For Lack Of A Better Tittle: NUNS!

Carmel Gray had never been a normal kid. Not really; ever since she was a child she expected that she would grow up and become a nun. She just knew it would happen. After her parents dies, she knew for certain. Without them, she had nowhere else to turn. Besides that, her father's last gift to her had been a lovely old rosary. Even he wanted her to become a nun.

Due to the circumstances in which her parents died, Carmel had always thought there might be supernatural things about. However, she had never expected it to happen in the convent. She felt a sense of deja vu as she heard about the suspicious deaths. Nuns, committing suicide left and right. Hanged. Every time.

She had heard rumors that someone was going to come investigate; she prayed they would have the answer.

The very next morning, a well-dressed man in a dark suit burst through the front doors. His honey blond hair was hastily slicked back, and he wore a pair of sunglasses; as he was not a douche, he removed them shortly.

Walking down the hall with brisk steps, he waited to be greeted in the main room. It was awfully quiet, but he didn't mind; holy places were always quiet, for some reason. He patted the rosary hidden under his clothes, making the sign of the cross out of respect.

Carmela had been waiting all night for the man to arrive. She had waited on a pew in the area for prayer, and eventually she had dozed off. However, when she heard footsteps that were unfamiliar, she jumped up and headed to see.

She began to run before she remembered that she wasn't supposed to. She slowed down to a jog, instead, nearly forgetting to stop when she spotted the man.

"Hello!" She greeted, completely forgetting her manners. "Are oyu the man who is here to help?"

He nodded, smiling brightly; for a convent, it seemed the women here were lovely.

"Yes, yes I am. Call me Priestly." He bowed his head chivalrously, extending a hand.

She didn't touch him. In fact, she looked disgusted.

"Priestly?" She asked, placing her hands on her hips. "Get out of here, you're just another one of those creeps with a fetish!"

"...Another creep?" he asked, confused. "Sister, this is the first time I've ever been here--I came here to help with your evident supernatural problem. My title is Father Priestly, if that helps to put your mind at rest. I was merely hoping we could become friendly." He laughed, a little embarrassed. "Perhaps I was too forward."

"Friendly?" She wrinkled her nose, looking even more disgusted. "I can't believe you, you're disgusting!"

She paused, suddenly.

"...Wait, how did you know about the supernatural problem?" She asked, frowning. "...Are you really a priest?"

He nodded, frowning.

"Why, yes. I am here to do the Lord's work and exorcise the creature--I'm sorry, friendship is disgusting? I didn't mean to offend. Perhaps it implies something odd in these parts?"

Carmel felt stupid, and her face turned extremely red.

"O-oh, no I just..." She shook her head rapidly. "Nothing, it's just, sometimes we get...a certain type of visitor around here, it's...anyway, my name is Carmel! You can just call me Sister Gray, though..."

She coughed.

"...I'm glad you're here."

He smiled again, albeit more awkwardly.

"...Glad to be here, Carmel. Will you show me where the disturbances have been occurring? I'd like to start my work as soon as possible."

She nodded, trying to pretend she hadn't made such a stupid blunder.

"Yes, well, it's not one specific place at all." She replied, leading him down the hallway. "It's usually in the section where we all sleep, though. There are a few wings, though mostly it's been in D-Wing. I'll show you. It's...well, I suppose it's not as nasty as it could be." She tried to smile, but she looked nervous. "Being hanged isn't the worst death."

He nodded, grimacing.

"You know, I've seen my fair share of death...but for some reason it never gets less horrible, you know? No numbing, just a sense of the pain being caused. Though I'd hope you haven't experienced much death in your life."

She smiled at him weakly.

"More than my fair share, I think. It was a long time ago, though; I've accepted it."

He kissed her hand.

"I understand. Say no more, Sister."

She withdrew her hand, using it to smack his cheek the next second.

"How dare you!" She exclaimed, appalled. "Keep your hands off of me!"

He looked at her, surprised.

"...That's not polite in these parts, Sister?"

She crossed his arms over his rather impressive chest.

"Of course it isn't! I'm a child of the Lord, devoted wholly to him; you shouldn't touch me!"

He laughed, nodding.

"Ah, yes, you're right. I guess I forgot--I'm not used to seeing Sisters as young and lovely as you."

She glared at him, but she blushed anyway.

"Stop your lying; I may be young, but with this scar across my face, no one could ever find my attractive." She held up her finger to silence him before he spoke. "Don't you dare even say a thing about it, either; I know it's true."

He laughed.

"Really? I've always liked scars. They show where a person has been, you know?"

She just shrugged, shaking her head.

"They're not pleasant; everyone used to stare at me. That's why I like it here." She smiled. "Anyway, here's D-Wing. Rooms 140, 146 and 149 are locked now, because of what happened. No one will go near them. A few of the sisters decided to sleep elsewhere."

"If I stare, I promise it's only because I'm captivated by your beauty," he said with a smile. "In any case, was there any connection between the victims that you know of? Or the rooms?"

She ignored that remark, rolling her pretty green eyes.

"No, I can't find a connection. I didn't know either of the three Sisters well at all; they were fairly old and well learned, and they didn't like to talk to me as much as they did others. This wing is mainly for the eldest Sisters."

"Really?" he asked. "How interesting. Any previous suicides, accidents, supernatural occurrences of any sort?" He examined the walls, knocking on one lightly. "This place is old, right?"

"Very old. In case you haven't noticed, the uniforms we wear, as well as our practices, are nearly ancient." She said, watching him with interest. "You know, when you stop whatever it is that's doing this, we should talk."