The Girls of Virtue

[04-1] Real or Fake, a Vision into a Distorted World

The church appears out of the fog, black spires cutting through the white of the world. A sick, shivery feeling lodges itself in Beginning's stomach. The closer she and Cowardly walk towards the structure, the more the feeling grows, a chill closing in around her chest like the fog has sunk inside and seeped its way into her blood, around her bones.

Cowardly shakes harder and harder the more they walk. At some point, she gets a sharp little hand clenched around the edge of her skirt, tearing new gashes in the dusky fabric with every tremble.

Her eyes are flickering around, moving in different directions from each other, and Beginning takes the nervous gesture as a very bad sign.

A part of Beginning wishes she could turn around and run. The sliver of willpower that she's holding onto, though, digs its heels into the ground and refuses to budge. Despite how sick she's feeling, despite how she knows that there's no way this little trip will end in anything but misery, she keeps walking, focusing on the feeling of the stone beneath her feet, the chilled air filling her lungs. It's the only thing keeping her from running then and there.

Soon, too soon, Beginning stands at the doors of the church. Cowardly is still by her side, shaking so hard that Beginning thinks she can see it. The poor girl looks a bit like she's close to passing out.

"Hey, Cowardly," Beginning starts, giving her a little nudge. Cowardly jolts like she's been shocked, head whipping up to stare at Beginning.

"Yeah? D-Did, did I, uh, d-did I do something wrong?" Cowardly's voice is little more than a squeak, lip trembling dangerously with her words. Her hands, clenched tightly in her dress, tighten enough to poke holes.

"No, no, not at all. I'm--, well, if you want to leave, it's okay. I'll be okay. I know you're scared, so you can meet me after this is over, alright?"

Beginning smiles, trying to look more confident than she feels. She can't help but feel like Cowardly is depending on her like the weaker girl is already expecting so much. Beginning thinks that that might be dangerous, but more, that she should at least try to live up to Cowardly's hopes.

Cowardly nods once, sharply, swallowing heavily. She scurries away, fast enough that Beginning finds it safe to assume that she was just waiting for permission. Beginning is alone, then, in front of the awful, awful church. The carvings on the walls, monstrous faces and scenes of torture, of execution, stretch on for what feels like miles above her head. She's never wanted anything less than she wants to enter this building.

And yet, the doors creak open on their own, screeching against the stone. The inside of the church, at least what Beginning can see, is pitch black. She can't tell what's inside, if anything. If anyone.

But, Beginning reminds herself, she doesn't have a choice. She has to be brave. She has to hold herself together, and she has to survive.

Inside, the floor of the church is smooth, polished stone, so black that Beginning feels like she's stepped onto darkness itself. As soon as she's about six feet inside the church, the doors slide shut behind her, once again on their own, plunging her into total blackness. Even inside, the fog is thick, clogging her lungs with cold.

There are no sounds. The air is silent, heavy. The smell of incense, of smoke hangs in the air, a sharp, spicy smell that a dark little part of Beginning's mind supplies could easily be burning flesh. She shudders, hard.

Even with no light, Beginning quickly realizes that she has no choice but to keep walking. She heals, she reassures herself, even if she gets hurt, she'll heal. Taking one step after another into the blackness, feeling nothing but the fog in her lungs and the cool stone beneath her feet, Beginning walks, willingly plunging herself deeper into the church.