Bad Habits: A Dark Anthology

by Yolanda Olson

  He looked to me then, eyebrow raised, then back to her, grinning. “Thank you, Sister. I’ll have whatever.”

  She bowed her head and smiled, walking off to get his food and drink.

  I was pleased. Such a nice change in her now that the bitchy side had been fucked out of her.

  “Sister Constance, that was very nice of you.” Solomon opened his napkin and folded it across his lap. “You look well. Feeling better today?” Amber eyes met mine, and I could’ve sworn he winked at me.

  Evil man.

  I wanted to jump him. Right here on the table. And he knew it, too.

  I felt his foot nudge mine, and I nudged back.

  When his punch and plate arrived, he took a sip of his cup, then chuckled. “Yes. Very well, I see.”

  “Father?” asked Sister Hazel, puzzled.

  He waved her off. “So tell me how the prep for tomorrow goes?”

  We chatted with him for awhile before I stood and offered to help clean up. Sister Abigail was pleased with me, even complimenting me on my choice of dinner. Everyone was full and in good spirits, no nasty looks or refusals of food. Sister Hazel scarfed down at least five pieces of pizza. Sister Diane was content, no longer the same creature who threw daggers at me at every turn.

  All in all, it was a good night.

  After mass, we all talked about the schedule for tomorrow. We’d have a booth set up downtown on Main Street and would work in shifts. The whole town was involved, businesses and other faiths that provided services for the people of Treverstone. The weather was discussed—no rain, no heatwave, practically perfect—and the transportation—offered rides from a few parishioners. And by the time we were done discussing, we were at our rooms.

  Goodnights were said. Bathroom time was evenly rotated. And the whole time as I watched and listened, I was shaking my head in disbelief. Trevorstone Parish had been completely transformed.

  I was pleased.

  Chapter Seven

  “We’d love to have you at Trevorstone Parish!” Sister Diane said to the couple I was serving lemonade to. “Early mass on Sunday starts at eight, and late mass at noon. Oh, and help yourselves to these cookies! I made them just this morning.”

  I smiled to myself hearing her wax so sweetly about Father Kent’s parish. It had been a fine day so far, and I was surprised how much I was enjoying sharing it with her. She was no Hannah, far from it, but I liked her. I always told Solomon that people would be way more pleasant if they just allowed themselves to be, well, themselves.

  Speaking of, my ears picked out his voice from the crowd, and I quickly finished up with the couple in front of me so that I could go meet up with him.

  I told Sister Diane that I’d be right back, then wiped my hands on my apron and made my way over a few booths down to where Solomon was holding court with the town sheriff and the mayor.

  “—should bring in some more people,” the mayor was saying. “It’s good for the town, I say. And between you and me,” he leaned forward, lowering his voice in a conspiring manner, “I wouldn’t mind Pastor Jacob’s flock to move on out, if you know what I mean. Them Baptists scare me.”

  The sheriff coughed and rubbed the back of his neck. Father Kent pretended to be interested in his shoes, but I could see his eyes smiling with humor.

  “Ah, Sister,” the mayor said now, noticing me standing there. “I was just telling Father Kent here that we’re very happy to have you in Trevorstone. I’m Mayor Bradshaw. This here is Sheriff Thomas.” He put out his hand but looked undecided on that type of greeting toward a nun. He smiled coyly and slid his hand back into his pocket instead.

  “Thank you, Mayor Bradshaw,” I offered. “Actually, I’m from New Weather. I just came here to volunteer for a few weeks while they get settled here, then I must get back to the city.”

  “Oh? That’s a mighty fine drive, Sister. That’s too bad you can’t stay.” He frowned and was about to say more but Solomon spoke instead.

  “I’m trying to convince her to stay, Mayor. She’s been a marvelous help with the parish.” His lips twitched and his eyes did that sparkle thing that drove me crazy.

  I pursed my lips, then smiled sweetly, none the wiser. “Well, we’ll see.”

  “We’ll be glad to have a new face in the community, for sure, Sister,” said the sheriff kindly, totally oblivious to the heated glances Father Kent and I shared.

