Dream, die and wake up 1/2

Black Chapel | 1991 | Luciel

In the dimly lit and dark room, a peculiar group occupied the space. Four women made up this intriguing scene: one of them stood with her back to the door, occasionally turning around as if fearing the arrival of something sinister. Another woman, wearing only a shirt, lay on a makeshift bed made of old fabrics, on which a pool of blood and amniotic fluid spread, indicating the unfolding of a tense labor. The third figure stood between the legs of the woman in labor, playing the crucial role of midwife. Finally, a woman of exceptionally tall and muscular stature stood out in the group, wearing a black uniform that emphasized her imposing presence. With military skill, she pointed a gun at the woman near the door and another at the midwife.

— How much longer are you going to stay in this... situation... — The voice of the woman in uniform echoed in the room, loaded with a strong German accent, giving a tone of authority and urgency to her speech.

The woman assisting in the birth, intimidated by the presence of the weapon, remained silent until the semi—automatic pistol was pressed sharply against the back of her neck.

— I asked a simple question, you damned Zigeuner! ObersterFührer is about to arrive, and this birth is crucial for him. Don't delay any longer, and make sure neither mother nor baby come to any harm, or...

— A-ah yes, ma'am... I... I'm almost done... — The woman's voice was clearly shaky and filled with desperation.

Minutes dragged by, filled only with the painful groans of the woman in labor and the efforts of the midwife. Finally, the tense silence was broken by the cry of a newborn. The child, with dark skin and crimson-red eyes, brought with it a mixture of surprise and horror, reflected in the midwife's cry of astonishment upon seeing it completely.

With surprising agility, the uniformed woman took the baby from the midwife's arms and handed him to the mother, offering a comforting touch on her tense shoulder.

I thank you very much for your services. You are all dismissed!" The guns lowered, and a moment of relief seemed to hang in the tense air. The women turned to leave the room, but before they could, two simultaneous gunshots rang out, followed by the dull thud of their bodies hitting the cold floor.

Luciel woke from one of those disturbing dreams that seemed to come more frequently since she had turned sixteen two months ago. She rose from the bed with a slow movement, gathering the platinum strands of her hair into a loose bun at the nape of her neck. A close look in the mirror revealed deep circles under her eyes, accentuated by the paleness of her skin that contrasted with her fair hair. Luciel's short stature always made her feel out of proportion, especially today when her clothes seemed too big for her body.

After stretching and stretching, she went down the stairs of the institution, where the rooms were located on the upper floor. The morning light began to filter through the windows, softly illuminating the hallways as Luciel headed towards the kitchen. There, she found only a few of the sisters and the children who, under their guidance, were preparing the morning coffee. The calm atmosphere of that moment contrasted with the hustle and bustle that often permeated the orphanage throughout the day.

Determined to start the day on a positive note, Luciel ignored the dark circles under her eyes that insisted on revealing her fatigue and focused on her morning routine. She washed her face carefully, feeling the coolness of the water awaken her senses and wash away the remnants of her disturbing dream. The usual ritual brought a certain comfort, a peaceful pause before facing the daily activities.

After leaving the bathroom, she headed towards the orphanage's central chapel. The sacred environment exuded a sense of peace and serenity, something Luciel deeply appreciated.

The visitor entered the silent chapel, where the dim light of the stained-glass windows created a serene atmosphere. She walked with light steps, almost as if she were afraid of disturbing the peace of the place. As she approached the altar, she saw a familiar figure with her back turned, kneeling before the Blessed Sacrament. She was a woman of remarkably tall stature, dressed in the habit of a nun, but something caught her attention: a black eyepatch covered her right eye, giving her a mysterious and striking air. her hair, once blond, was now whitened by time, tied in a tight bun.

When the woman noticed the visitor, she stood up with a grace that denoted experience and serenity. Turning slowly, her eyes met the young woman's and, even with only one eye visible, they conveyed a depth and intensity that could not go unnoticed. A warm smile formed on her lips, highlighting the lines marked by time and lived experiences.

— Fräulein! Good morning! — she greeted the lady with an energetic but at the same time soft voice, carrying with it a strong German accent that the visitor was already used to shearing.

Luciel returned the smile as she approached the lady.

