Werewolf

Chapter 2

The next morning, Klara opened her eyes and for a moment forgot where she was. Then she remembered her aunt’s cold greeting and how Gerone had reacted to seeing her poor state. Knowing she wouldn’t have much time to herself, Klara sat quietly in bed, looking out at the sky from her window. It felt nice to be able to let her mind wander, even just for a moment. The constant rain had finally ended and the bright sunshine was a warm welcome on Klara’s face. A gentle breeze blew the fluffy clouds at just the right pace that she could imagine shapes in them, just as she’d done as a child.

A loud knocking came to her door and Klara jumped.

“Come in…” she called. The door opened and her aunt stepped in, wearing a beautiful purple dress and her hair still pulled back tight. If the color wasn’t enough to demonstrate Gertrude’s wealth, the sheen and quality of the fabric surely did. The style she chose for her hair also showed her status with how perfect the braids were coiled on the sides of her head. Not one silver hair was out of place. She looked less harsh than the night before and said, “Gereon told me your feet are in a poor state. I brought a physician to help…” she stepped aside and a man with a crow-like mask on his face entered. He was dressed head to toe in black with a hat, cloak and long dark robes that made her think of the Reaper. He carried a few different satchels on his belt as well as a small cane with the symbol of medicine made of silver on top. He didn’t say a word as he approached, moving smoothly and quietly. Klara’s heart thumped heavily against her chest. She scooted away as he came near and Gertrude frowned heavily.

“What’s the matter with you?”

“Oh the poor dear probably hasn’t seen a physician before.” The doctor said softly, chuckling in amusement. “Don’t worry child, I am just here to wrap up your feet.” He dug into the black bag he had with him and brought out new gauze and an ointment. Klara stared at him as he applied the ointment and sighed as it soothed her instantly. Then he wrapped them up and Klara felt better already.

“Thank you.” Klara whispered, her eyes bright with wonder. Back home when something like this happened they had rags and sometimes soaps to help but they would sting and burn. The doctor’s eyes were bright behind his mask and he nodded before saying,

“You’re fortunate, child. Your feet should heal after a week of rest.”

“I’ll see to it.” Gertrude said. “Thank you doctor.” She pulled out three coins and dropped them into his outstretched hand before calling for a servant to take him to the door. She shut the door to Klara’s room and turned her cold stare at the young girl.

“Well I hope you’re happy, young lady.” Klara flinched and hunched her shoulders. “Your foolishness cost me a great deal of money. If you are to stay here you will learn to behave properly and not cause me any grief.”

Klara’s face burned red but she bit her tongue. She was too weary to argue and didn’t feel she had the right to.

“I’m sorry, Aunt Gertrude.” She muttered softly. Gertrude sighed in annoyance.

“It’s done. Now, do as the doctor said and rest. When your feet have healed we will begin your lessons immediately.” With that she left.

A week later, Klara was thrown into a whole new life of lessons in how to walk, talk and even think like a lady. It wasn’t until she’d lived through three days of lessons that Gertrude felt she was ready to leave the house for the first time, and even then it was for Mass. At first Klara was excited, but soon reconsidered.

Gertrude instructed two maids to tend to her niece. They were from lower class families and considered spinsters, despite looking relatively youthful. They didn’t say much, if anything, only nodding when given orders.

“You two need to make her look presentable, however you can.” Gertrude told them firmly. Klara felt herself whither a bit more. Clearly her aunt thought very little of her.

She wasn’t slim like her mother was, but the latest fashions required her to be. The maid wrapped linen around her waist tightly, making it hard to breathe.

“Tighter!” Gertrude ordered. The maid nodded and tugged as Klara gasped for breath.

Finally the dress came and the thick velvet weighed a ton. But the torture wasn’t over yet. The maid dragged her to the vanity and began tugging her dark hair into two tight braids, coiled them on either side of her head and set them with sharp pins that scraped her scalp. Last was the mantle, designed to show her purity and status. Klara flinched and bit her lip hard against the pain. No wonder her mother never made her go through this daily chore. It was absolute torture!

“Shoes.” Gertrude shouted and Klara flinched again. Simple shoes that were very comfortable were slipped onto and Klara was grateful that at least one thing was nice about this new wardrobe. Her aunt walked around her, measuring up every tiny flaw she had.

“Good enough.” Gertrude sighed. “Let’s go.” Klara nodded as her aunt led her down the stairs, an interesting journey itself since Klara wasn’t used to these clothes. When she finally got downstairs her aunt was already impatient and was tapping her foot.

“Mass will be over by the time we arrive.” Gertrude snipped angrily.

“Sorry.” Klara whispered. Gertrude huffed but didn’t say anything more. They walked outside into a warm and cloudless day and Klara’s happiness flooded back to her. Though she wasn’t sure she liked this town of Munster, she knew she loved the sun. The sky was just starting to turn blue and birds were chirping happily. People were making their way to the center of town where the church bell was starting to chime. Most of them were walking quietly, but as soon as Klara and Gertrude joined them, the whispers instantly started. People muttered about her mysterious past, how her family died in a fire but she somehow survived. They speculated she must be a witch, there was no other reason for it.

Klara felt her heart drop, having hoped that coming to a town hundreds of miles away would have given her a fresh start. She cursed herself for being foolish. Her thoughts were interrupted by the loud bells tolling from the Cathedral. Klara’s eyes widened in awe as she took in the gothic-like architecture. The tiled roofs were a bright and beautiful turquoise that completed the creamy stone siding. There were a few stained glass windows that caught the sunlight and shined like gemstones. Inside was just as breathtaking. The high vaulted ceilings were crisscrossed with intricate stone designs that turned into massive columns that supported the building. There was no need for candles here, as the large windows above allowed in ample amounts of sunlight.

During the service, she tried to follow along but it had been so long since she’d attended Church, she was completely lost. Gertrude glared at her when she stumbled over the hymns and again when she didn’t stand right away for the Holy Gospel.

The young woman was astounded by the repeated notion that everyone sins and will forever be a sinner. So if one lived a good life, were they still a sinner, destined to be sent to Hell if they didn’t attend this ceremony in a building called a Church? Klara didn’t like that the Bible was described to the masses by one person. Surely he couldn’t fully understand the word of God all on his own. He was still a sinning human, after all.

Klara had to bite her tongue to keep from scoffing at the Priest when he “blessed” the water and bread, offering them to God. They were doing the same thing that would condemn a witch, using spiritual properties on mundane objects. When it was time to receive Holy Communion, sure enough, it was still plain bread and wine. Klara’s final mistake was not uttering “Amen,” after the Priest recited, “The body of Christ.” She popped the small bite of bread into her mouth without hesitation and the look of distain on Gertrude’s face sent ice through her veins. The Priest whispered,

“Amen,”

“Amen,” Klara replied quickly. He smiled gently at her and continued on. Klara repeated the word after receiving the wine, hoping that was the right thing to do. They then walked back to their pew and prayed in silence.

When the service was finally over, Klara felt even more judging stares on her. She wanted to go to her room and hide for a good while.

When they returned to the house, Gertrude smacked her across the face, hard.

“Dummes, dummes Madchen!” Gertrude shouted as Klara, stunned, collapsed to the floor.

Author: Katie (Crios) Editor: Elizabeth (Eala)

Patreon: patreon.com/ealacrios