December 22, 1997
⚠ Religion

          The life of a baby begins as a blank canvas, awaiting the brushstrokes of experience and growth to shape its journey. From the moment of birth, every day unfolds with new discoveries and developments, marked by an innocent wonder that colors their world.

You'd pray for such things to be true for ever infant, but it wasn't true for this one. For he was tainted with a curse from the beginning. Having compound v in his veins  yet born as a stillborn has its consequences.  Yet, still alive and crying as if he just left the his mother's womb. Who was his mother? Father? Siblings? The poor infant seem to have had none as he was left abandoned in an alleyway on a rainy night. Maybe he'd been there for far longer, maybe not. But then again the sound of a wailing infant are sure to awaken the whole block if not the surrounding area.

But no.

Not one single soul came to the infants aid. Deserted amongst trash, he awaited sanctuary despite not knowing he continously wailed for it.

Life was unfortunately cruel for the infant as it will be in the future.

In the dimly lit alleyway, rain pelted the cobblestones with a relentless rhythm, as a nun did her rounds around the church. Sister Marci was her name. She sought aid and faith to the church as her past life was hectic and cruel despite her ruthless life, her faith never withered. It only grew as much as her harsh life did. Turning to God was her true calling, as it would prove true in a few moments.

She hurried along in her worn habit, clutching her rosary beads. Her steps echoed against the walls of the old buildings that leaned over the narrow passage, casting elongated shadows in the flickering streetlights. The city noises were muted here, enveloped by the steady downpour.

As she turned a corner, faint wailing caught her attention. Sister Marci paused, her heart skipping a beat as she scanned the alley with concerned eyes. There, nestled amidst the puddles and the cold, draped among trash bags lay a fragile bundle—a baby, wrapped in a soaked blanket. She knew if the child stayed longer, it would soon die of hypothermia. What boggled her mind was who would leave such a precious soul like that?

Without hesitation, she rushed forward, her weathered hands gently lifting the infant into her arms. The baby stirred, a tiny hand reaching out and grasping her finger. The warmth of the child against her chest pierced through the chill of the rain.

It was as if the infant felt immediate warmth, it soon calmed it wails but now light whined.

"Shhh, little one," she whispered soothingly, her voice a calming melody in the storm. "You're safe now."

As she observed the infant more, she found marks as if the baby had been abused. She said nothing but her face explained clearly what she was feeling. As she gently touched his face, she retraced her hand. "My word- you're freezing."

Her thoughts raced. Who could abandon such innocence in the midst of a storm? With tender care, Sister Marci cradled the baby closer, shielding it from the rain with her cloak. She murmured prayers for the child's protection, feeling a surge of compassion mixed with indignation at the callousness of the world outside their secluded sanctuary.

And maybe, just maybe that was what caused her obsession to protect the child. As stated, she didn't have a good life before puttng her faith in the church. She had a baby of her own, but didn't last long. For she had an abortion. She confess this sin numerous times, hoping her plea would see through that she truly didn't mean to bring harm to the baby. She just couldn't take care of it, she couldn't. It wasn't consensual, she was scared.

But she put in her faith to do right. And when the opportunity presented itself to her, she couldn't help but use the mother instincts she never got to use.

Resolute in her mission, she retraced her steps, her pace steady despite the weight of the infant in her arms. Behind the convent's heavy oak doors, warmth and light awaited, along with the gentle hands of the sisters who would join her in caring for this unexpected gift—a new life, entrusted to their unwavering devotion.

As she crossed the threshold into the safety of the convent, the storm outside seemed to quiet, as if the heavens themselves recognized the sanctity of the moment. Sister Marci held the baby close, feeling a profound sense of purpose wash over her—a nun walking down a rainy alleyway, discovering not just a child, but a testament to the boundless grace of compassion.

As she enters sanctuary and passes the numerous seats that face Mary, God, Jesus she looks down to the infant. It's wailing stopped right as she stopped her tracks in front of the podium. She smiles gracefully, giving a faint touch on the baby's nose. "You're a miracle young one."

After she had a moment with the infant she passed the podium not before praying. She then quickly made her way through the back where the orphanage connected to the church. It was quite a walk, a few mintues to be exact but that didn't deter Sister Marci.

Once she made it to the front doors to the orphanage, she used her backside to open the large doors as she held the baby with her hands. "Sisters! I seek your aid!" She yelled out to anyone, hoping some will be up at that time of night.

Indeed they were, most of them anyways. One in particular came sauntering with her hands holding the beads. Her eyes remained closed as she quietly prayed. "Sister Marci, if it's to clean the toiletries, I've told you-" The wailing of the baby stopped the nun in her walk. As she opened her eyes, she spoke loudly. "Jesus Christ-"

Even in hectic situations, Sister Marci always thought methodical about her words. "Sister Agnes!" She said faintly. She rocked the baby in her chest and she talked. "Not in vain."

"Apologies," Sister Agnes quickly retorted back. She rushes to Marci and gently touch the baby's skin. Ice cold. "It's just- who would do such a thing to a baby? God's children?"

"I don't know," Marci said, her mind wondered off. She felt pure anger for at thought of who do such a thing but reminder herself she shouldn't feel that way. Nature will take its course. God will punish those condemned to such atrocity. "God will punish the one responsible of the sin. I have faith." Marci said as she looked down to the baby.

"As do I Sister." Agnes said softly. She frowned at the situation and gently maneuvered her hand behind Marci. Walking them down a dimly lit hall. "Come. Let us give the child, care. Then we shall see who it belongs to..."

Marci hushes the baby as she cradled it beside her neck. With a quiet voice, she whispered, her voice sending a soothing rhythm to the baby's ears. "I'll call you Michael..."