— Did you sleep well, Uri? — Lucy asked the Nun.

— Oh, my keine maus! I did sleep, and you? — The lady replied, using an affectionate term that she always used with her.

Luciel’s smile faded as she remembered the nightmare that had plagued her that night. She shared with the lady the details of the disturbing dream, mentioning how these nightmares seemed to intensify since she had turned sixteen.

With a comforting gesture, the lady wrapped Lucy in a warm hug, transmitting security and confidence. They walked together to the kitchen, where the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the room. They sat at the table, while the other nuns circulated around the kitchen, avoiding eye contact with Urith.

During breakfast, Lucy thought about how much Ika's presence was missed in that place. she was like an older brother to her, someone who protected her and understood her like no one else. Together, they had shared many experiences and lessons at the orphanage.

The lady, known as Sister Urith, was a mother figure to Luciel. Always attentive and helpful, she taught him not only German and self-defense techniques, but also values of respect and solidarity. Lucy felt grateful to have someone like Sister Uri by her side, even in the most difficult times.

The day passed without any major changes for Luciel. In the morning, she devoted himself to her studies, trying to concentrate despite the dark circles under her eyes that betrayed her sleepless nights. During the afternoon, she helped with the cleaning and organization tasks at the orphanage, facing disapproving looks and murmurs from the other children. At the end of the afternoon, she went to the storage shed at the back of the main house to train with Uri, her only ally there.

Uri had always been a mystery to Luciel. The woman with an austere countenance and penetrating gaze spoke little about her past before becoming a nun. The little information Luciel had indicated a life of combat and scars, something that intrigued the young woman, but also made her respect her instructor even more.

The self-defense classes were intense, with Uri demonstrating impressive skills despite her advanced age. Luciel tried her best to keep up, knowing that such training was essential in an environment where she was not welcome. Uri, in turn, praised her dedication, but this did not lessen the feeling of loneliness and rejection that Luciel felt.

Even though she faced hostility and prejudice, Luciel found small moments of happiness in the simplicity of life at the orphanage. Despite everything, she had few complaints, trying to remain optimistic despite the challenging circumstances.

After the bodies fell to the ground, the woman in military uniform slowly turned around and walked towards the new mother. her footsteps seemed to weigh tons, echoing a sad melody in the silent room. She knelt down beside the woman, whose face was covered in tears and exhaustion.

In a soft voice, but with a strong German accent, the soldier murmured:

— You look horrible, Meine Dame.

The lady closed her eyes with a mixture of pain and resignation, responding with a heavy sigh:

— I know... I also know that I won't get up from here.

The room was enveloped in a heavy silence, interrupted only by the soft sound of the baby crying in her mother's arms. The soldier, with teary eyes, continued:

— I have two favors to ask of you... U—

Before she could finish her sentence, the woman interrupted, cutting through the pain in the air with her own agony:

— Celina, don’t start that sentence. I don’t know what I would do if you weren’t here anymore. What will become of this baby if you’re gone? You can’t just die here…

Tears continued to fall from her mother's eyes, her words barely articulated between sobs and despair. The soldier struggled to maintain her composure, holding her mother's hand firmly but also tenderly.

— You’ll be fine, my love — the mother whispered, her voice weak and trembling. — Take good care of our daughter for me, okay? She takes after you so much… I think her life will be harder than anything else.

A faint smile formed on the mother's lips, followed by a muffled, pained laugh.

— Promise me that she will stay away from any kind of trouble. Promise me that you will protect her forever. She is our treasure. Remember that. Please...

The soldier nodded silently, unable to hold back her own tears. She gently caressed the mother's face and murmured words of comfort as she held the baby in her arms.

— Take her... She's yours too.

The baby, enveloped in an even more piercing silence, looked with her red eyes at the soldier. A chill ran through the room as the baby began to transform, her black skin turning pink, her red eyes acquiring a soft pink tone. The soldier gave a sad smile and said in a lighter tone to her mother:

— She takes after you more, that s-

Before anyone could react, the soldier found herself alone in the room, surrounded by the stillness of death and the fragile cry of a baby, a symbol of a new beginning amidst grief.

Upon waking, Luciel found herself immersed in tears, an uncomfortable feeling of despair permeating her being. her body, drenched in cold sweat, denoted the agony she was experiencing at that moment.

