the only thing I've taken great care of, making sure it's always combed and clean. And I've been growing it for years now.

As I look at Cressida assessing my hair, I already know what to expect. And it's killing me.

---