The Nun

October 27, 2011
By Jo123 BRONZE, Arlington Heights, Illinois
Jo123 BRONZE, Arlington Heights, Illinois
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
You have a brain in your head and feet in your shoes, you can steer yourself in any direction you choose.
-Dr. Sues

There was a little mountain top village cresting the top of a medium-sized mountain. A little ways down the other side of the mountain, there was a temple for nuns. In the morning, you can hear the songs of praise drifting through the crisp mountain air. At noon- dinner, you can smell the candles burning as their sacrifices; and at supper, you can hear the chants of the prayer of thanks. To many travellers, this sounds like a tribal chant; and the smoke seems like the forest is on fire. To many outsiders, this village is quite queer and often avoided for fear of human sacrifices.

Throughout the day, the nuns are tending to their duties; and spending time praising their God. At meal times, there is praying and there are offerings. During the day the nuns are always in a group; therefor, nothing was private in the temple.

Since the night is the most time that the nuns have alone, it is easy for one to steal quietly into the night. As the lone nun sneaks into the sleeping village, the moon sends down enough light only to see the silhouette. If you watch carefully, you may be able to see the sharp and dangerously long dagger glint in the light of the full moon.

The nun comes across the first hut laying on the outskirts of the village; carefully and quietly, she runs past. The next few houses are only a few feet apart. The world is a blur for the nun as the adredaline courses through her blood.

As learned from her afternoon visit to the village, the strongest man in the entire village lives in the fifth house down the mountain. The Good Lord always said to offer your best lamb as a sacrifice. That is just what the nun intended to do.

In the middle of the night, you would think you would hear the screams of a dying man; but none could hear the contorted sounds escaping his mouth. After the throat was slit, the nun stole away back into the shadows of the night.

Nobody saw the robed figure slowly ascending the mountain back to refuge behind the huge iron gates. In the morning, all were confused. Hadn’t they all been asleep? As the trials of truth were called to order, the nun went about her duties with a bounce in her step. For nobody ever accuses a nun.

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