Descending the stairs to the common room at an unusually early hour, before the first light of day, Luciel headed to the kitchen with the intention of helping with the preparations for morning coffee. Upon entering the room, she found Sister Dulcinea and Clarissa meticulously engaged in the culinary tasks, accompanied by Oja, Suria and Lugh.

Dulcinea had a serious expression, her short black hair highlighting the firmness of her amber gaze, which conveyed a mixture of determination and distrust. On the other hand, Clarissa radiated an aura of delicacy, her long blond hair flowing freely over her shoulders, and her clear blue eyes seemed to reflect the tranquility of her soul.

The young women in the kitchen made no effort to hide their dislike for Luciel, expressing it through harsh gestures and harsh words whenever they had the opportunity. This hostility seemed to have intensified since Hika 's departure from the orphanage. Lugh, the central figure of this group, stood out for her radiant beauty, shining blond hair and piercing blue eyes, but her arrogant and overbearing behavior deeply irritated Luciel. Suria, of Indian descent, had orange-toned brown skin, black hair braided in a traditional style and an elegant, yet reserved, posture. Oja, the most discreet of the three, went unnoticed with her curly brown hair, eyes of the same shade and fair skin that contrasted gently with her calm expression.

— Good morning, Luciel! — Clarissa greeted, with a forced smile on her lips, apparently oblivious to the malicious comments made about Luciel behind the scenes at the orphanage. — Already up at this hour?

Luciel looked at the girls in the kitchen with a forced smile, answering Dulcinea in a calm voice, despite the tension in the air:

— Well, sisters. Good morning to all. I came to help prepare the coffee.

Lugh 's whispers with the other girls did not go unnoticed. She spoke quietly, but not so quietly that Luciel could not shear:

— I think it's better not to, she'll poison the food just by getting close. — Lugh let out a low, irritating laugh, followed by Suria and Oja 's knowing giggles.

Luciel pretended not to have sheard and, with a determined look, addressed Dulcinea, who was trying to remain calm in the face of the situation:

— Yes, you can help us. Take the cake from the counter and take it to the table.

As she passed Lugh, Luciel felt a subtle push, almost imperceptible, but which carried all the contempt and hostility that the girls held. She took a deep breath and continued on her way without showing the irritation that was growing inside her. She picked up the cake pan and went to the living room, placing it on the table without returning to the kitchen.

Luciel sat at the table, trying to ignore the advances of Lugh and her allies. Looking out the window, she tried to focus on the passing clouds, but the malicious comments echoed in her mind, feeding the feeling of isolation and hostility that she faced every day there.

It wasn't long before Lugh approached, her blue eyes shining with malice as she stood beside Luciel, crossing her arms.

— What a beautiful sight, isn’t it? — Lugh teased, her voice dripping with sarcasm. — A loner like you, sitting at the table as if you were one of us.

Luciel swallowed hard, trying to remain calm in the face of the provocative words. She knew she couldn't give Lugh the taste of a reaction, but the tension was increasing with every second.

Before she could respond or even look away, Lugh reached out to grab the cake pan, clearly planning something malicious. However, something unexpected happened.

Upon touching the form, Lugh let out a sharp cry of pain and dropped the object, her hand visibly burned. Luciel's eyes widened, confused by the situation. She knew the form had been cool when she held it, making the incident even stranger.

Lugh 's scream caught the attention of everyone in the room, including Dulcinea and Clarissa, who ran to help the blonde girl. The other girls gathered around, creating a commotion that Luciel preferred to avoid.

In the midst of the confusion, Lugh accused Luciel of having burned her on purpose, an unfounded accusation that only increased the hostility towards her.

Luciel stood up, feeling the weight of injustice and the accumulated pressure. Without waiting for more unfair accusations, she stepped away from the table and tried to leave the room, but was blocked by the other girls, who tried to prevent her from leaving. Anger grew inside her, mixed with a deep sense of helplessness and incomprehension.

Dulcinea and Clarissa watched the situation with a certain indifference, while Oja and Suria joined Lugh, who was still howling in pain from the accident with her hand. The confusion increased when Luciel, feeling cornered, tried to get around the girls to leave the room.

