Chela Ekpu

MARIA POSA

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---*CHAPTER ONE Midnight cloaked the nunnery in silence, save for the quiet rustle of candle flames and the echo of hurried footsteps through the old stone corridor. Beneath the chapel, where no light ever reached and the air tasted of dust and prayer, a hidden chamber stirred. Sister Mary, pale and trembling, was lowered onto a bed of straw. Her swollen belly trembled with each wave of pain. She had hidden the pregnancy for nearly nine months, concealing her secret beneath robes and silence — but the time had come. Nun Lucia, stern and weathered by years of burden, stood at her side. Gabrielle and Ruth, both barely out of their teens, hovered in the corners — Gabrielle biting her lip in frustration, Ruth wringing her hands. "Fetch towels and water," Lucia barked. Ruth nodded, vanishing into the shadows. "This is madness," Gabrielle hissed, folding her arms. "We’re risking everything for a child no one even knows the father of." Lucia shot her a death glare, her voice a low growl. "Perhaps if your mouth served as well as your hands, you'd be useful tonight." Gabrielle’s lips snapped shut, wounded. Mary cried out, her voice echoing through the candle-lit chamber. Sweat drenched her brow as the child forced its way into the world. Straw rustled. Bones tensed. And then— A scream. A cry. A birth. Lucia lifted the newborn slowly. It was a girl. Pale. Bald. Thin. Eyes bright as blood. Unmoving yet powerful in presence — a child not kissed by heaven, but touched by something far older and darker. Mary opened her eyes just once more. Her fingers trembled as she reached for the child. “So beautiful,” she whispered with a faint smile, tears tracing down her cheeks. In truth, the baby was terrifying to behold. But to a mother... she was perfect. Mary exhaled. Her head leaned back slowly. The smile still faintly on her lips, her eyes now glassed and open. She was gone. In that instant, the room shifted. A gust of wind — sharp and unnatural — blew through the sealed chamber, snuffing out half the candles. The heavy iron cross nailed above the bed twisted. Screeched. And then— *Snapped upside down.* It blackened into ash, falling over Mary’s lifeless body. The wind whispered, faint but clear — “Maria Posa…” The chamber fell silent. Lucia crossed herself quickly, face pale but stern.

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