Phantom Pain (trilogy)

The Monastery

Chapter 11: The Monastery

The first thing I noticed was that my prediction had held true. The sun had just fallen below the horizon as we drove up the thin road to the towering monastery.

The second thing I noticed was how—from this angle—it almost eerily resembled Castle Moore, with its European styled spires.

This was no American church. It was a monastery, and a nunnery, facing each other, made of grand stones and creeping ivy. This was where the truly devout came to get away from the world. If there was any group that had a chance of weathering the coming storm, this was it.

The last time we'd been here, Dez and I hadn't even driven up to the top of the hill. We'd let Gavyn climb out, and watched as he'd disappeared from our view. This was where his father's friend, Kurt, had told him to meet, and we'd waited nervously in the nearby town until Gavyn had called to confirm everything was okay. This time we pulled up into the empty parking lot. There were less than ten spaces. It looked like monks didn't like cars.

“This is kind of cool,” Kera said. “Like those ruins I visited when I was in Europe. It doesn't really look inhabited though.”

I looked up in confusion, and saw what Dez had already noticed. The monastery did not look the same as the last time we had been here. Massive chunks had been knocked out of the stone roof, and the garden was in disarray. Kera was right, the place looked abandoned.

“No.” I was unsure whether Dez had said the word, or I, but we were both out of the truck before another breath had passed our lips.

The massive wood doors through which Gavyn had entered—the very last time we'd seen him—hung open, one of them attached by a single hinge. We had to find out what happened here, but I paused on the doorstep, terrified of what I would see.

Dez took the first step, and I followed her. The hallway had not been renovated in a long time, the arching cobblestones were constructed almost like an ode to the medieval era. It was very dark, and Dez pulled out a flashlight. On the walls were mounted metal oil lamps: unlit.

“Guys?” Kera had found something.

Dez and I hurried back down the corridor, where she had pushed open the doors to what looked like a chapel. Across the door was yellow police tape, some of it peeling off. This was not a fresh crime scene. The chalk outlines on the floor of this holy room had been rubbed mostly away by the passage of time.

If Gavyn had died here, I would know. I would feel it in my cour. I told Dez this, but it was like she already knew he wasn't among the victims.

“I can't believe we left him,” she whispered, pacing around the outside of the room, counting the bodies.

I'd done it already. There were sixteen visible outlines.

Camael had told me that the demons were hunting members of this secret society. I flashed back to Pastor Bomani. The demons had kept him alive, after killing Madam Moore. Why? Because she'd guarded Lucifer's sword, and they'd known where that was. Understanding hit me like a brick wall. The thought of Gavyn in the clutches of the demons made my knees weak, and I slid to the ground, back to a pew. He didn't even know.