Oja, influenced by the hostile atmosphere and the desire to please Lugh, advanced towards Luciel, trying to block her path. Suria, more hesitant, seemed to want to calm things down, but was being dragged along by the aggressive dynamics of the group.

Meanwhile, Clarissa remained watching, her fake smile now replaced by a more serious expression, as if she were evaluating the situation more critically. Dulcinea, for her part, seemed tired of the constant tension between the girls.

Luciel felt her heart race as she tried to find a way out. She knew she couldn't allow herself to give in to her anger, but the pressure of the moment was pushing her to the brink of losing control. Oja and Suria, influenced by the confrontational atmosphere created by Lugh, seemed determined not to let her get away with it.

Faced with this impasse, Luciel had to decide between trying to talk once more or using force to break through. She looked into Dulcinea and Clarissa's eyes, seeking some form of understanding or intervention, but they both maintained a distant posture, as if they were watching a show without getting directly involved.

Luciel took a deep breath, trying to control the emotions that were overwhelming her. She knew she needed to act cautiously so as not to make the situation even worse. With a determined look, she turned to Dulcinea and Clarissa, seeking a peaceful way out.

— Please, sisters, let me pass. I don't want any more trouble. — her voice was firm, but it carried a tone of pleading.

Dulcinea looked at Clarissa for a brief moment before responding, her expression was serene, but her eyes conveyed a certain coldness.

— Luciel, you need to resolve this situation in an adult manner. We cannot allow any more trouble in the orphanage. — She spoke in a calm but authoritative voice.

Clarissa remained silent, attentively observing the interaction between Luciel and the other girls. her posture was neutral, but her analytical eyes captured every detail of the scene.

Meanwhile, Oja and Suria hesitated in their actions, seeming uncertain about how to act in the face of the situation. Lugh, still recovering from the burn on her hand, stood back, watching the scene with a mixture of pain and satisfaction at seeing Luciel in trouble.

Luciel realized that she would not be able to convince the girls with words alone. With a resigned sigh, she made a decision and, with quick movements, dodged Oja and Suria, forcing her way through.

Oja tried to grab Luciel's arm, but the girl's strength surprised her, making her retreat. Suria, frightened by the turn of events, took a few steps back, not knowing how to react.

Luciel took the opportunity to leave the room, ignoring the girls' raised voices. She knew she would have to face the consequences of her actions, but at the moment, her priority was to find Uri and seek some comfort in the presence of the only person who seemed to truly understand her.

Luciel found Uri in her room, where she quickly explained what had happened in the kitchen. Uri listened attentively, her face expressing understanding mixed with concern.

— Luciel, I understand that you are going through a difficult time, but using force is not the solution. — Uri spoke in a calm but firm voice, while placing a comforting hand on Luciel's shoulder. — You know that we have to solve our problems peacefully. I know it was not easy, but we need to find a better way to deal with these situations.

Luciel nodded, recognizing the wisdom in Uri’s words. She knew her impulsive attitude had not been the best choice, but the accumulated pressure and frustration had led her to act impulsively.

— I understand, Uri. Sorry for the confusion. It's just... sometimes it's hard to deal with all this. — Luciel said, letting a bit of vulnerability show in her voice.

Uri smiled gently, showing her support for the young girl.

— I know, Lucy. You're not alone in this. We're here to help each other. Let's think of a way to resolve this situation without any more confrontation, okay? — Uri suggested, offering Luciel a comforting hug.

She was escorted back to where the others were by her sister. As she entered the cafeteria, she noticed the looks of nervousness and hostility on the faces of the girls and the other sisters. They began to scold her as soon as Luciel stepped into the room, but Uri interrupted them, holding Luciel's head firmly and making her apologize to the two girls and the sisters.

— But what about poor Lugh!? That... Girl, burned her on purpose! — said Oja, trying to involve Luciel in trouble again.

Dulcinea and Clarissa approached, observing the scene attentively. Their looks were disapproving, but they also showed a certain doubt regarding the events.

— There's no way I could have done that! I didn't do anything to that girl! The crazy woman came at me and grabbed the pan to hit me. Too bad for her, it was hot! — Luciel said in her defense, feeling the tension grow in the room.

— Is that true, Lugh? — Uri directed her judging gaze at the girl holding her hand.

