Page 58 of Prayer of the Damned
“There are those who don’t find it at all ridiculous. They treat this sin seriously. Some religions traditionally circumcise women. Thus they completely deprive women of sexual pleasure.”
I’m horrified. “That’s monstrous!”
“Some take it a step further and abstain from sex entirely, believing that celibacy is the answer.”
“They believe procreation can happen without sexuality?” I ask in disbelief. My mind can’t figure out the logic in the religions of God’s people. It doesn’t sound holy to me. It doesn’t sound human. So many religions birth monstrous ways to torment women, and humanity in general. Is it God’s wish, to torture his own creations?
Mr. Fleming points to the image of Mary. “God impregnated a virgin. They absolutely believe it.”
“And what do you believe?” I dare to ask. The bell rings out, echoing in the hallways before Mr. Fleming can answer my question.
“Good work today,” Mr. Fleming declares. “See you next class!” He leaves the room without looking at me or answering my question.
At the locker room I switch into my gym outfit, feeling the curious eyes of demonesses fixed on my back. This time my body fills out the shorts and T-shirt, and I desperately need a more supportive sports bra.
We move as one cluster into the gym, connecting to the group of boy demons. The sounds of the excited crowd are a bad sign for me. I don’t have fond memories of my last classes with Ms. Kingsley, and I have no doubt that I’m behind on self-defense classes, since the other demons had the whole summer to train and specialize in the new skills she taught.
I stand to one side, apart from the thrilled cluster, lowering my gaze as Ms. Kingsley enters the room and leaps into the boxing ring.
“Good afternoon, kids,” she greets them, clapping to draw the class’s attention to her. I evade her look as she scans thosepresent, already well-versed in the procedure. “Split into pairs for the next task. Miss Fermi, you’re with me.”Here we go again…I climb into the ring reluctantly, not looking at the rest of the class eager to get more of the action. “Don’t worry, Miss Fermi, I have no choice but to go easy on you,” she says to me, drawing the attention of the class again. “Over the summer we learned many methods of defense that will aid you if and when you find yourself facing the army of our enemy. Starting today, we’ll combine those skills with battle tactics. After the demonstration, I want one of each pair to implement the moves we’ll learn today while the other applies the defensive moves we learned over the summer. Then you’ll switch. Remember, you’re graded during training as well, so don’t lose your focus, not even for a moment!” She claps, and I jump in place, tense like a cat before a fight.
“The first move is a triple kick. Choose your strong leg, the one you’ll use to kick your enemy. Aim your first kick to the enemy’s stomach, the second to their groin, and when the enemy falls aim another last kick directly to their face. Like this.” Ms. Kingsley demonstrates it on me so slowly and gently that I can finally calm down. This time the devil was true to her word. “Defenders,” she points to me, “I want you to lift your arms and try to block every kick. Use your hands, punch your palms to toughen up your muscles. Note that from now on you’ll also be doing strength training. Your muscles are the natural padding for your body. Strong muscles protect your bones. And the Devil demands shields of steel for his army, not pillows!” Laughter rings out among the class, but Ms. Kingsley’s petrifying gaze silences them at once. “This isn’t a game. When you find yourself across from the enemy, they’ll wipe your stupid smiles off your faces! Let’s get to work!” she calls.
“We’ll start slow, then we’ll take it up a notch,” Ms. Kingsley instructs me. “The Dean may have warned us about hurting you,but if I want to prepare you for battle properly, even you will have to get your hands dirty during training, Miss Fermi.”
“I’m ready.” I stiffen my resolve and stand in the ready stance.
She sends out three slow kicks, and I manage to block each one.
“Faster!” Ms. Kingsley doesn’t give me a moment to take pride in myself. She launches three faster kicks and I manage to block them again. “Again!” she yells. These aren’t the kicks she demonstrated earlier anymore; she’s bombarding me with strong, swift, merciless kicks. I block each one, my body reacting instinctively to every move she makes. Then she tries to punch me, and I duck and evade her. “More!” she calls out, and fury overwhelms her. Kicks, punches, scratches, all means are legitimate to her. She tries again and again, and I evade every attempt.
When she finally slows down, bracing herself on her knees to regain her strength, I use her moment of weakness to hit her in the face with a swift, strong kick. The whole class stops their training at once.
“Belle!” Valentina calls out, but I ignore her.
I kneel over Ms. Kingsley, lying powerlessly after her body collapsed from the force of the blow, and I say: “That’s for the start of summer, bitch.”
She groans and can barely turn her gaze towards me.
I jump over the ropes and land perfectly in front of the stunned class. As I leave the gym, the cluster of classmates part like the Red Sea to clear my way.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Bellcolor
Simon comes to ‘pick me up’ for dinner with Libretto at 8. I’m wearing a simple black evening dress and flats, not even bothering to brush my hair or put on makeup. I don’t want him to get the wrong idea about tonight. I’m only agreeing to meet him out of courtesy, and if I’d have refused he wouldn’t have liked that. I have no desire to incur his wrath.
Simon leads me to a luxurious lounge, opens the double doors for me and vanishes.
Libretto’s standing by a fireplace, the flames within raging wildly. He turns to me and smiles in a way that charges the room with an unpleasant atmosphere.
“Libretto,” I say, sitting at the prepared table with its two wine glasses and a jug full of thick crimson liquid.
“Have your memories returned?” he asks without any preliminaries.
“No.” His attempts to pressure me are so annoying. My gaze locks on the flames scorching the wooden logs. Their color is mesmerizing.
“In that case, I’ve prepared a special meal for you today.” He steps back from the fireplace and pours the liquid into my wine glass. He holds it out to me, and I bring it to my mouth. My eyes almost pop out of their sockets when the liquid reaches my nose. Its scent is strong and thick. “Drink!” he commands.
