The Lesbian Demon and the Nun
Chapter 1: The Meeting with the Demon
For nine years I’ve kept my body sealed.
No one’s hands but mine in those weak moments when I couldn’t sleep and my fingers slipped under the nightshift before guilt yanked them away. No mouth except the cold rim of the chalice at Communion. No real heat except the tiny flame of the candles I light and stare at until my eyes burn.
That night the seal broke.
Something pulled me out of my cell — soft, slow, like fingers dragging over silk or bare feet brushing stone. I told myself it was nothing. A sister getting water. A shutter in the wind. But it came again, clearer, from the chapel.
I should have stayed in bed. Instead I grabbed my rosary like it could save me, lit a candle stub, and went barefoot down the freezi