— O—of course not, she burned me on purpose with the mold! She took the mold and threw it at me, I caught it and it burned my hand! — Lugh lied, trying to get rid of the guilt.

The discussion grew louder and more intense, with Luciel feeling increasingly cornered by the accusations and hostility of the other people present. Dulcinea and Clarissa, although they maintained a serious expression, seemed interested in shearing the truth behind the confusion.

Uri analyzed the situation seriously, picking up the cake pan from the floor to examine it. She ran her hand over the surface, checking the temperature, and handed it to Dulcinea to do the same.

— This mold is cold, sister! — Uri said to Dulcinea. — It couldn’t have reached such a high temperature in such a short time. The floor of the dining hall is made of wood and would retain the heat. Just like the cake. — Uri turned to Lugh, holding her chin and making her look into her good eye. — It’s okay to do something stupid and get burned, but blaming someone who has nothing to do with it is low. It goes against the creator’s teachings. What have you ever seen... blaming someone for an accident that was possibly completely your fault! Where you got burned! Tell the truth!

Lugh, now even more nervous, looked around for support, but the looks from the other sisters and the girls were of solidarity, not distrust. They seemed willing to believe Lugh 's version, despite the evidence.

Luciel, even in the face of the tension and the support that Lugh received from the other girls, remained firm, looking everyone in the eye with determination. The discussion was heated, until she decided to intervene more assertively:

— Surely, Lugh must have been confused by the pain and thought I had something to do with it because I passed too close to her or something like that when she got burned. Nothing that deserves so much attention... I don't complain and she certainly doesn't either, right? — She lied, giving the girl a stern look.

— Y-yes. — Lugh lowered her head, feeling the pressure of the environment and the weight of the lie.

Dulcinea and Clarissa said, understanding the situation and deciding to end the matter.

— Let’s leave that aside. Right? — Uri added, easing the tension a little. — But let’s not let that happen again.

When Luciel left the cafeteria with Uri, sheading towards the nuns' quarters, she couldn't help but feel a mixture of relief at having escaped the tense situation in the dining room and anxiety about the conversation she would have with Uri. The tension accumulated in interactions with the other girls in the orphanage always seemed to be lurking, ready to manifest itself in surprising and hostile ways.

Upon arriving at the nuns' room, Luciel sat down in one of the chairs, searching for some way to express everything she was feeling. Uri, with her welcoming presence, waited patiently for Luciel to share what was troubling her.

Luciel told Uri the rest of the dream, detailing the disturbing images that haunted her. Uri listened to every word attentively, absorbing the narrative with a serious and understanding expression. When Luciel finished, Uri slowly turned to face her, her eyes revealing the sadness and concern that those words had awakened.

— Meinekleine maus, come here. — Uri’s voice was soft, but it carried a note of concern. — These dreams are hard to deal with, but you’re not alone in this.

Luciel felt a mixture of gratitude and regret as she hugged Uri, seeking comfort in the connection they had built over the years at the orphanage.

The rest of the day passed amidst regular activities, but Luciel couldn’t completely shake the feeling of unease. As the afternoon wore on, a growing tension hung in the air, as if something was about to happen.

At dusk, as Luciel prepared to sleep, a shiver of alert made her alert. Instinctively, she hid under the bed, her senses heightened and her heart racing.

Minutes later, she sheard subtle footsteps approaching her room. Three whispering voices indicated the presence of the girls who always seemed to find creative ways to make her life even more difficult.

Suria, Lugh, and Oja crept into the room, carrying a bucket of water. Luciel stood motionless, watching the scene unfold as if she were watching a horror movie in slow motion.

The girls threw the water on Luciel's bed, a childish attempt to provoke and intimidate her. Luciel, containing the anger that was bubbling inside her, remained hidden, determined not to give in to their game.

After the brief attack, the girls ran off, laughing softly as if they had achieved some sort of victory. Luciel, for her part, emerged from her hiding place with a determined expression.

She would not allow those cowardly acts to bring her down. That night, her tears were silent, but her determination to face the challenges that life in the orphanage imposed on her was stronger than ever.

