There were only two telephones in Saint Anne's Convent.
One was in the Headmistress Eloise's private chamber, and the other was in Sister Eloise's records room.
Night had fallen deeply. The convent, perched high in the mountains, was utterly silent. Marcia hid between the hanging corridor's floorboards and the rocky slope beneath, pressing her hands tightly over her mouth, desperate not to make a sound.
She had cried so hard that her eyes now burned. Above her, the demon's slow, dragging footsteps echoed as it passed overhead, then faded away around the far corner.
The dormitory where the children slept was about fifteen minutes away, while Eloise's records room was ten minutes in the opposite direction.
Between warning the others and calling for help, she could only choose one.
Marcia didn't hesitate long — most of the children at the convent left once they turned fourteen to find work in the outside world, so there weren't many capable of keeping calm in a crisis. If she went to wake everyone now, panic would only make things worse.
That left one choice — call for help. Contact the Chelation Hunters.
She and Jamie had often gone into Sister Eloise's records room before. Jamie, now fourteen, was the oldest child in the convent. Whenever a newcomer arrived, Sister Eloise would have him organize and record their files. Later, Marcia was chosen to help there too, and that was how the two became close.
Over the years, Marcia had learned there were at least three paths leading to Eloise's records room — the fastest one could get her there in under ten minutes. Maybe seven, if she ran.
No.
Wait… no.
Headmistress Eloise knew that too.
Was she waiting there right now?
A chill ran through Marcia's stomach. Tears spilled silently from her eyes. In the dead of night, she crawled out from the shadows. Pale blue moonlight washed over her trembling figure as she hunched her back and stepped shakily onto the ground.
The horrifying scenes from before flashed again and again in her mind, pushing her fragile sanity to the edge. She could feel every inch of her skin screaming — yet her legs still carried her forward, back toward the Headmistress's chamber, the very place she had just escaped.
Terror surged through her like a tsunami. Under the crushing weight of it, any small threat could shatter her courage. She ran as though on a thin wire stretched high above an abyss — unable to stop, unable to look back — as if by running fast enough, fear itself might not catch her.
The chamber door was slightly ajar. Time was too precious for hesitation. Gritting her teeth, Marcia slipped inside.
If the monster was waiting behind the door, then she would follow Sister Eloise's fate.
If Sister Eloise was watching from heaven, then death was nothing to fear.
The door creaked softly as it opened.
Beyond it was silence — a silence so complete it almost comforted her.
The candle beside the Headmistress's bed was still burning quietly. On the floor lay the bloody bodies of Sister Eloise and Fleur. A wave of heat surged through Marcia's limbs. She cast one guilty glance at the Sister, then ran to the desk and pulled the receiver of the old telephone from its cradle.
No need for an area code — just dial 1 and 7. But her hands were shaking uncontrollably. She kept fumbling, misdialing again and again, redialing in panic.
Just as the line finally connected, there was a heavy bang.
"You really dared to come back, Dakota… You've got guts…"
The chamber door slammed open. The chelated creature — knife in hand — stood there grinning wickedly.
Marcia's body went rigid in terror.
"Beep—"
A faint, static-filled tone came from the receiver.
Countless images flashed through Marcia's mind — all the beautiful, precious memories she had made over her four years at Saint Anne's Convent.
"Beep—"
She had grown up under the care of Sister Eloise and Headmistress Eloise. The two women had been like mothers to her, guiding her every step of the way.
Though their tempers were entirely different, there was one thing they shared —
When danger came, they would always place the children's lives far above their own.
"Beep—"
Marcia slowly set the receiver down on the desk beside her.
In that moment, her breathing suddenly became calm.
...Sister Eloise had gone first. Now, it was her turn.
"&%#@... Hello, this is the AHgAs Emergency Response Center. How may I help you?"
The creature's eyes sharpened instantly. With blinding speed, it lunged toward the old telephone. But Marcia reacted just as fast — she threw herself against it, colliding hard with the monstrous body. The black coiled phone cord stretched tight, the receiver swinging off the desk like a small pendulum.
Marcia screamed at the top of her lungs:
"Chelation creature found at Saint Anne's Convent, District 3, Tanyi City!!
"The infected host is— Headmistress Eloise—!"
Before she could finish, a sharp, unfamiliar pain pierced through her chest. The same dagger that had stabbed Sister Eloise now plunged straight into her heart.
The creature's lips curled into a silent, triumphant smile. It shoved Marcia's body aside and reached for the dangling receiver—
—but Marcia did not fall.
The knife was still lodged in her chest, her disheveled hair covering her face, yet her strength surged fiercer than before. Clutching the creature's arms with both hands, she held it in place, refusing to let go.
"District 3… Tanyi City… Saint Anne's Convent… Chelation creature confirmed…
"There are still… over twenty… children here…
"Please… hurry…"
…
…
It felt like a long dream. Marcia could feel pain —
first sharp and unbearable, then gentle, peaceful warmth.
A wave of heat engulfed her, as if flames were roaring all around. Within the blaze, she saw a young face smiling at her.
The world around her shifted — now loud, now silent. Sometimes she heard faint voices speaking, but they sounded far away, muffled as though underwater.
She drifted from one dream to another, searching for the person she had first seen, yet in the endless darkness she wandered like a lost soul — never finding, never resting.
In one dream, she fell headfirst into a bright, sunny afternoon.
It wasn't Shortcall Alley — it was Saint Anne's Convent again.
She stood once more before Headmistress Eloise's chamber door.
Looking down, she saw herself barefoot, dressed in a plain white cotton dress, holding a stack of newspapers in her arms.
A warm, familiar tenderness filled her chest. Forgetting everything, she rose on her toes and knocked softly.
Headmistress Eloise's voice came from inside, "Who is it?"
"Good afternoon, Headmistress," she said sweetly. "Miss Eloise asked me to bring you the newspaper."
The sound of drawers opening and closing came from behind the door.
"Come in."
Marcia pushed the door open.
The room smelled faintly of pinewood — a scent that always lingered there, so unlike the rotting odor she used to smell back in Shortcall Alley. The fragrance came from the bookcases that lined the north wall of the room. To protect the books from insects, Headmistress Eloise hung small bundles of aromatic wood on the shelves.
Marcia handed over the newspaper with both hands, and the Headmistress received it gently with both of hers.
The girl glanced at the desk — on it sat an open notebook, a fountain pen with its cap off, but no open book. Then she understood. Turning to glance at the doorway, she smiled and stepped closer to the old woman.
"You're reading one of those books you don't want Sister Eloise to find, aren't you?"
Headmistress Eloise laughed softly — a tacit admission.
Marcia climbed onto her lap, "Can I read it too?"
"Well," the woman sighed, "since you've caught me…"
She pulled open the nearest drawer, took out a hidden book, and placed it gently on the table. Then she lifted Marcia onto her knees.
"Do you recognize these words?" Eloise asked.
Marcia squinted at the title, struggling to sound it out:
"From the Wilderness... A journal... by an anthropologist…?"
(End of Chapter)