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Maybe it was mother's long lost instincts or just genuine concern for the child but her sleep was abrupt as she stirred awake at four in the morning. After tending to the baby, she entrusted the presence of the other nuns that the baby will be safe beside them as they slept.

It's not what she heard that concerned her during the middle of the night, it's what she didn't heard... the baby breathing or lack thereof.

Her bed was the second one away from the only window then encapsulated the entire room. The moon shined bright in the dark room. She didn't mind anything behind her when she saw the baby was no long present in the crib she placed beside her bed. Her eyes whisked back and forth around her, looking back at the crib as if the baby will somehow be back a safe environment.

"Sister Agnes?" She whispered with haste as she shook Agnes shoulder lightly. Sister Agnes bed was on the other side of the baby's crib.

Agnes mumbles in her sleep as she turns away from Marci. "Im resting."

Marci groans and shook her once more, with far more intent. "The baby is missing... Agnes!" She faintly yells.

The panicked voice in Marci awakened Agnes if not most of the others in deep sleep. She quickly sat up straight. "Are- are you sure?"

Marci huffs and removed Agnes blanket off her."Yes I'm sure. There is no baby in the crib."

"Oh my-" Agnes bit her lip before her next choice of words came. Even looking at the empty crib gave her more proof than she needs. She quickly got up and scurried to turn on the light. "Sisters! Wake up! The baby is missing!"

Everyone jumped in their sleep and quickly got up, searching every corner of their large room. How the baby would get out of the crib, puzzled Marci. How?

As everyone searched everywhere, a voice called out to her specifically. In the stillness of the night, a deep, ominous voice reverberated through the darkness, just beyond the door of their room. It's resonance carrying an eerie weight that seemed to pierce the soul. It called out to her, with words, a primal force that stirred unease in the deepest recesses of her mind. It beckoned, a seductive whisper laced with promises of power and forbidden knowledge, echoing through the corridors of her consciousness like a malevolent shadow searching for a crack to enter.

"Marci..."

It's deep voice echoed throughout the building, shocking everyone awake. Everyone's eyes turned to Marci, scares. Quickly as if in formation, each nun had their beads ready.

"Sister Marci? What was that?" A nun asked nearby.

Marci eyes remained widened, unable to speak out her worry. "I- I'm unsure."

"Marci..." It called out again, this time with more force. The reverberated voice shook the handles of anything loose. The nuns gasped in fear as no one stalked to the door.

"It called your name...why?" She heard Agnes comment beside her.

"That's what I'm unsure about." Marci responded. Holding her heads even closer to her chest.

No one took a step to see what it was. So Marci decided to overcome her fear and preserve against the evil spirit of it even was. Even so, it's voice carried such intent, she had to be prepared for anything.

The nuns followed right behind her, whispered to each other about what it could be. She hovers her trembling hand over the handle, waiting for the inevitable. After a few seconds, she quickly twisted the  knob and swung the door opened.

...nothing was there. The voice sounded as if it was directly behind the door. She ventured out the door and found herself in the dark hallway. The only light visible is the ends of the long hallway. The light from the window shined their door. As she looks down her left she saw nothing out of the ordinary. But as she turned in the other direction, she heard indescribable noise. Crunching like sounds, echoed the hall as she finally looked down the other end of the hallway. Under the dimly lit light at the end of the hallway, stood a creature no taller than a foot. Covered in blood, a nuns body laid beside it. Covered in blood as well with no head present. Marci gasped, she covered her mouth as did the other nuns.

She quickly heard them praying.

The creature turned to Marci, and as if it finally saw Marci the tar like skin started to go away into the skin beneath it. And when it finally disappeared, Michael was there. The baby on it's two feet suddenly fell to the floor, crying hysterically.

All the nuns recognized the baby and stepped away from Marci as they looked at her with wide shot eyes. "You brought that abomination under the house of god!?" She heard Agnes yell with vexation.

"I didn't know, I didn't know." Yet despite not knowing what the baby was harboring, she still wanted to take care of Michael. She needed Michael as much as he needed love and affection. The creature from before didn't bother more like it made her interested in Michael even more.

"Leave it outside, away from here! This is unruly Sister Marci!" Agnes said, as she held Marci's forearm roughly.

"It's just a child." She said, her voice laced with concern.

Agnes scoffs and lets go of Marci. Pacing around Marci. "A child? A child! That is not a child. That is the presence of the devil. Get it out of here!"

"No, Sister Agnes." Marci said with ridicule. She made her way to the baby and cradled it in her hands, Michael quickly snuggled in her embrace. "See?" Marci tried to say with reassurance. "See? It's just Michael." She turned him to the nuns.

Agnes points a hand to the baby in Marci's hands, her fingers trembling harshly. "That is not Michael. That's- that's Cain. An abomination of God's creation!"

Marci gets annoyed at Agnes words and spat her next words to her. "What do you want me to do with him exactly Agnes? I can't just throw him out, it's sin." She then started to walk to Agnes and the nuns, to which the other nuns quickly rushed into the room and locked the door. Leaving Agnes alone.

Agnes gulps and backs away, looked unsure of what to do next. "Just- just put it in the basement. We no longer use it. Please- get that abomination out of here. I must pray." She then roughly pushed Marci against her shoulder and she left the hallway. Rushing to another set of doors.

Marci smiled at Michael despite what had just occurred. She hushes him as she walked towards the basement. "Unfortunately we must now reside in the basement Michael." She gulped, uncertain if she should mention the creature even though Michael will not understand. "But don't worry," She said as she makes it to the basement door and pushed her way through.

"I'll be with you every step of the way..."

THANK YOU FOR READING!

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