  After a bit more chit chat on their part, I heard my name being called behind me and gave my goodbyes to the men, then went back to the booth, where I spent the next three hours counting down the seconds until I could be alone with Solomon.

  Tonight, he had said.

  Was I nervous? Absolutely. And I didn’t even want to think about when I’d have to leave Trevorstone. It was going to break my heart. Every time the thought came sneaking up on me, I’d push it away. Solomon had promised that I’d have my questions answered, so I was going to wait. Then I’d find a way to stay and never leave.

  We’d left the majority of our things in bins back at the booth in town, so there wasn’t much to unload now that we were back at the parish. On the way, Sister Hazel and a few others had driven by the grocery store to pick up sandwich stuff for our dinner. All of us were dog-tired and wasn’t about to cook a thing.

  I ate my dinner quickly and quietly, which gave me enough time to spare a quick shower before evening mass. I scrubbed and washed every inch of myself, preparing my body for him—just thinking his name made me feel giddy.

  I was combing my hair after I dried off, wondering if I should even bother to braid it, when a knock sounded on the bathroom door.

  “Just a minute, hold on!” I grabbed my things and opened the door.

  “I was just checking on you. Come, I have something for you.” Sister Diane held the door for me as I slipped out and went to my room. The light was on, allowing me to see the three Sisters standing by the bed, smiling. Behind me, the door shut softly.

  “What is it?” I asked, curious, putting down my things. That’s when I noticed the white dress laid out on my bed. It looked like satin, like a wedding dress. I looked at them, totally confused.

  “Father Solomon sent us to ready you, dear,” the Sister named Olivia said sweetly.

  My cheeks started to burn with embarrassment and… anger. He’d told them about us? Was this a trick? Or was he setting me up?

  Diane stood in front of me and placed her hands on my shoulders. “None of that thinking, Sister.” She looked me dead in the eyes. “Listen, Constance. It is time. It’s alright. You are here at this parish for Father Kent.”

  “And to take your vows, child,” the other Sister said. She was older, with dark skin and beautiful brown eyes. Kind and soft.

  “But… I can’t take my vows here. It’s not…” I waved absently at the gown on the bed and looked at each woman. “I’m not staying. I mean, I already belong to a convent.”

  “Of course you’re staying!” Sister Diane laughed. “You are the one he chose, Sister.” Her voice then took on a hint of reverence, and she dropped her gaze in submission. “You are to be our Mother.”

  Someone touched my arm. “Indeed. And we are here to ready you for Him,” one of them said, not sure which. I was too hung up on the capital H I’d heard in that him.

  “But you all don’t even like me,” I said stupidly as they began undressing me. I didn’t stop them, just stood there in a daze. A daze of utter confusion.

  “Well,” Sister Olivia began, laughing sweetly, “we had to make sure, you see. But you are the one He has chosen, and we will honor you, Mother.”

  “It is true, my Beloved,” Solomon said in my head like a lover’s caress. “I will see you at the altar. Let your Handmaidens assist you.”

  I gasped, finding something to cling on to.

  “Easy, easy. Sister Darla, go get her something to drink,” someone, Diane perhaps, said. “Something a little strong.”

  I was led to the bed, the dress already on me now, while someo
ne brushed my hair and began to braid it. A drink was handed to me, and I greedily drank up, barely able to breathe.

  I didn’t remember much about the walk through the hall and main room, except it was dark, only lit by candlelight. I didn’t remember crossing the breeze way, except the cold cement under my feet. And I didn’t remember anyone giving me a bouquet of crimson delphinium to hold, by I remember their smell—soft and sweet like a summer’s day.

  When the doors to the church opened, it was like my dream from the other night come to life. The congregation was filled, every pew taken. A billion candles burned. People I had met just this very day, had handed over cookies and cups of lemonade to, they were all there. The sisters of Trevorstone Parish stood shoulder to shoulder at the left of the altar, two priests that I had briefly met earlier this morning, both visiting clergymen stood to the right of the altar. And in the middle, at the end of the aisle, stood my Solomon.