The woman in uniform ran desperately through the dark street, her footsteps echoing in the silence of the night. The weight of the child in her arms was like an anchor, anchoring her to an uncertain and dangerous destiny. her gaze incessantly searched for something in the dark landscape, a way out, a hope, but the scene seemed to only close her in a labyrinth of fear and uncertainty.

Finally, she spotted the phone booth, a last refuge amidst the impending chaos. With trembling hands, she dialed the numbers in a hurry, her heart beating wildly in her chest as she waited for the connection to be established. When she sheard the voice on the other end of the line, her face showed a mixture of relief and despair.

— Mein Herr. I fear that we will not be able to meet again any time soon. I will not be able to hand over my child to you either. They are chasing us... Die Hurensöhne! — She paused, listening attentively to the interlocutor's response, while anxiety mixed with sadness in her eyes.

The conversation was brief, but each word carried the weight of a farewell sentence. As she hung up the phone, her fingers trembled slightly, the cruel reality of the situation sinking in. She hurried out of the booth, her steps now seeming slower, laden with resignation and regret.

When they arrived in front of the orphanage, their eyes met the child's, and there was all the pain, fear and uncertainty reflected. The words that were not said echoed in the air, an unspoken farewell, an imminent separation, a silent and agonizing goodbye.

— Mein keine maus... — she murmured, her voice choked with emotion, as they entered the orphanage gate, facing the stranger who waited inside.

Luciel woke up shaking, sad and in pain, as if the presence of the uniformed woman had brought back difficult memories of Uri. She got up in the early morning, feeling the cold floor beneath her feet, and grabbed the blanket she had used to sleep. The antics of the "three bitches" the night before had forced her to put the mattress upright to dry in the corner of the room.

As she walked down the hallway after leaving her room, a malicious and intriguing idea took shape in her mind. A subtle smile appeared on her lips as she imagined how she could get revenge on Lugh, the leader of the teasers.

Arriving in the kitchen, she came across a huge pot full of old, rancid oil, intended for making soap. Luciel had a perverse and meticulous inspiration. She picked up the pot without much difficulty, although its weight surprised her. Then she picked up a dustpan to shelp her carry out her plan.

With cautious steps, she made her way to Lugh 's room. she slowly opened the door, revealing the girl's sleeping form. Luciel positioned the oil pan next to Lugh 's head, balancing it skillfully on the headboard of the bed. The dustpan served as a makeshift support, ensuring that the trap remained stable.

With a satisfied look at the scene, Luciel left Lugh 's room and returned to her own room. She spread the blankets on the floor and lay down again, waiting for the right moment for her revenge to be carried out. The silence of the early morning seemed to be an accomplice to her plans, as she imagined the exaggerated and noisy reaction that would come at any moment.

The sound of the alarm echoed through the hallway, quickly waking everyone around. Luciel left the room with the most innocent expression she could muster and observed the pandemonium; luckily for her, she seemed to be the last one to appear.

She came across an oil—smeared Lugh, crying and cursing loudly. It was hard to contain her laughter while maintaining a worried expression.

As soon as Lugh saw Luciel, she advanced towards her, cursing and pointing her finger: — You bitch! Whore! Hellish cow! It was you, wasn't it?

— Who? Me? Of course not, are you crazy? I also suffered a prank like that today... My bed is still soaked. Whoever did this to you, probably did it to me too. — Luciel kept a fake smile, looking deep into Lugh's eyes, making it clear that it was her and that she knew that the soaked bed was Lugh's work.

Lugh couldn't take it anymore and slapped Luciel on the right side of the face just as Sister Dulcinea appeared in the hallway. But that didn't stop her; Luciel grabbed Lugh's arm with her left hand and, with her right, struck her elbow, which broke immediately.

She let go of her, watching her fall to the ground and scream in pain. During those moments, it was as if there were only the two of them in that space, the rest becoming mere background noise. Luciel's face displayed a genuine smile of satisfaction and relief at finally giving vent to her anger.

Lugh’s eyes went from hatred to fear, a look Luciel still didn’t understand. But then she saw herself reflected in the window and understood: her eyes, usually pink, were intensely red, with slitted pupils, a terrifying contrast to the distorted smile she now wore.

Soon after, she was led to a separate room, where she remained while the sisters discussed her fate. Apparently, Lugh was being cared for, but Luciel did not care; she felt no guilt for what she had done.