Dungeon nun

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"What the holy fuck are you doing here?"

The gruff voice rose unexpectedly behind the nun from the shadows of the candle-lit room, and Sister Mary Celeste stiffened at the sound. No one else was supposed to be at the old Marsten Mansion, Father Flannigan had assured her of that, so the demanding voice caught her completely by surprise. Slowly, she turned, her head pivoting in fear as the stiff cloth of her long traditional black habit rustled in the silent clinging air.

"It's a Goddamn nun!" the rasping male voice exclaimed. "What's a fucking nun doing in a place like this?"

At the moment, Sister Mary Celeste was wondering the same thing. Evil seemed to hang over the entire place like a dark shroud, and she would have never set foot inside the dank stone walls if her duty to her faith hadn't led her there at the instructions of the monsignor. Just the feel of the air where so much depraved sex and violence occurred in the past was enough to chill her beneath her habit and robe, and almost frighten droplets of piss into the coarse black cotton panties that she wore.

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