  He wasn’t wearing his robe, nor white, just his usual black tunic and pants, with his crisp white collar. His hands were folded comfortably at his trim waist, his head slightly bowed. And his eyes… Mother of Our Precious Lord, his eyes were golden orbs of fire, so beautiful they took my breath away.

  “Come, my Beloved. Come, my Bride. I give myself to thee.” He held out his hand. I moved forward.

  There was a collective sigh as I passed each pew, the only sound but the banging of my heart in the whole space. No music, no bells, no choir. It was as if time had stopped to witness the union that was to take place.

  Was this real? This surreal event, this unimaginable happening… I just couldn’t wrap my mind around it. So I stopped trying and moved instead. I could feel my cheeks aching from my wide smile. Never had I felt such joy, having never thought I would find it.

  Unlike in my dream, the walk wasn’t long. Finally, my steps ended, and I stood inches from him, my hand in his. He cupped my face with his other hand, so tender, so loving.

  “My Constant Star.”

  “Mr. Voice,” I whispered.

  He smiled but grew solemn once more. “You are here to take the next step in the vows you took of faithfulness and servitude, in charity and faithful works. Do you now give yourself to Him who is your Master?”

  “I do,” I said, confident now in the truth I heard from his heart.

  “And, Sister Constance, do you give yourself to me to be my Bride? All that you are and possess, will you bind your soul with mine?”

  The words flowed from my lips like I’d said them a thousand times, “I do, and to thou my heart and soul is given.”

  He turned then and said a few words to the congregation, which they answered in turn. Then he addressed the Sisters behind me and the clergymen beside him.

  “Do as thou wilt, sayeth we,” they sang in chorus.

  “And it is answered. So shall it be,” Solomon intoned. He leaned forward and touched my lips to his, then everything went black.

  Chapter Eight

  Something cold was digging into my back. I tried to roll over away from it, but it was a struggle. I felt weighted down, as if a blanket made of iron was holding me flat.

  “Shh, My Constant Star,” Solomon said from somewhere close by. “Open your eyes.”

  Solomon. I instantly relaxed. His voice washed away my discomfort, bringing a contented sigh. When I opened my eyes, Father Kent was above me. He seemed to glow. The golden expanse of his naked chest, his muscled shoulders that met his neck and throat, made him appear angelic.

  I smiled. “You have no shirt on.” I reached to touch his warm skin but quickly discovered that my hands were restrained behind my head. My eyes widened, and I tried to lift my head, but it was too heavy.

  His expression was tender as he touched my forehead, combing my hair back with his fingers. “I’m going to take you now, Beloved. The restraints are for your own protection.” He pulled back, and I could see now that he was fully naked. His cock, thick and hard as a rock, was beautiful. Wetness pooled between my legs, making me aware of my own nakedness.

  Where was I?

  I rolled my head to the side as best as I could and looked above me and to the right. My breath quickened when the whole congregation looked back at me. The cold hardness against my back and thighs must be the marble altar. I was laid out for the whole church to witness.

  Struggling now, Solomon cupped my pussy and I stilled. He leaned over me again, standing by my side behind the altar.

  “My Beloved, you have already given yourself to me,” he said softly, kissing my throat, my stomach. “I have waited a long time to have you ready. We will remake the world the way it should be. Do not fight it.” His kisses worked. A languid feeling swallowed me whole, bringing total contentment. And on its heels was want.

  Panting, I begged him to touch me. With his hands, with his tongue. With his cock. Lost in a haze of warm desire, I was barely aware when he climbed on top of me. He grabbed each of my legs and placed them over his shoulders, looking down at me like a conquering god. I saw pure lust and more in his eyes, and I felt true terror then.

  When he plunged into my core, unbelievable pain split me in two. I screamed. He began to rock inside me, the veins in his neck bulging from the control he was maintaining. And in a language I’d never heard, he started chanting. Amber eyes never left mine as he spoke the strange language of Hell.

  Pain and fear, which seemed to go on for an eternity, suddenly transformed into pleasure. His words built up into a progressive rhythm that worked in tangent with his thrusts, getting faster, growing louder, until I cried out in pure bliss.

  His cock grew inside me, filling me, until the rest of the world dropped away and all that existed was Him.

  With a roar, he came, coming deep inside me. But he didn’t stop there.

  “Take my seed, child,” he moaned. “Feel me fill you.” He reached above my head then and released my restraints, pulling me up to sit on his cock as he held me, using his hands on my shoulders for leverage to thrust inside me again and again, pounding me until I was numb.

  My throat was raw from screaming, both in pleasure and pain. When he came inside me for the third time, lifting his head to the heavens on a roar, he stopped and held me against him. Our sweat was like glue against our chests and thighs, his come pooling and dripping out of me. But he held me so tight.

  I knew then that I was forever changed.

  After a few moments of catching our breaths, I heard the squeaking of the pews and the rustling of fabric. The congregation was rising.

  Solomon kissed the top of my head and got off the altar, still holding me the whole while. He faced the people and spoke. “I give you Mother Constance. My Beloved. She is yours as much as mine. Do you welcome her?” he asked them.

  “Mother Constance, we welcome you,” they sang.

  I kept my head tucked into Solomon’s neck, too drained to look upon them. But I smiled.

  I was home.

  Epilogue

  “Mother Constance,” Sister Olivia called from the door of my office.

  “Yes, Sister?” I put down my pen and looked up.

  “Someone is here to see you. I left her in the dining hall. Poor dear needed some tea.” She shook her head in sympathy.

  “Oh? Well, Iet me go see who it is.” Curious, I left my office, shutting the door behind me.

  Even though it had been less than a year that I’d been here, it still felt like yesterday that I’d gotten off the bus that delivered me to my destiny.

  I still remember the shock at finding out that my imaginary friend was real. That he had been real all along, albeit away from me in body, waiting until I was ready to join him. My love for him grew each day; my desire each night. He was my world, and together we were rewriting that world, one parishioner at a time.

  I headed for the kitchen. As I passed the main room, Sister Diane was taking a cock up the ass. The priest behind her, lost in the throes of complete worship, moaned into the mouth of Mayor Bradshaw, whose cock was bein
g thoroughly serviced by the town librarian, Mrs. Willson.

  Ah, the sounds of depravity were sweet to my ears. It was the song of my wicked soul. I bowed their way, smiling, and passed the kitchen. But I stopped in my tracks when I got to the doorway of the dining hall.

  Sitting at the table was a nun in a gray habit and white veil, quietly drinking from a porcelain cup, her head down like she was praying.

  She looked up as I entered the room. Big blue eyes, soft pale skin. The face of a princess. But so very sad.

  “Hannah,” I whispered.

  Tears began to fill her lovely eyes, and I moved closer. When she stood, all made sense. Her rounded belly, heavy with child, said it all.

  “Oh Constance,” she whispered back, her throat thick with the oncoming tears that were about to fall. I went to her, putting my arms around her.

  “All will be well, I promise, Hannah. We will take care of you.”

  And then we talked for hours, right before it was time to ready for dinner. When Solomon found me, he kissed my head in welcome, and I introduced the Sister to my Beloved.

  “Welcome, Sister Hannah,” he said, touching her shoulder. “Come, let’s get you settled.”

  We brought her to Sister Hazel, who petted and clucked at her, taking her under her wing and showing her to a room.

  I watched them leave, my heart full and happy. When I leaned against Solomon, I sighed contently. “So, my love, what is tonight’s sermon on?”

  He held me tight, his strong arms embracing me. I could feel his delicious cock hardening against my ass, and I wiggled.

  “Evil woman,” he whispered in my ear before biting it. “Tonight I will be talking about the merits of temperance.”

  I turned my head and looked up at him. “Really?”

  Laughing, he bopped me on the nose, which he knew I hated. “Oh, yes. Really.” Then he grinned. “It’s always good to know one’s enemy.”