She nearly missed the door entirely, memories were tainted by her childhood self’s diminutive size. What once took her one-hundred paces to reach, now required forty. Ivy had grown over this part of the wall, which worked well for keeping secrets from the past hidden.

Clara reached through the Ivy and snapped off an old sign. While badly corroded, the sign read: Condemned. No trespassing.

A smile crept over those soft lips. She confirmed that there was no one nearby and reached through the Ivy once more. This time Clara grabbed an iron handle and pulled. The door did not budge; the hinges seized from years of corrosion. However, with some persuasion, the handle tore off entirely, leaving a void in its place.

“Well, that’s progress,” Clara grumbled.

“Gather around everyone,” the tour guide said.

Clara had reached the wall by that point, and the guide’s words were whispers carried on by the wind. She followed the stone barrier until; she came across an ivy covered door. Unlike the gate that led in and out of the convent, this one was no taller than she was. She remembered that it had been fashioned with thick oak and reinforced with iron rivets. 

She nearly missed the door entirely, memories were tainted by her childhood self’s diminutive size. What once took her one-hundred paces to reach, now required forty. Ivy had grown over this part of the wall, which worked well for keeping secrets from the past hidden.

She shouldered the bag and walked off. There were a few stragglers in the courtyard, most indulging in a cigarette along with witty banter related to a show that played on television last night. As expected, Clara walked by them without notice. 

That earlier encounter with the moustached man had been a lesson. It surprised her how much she missed turning heads as she walked by. They weaponized my sexuality for the good of the order. Now I need to get over myself and embrace the freedom I get from obscurity.

That much was necessary after videos of her street brawl with a werewolf went viral. While she did not know how widely they had been distributed, she did pick up the nickname ‘the Valkyrie.’ That was also the reason why the constabulary were on the lookout for her. Wasn’t there some mention of me being on the most wanted list…

The property was purchased by a local farmer and later converted into a vineyard…

While that happened eventually, to her knowledge the school operated well into the thirties. This discrepancy confirmed that the effects of the hiccup were far more extensive than feared. Try finding a needle in a mountain of needles without getting a tetanus shot…

“You never know. You might get lucky like you did with us,” Silver taunted.

Clara had learned that it was best to avoid responding to the sisters. They often behaved like bullies, and giving them any indication that their vitriol worked would only encourage them. The sisters sure as fuck try my patience at times.

There came a loud release of air as the bus came to a complete stop. The main tour would soon begin, and passengers were lined up in the isle to leave. Clara remained seated, pretending to be engrossed by whatever was posted on her Twitcher timeline.

We have arrived. Bathrooms are available in the main building…

Girls sent here received an academic and religious education…

“They forgot to mention that the school was cloistered,” Clara whispered. “The only men permitted onto the property were the farmer who delivered supplies, and Father…”

Her eyes widened when that name did not roll off her tongue. This was the man who arranged for her to be educated here, which opened the door to the Tower. This was the hunter who was murdered before her eyes by a powerful vampire. That was the night that inadvertently set her on a path filled with deception, betrayal and death… I wouldn’t have it any other way.

The school was shuttered in 1910 after the gruesome murders of their priest and Mother Superior…

“Wait,” Clara whispered. “That never happened…”

The bus passed through a wrought-iron gate supported by a stone and mortar wall. A shiver ran down her spine as the memory of her doing the same as a child resurfaced. Even a tour bus, loaded with weary passengers looking to wet their palettes, was luxurious compared to a horse and cart the farmer used to shuttle supplies back and forth to the school.

Welcome to our first stop on our wine tasting tour…

Clara looked out of her window as the bus drove onto the paved courtyard. Other than her school being converted into a vineyard, this was her first clue that much had changed since she last haunted these halls.

Established in 1836 as a school for orphaned girls. To our left…

“Retrace the steps you took in life,” Eleanor told her a few months back. “You may find what you are looking for.”

That advice had been passed on by an angel of death who went by the name, Eleanor. The one who gave those pearls of wisdom after being urged to ‘confess her sins.’ Like most life-altering questions since they yielded more confusion than they answered.

Clara had been to six out of the seven continents on this big blue marble hurtling through space. That did not include the time she spent in the Kingdom of Heaven, or within that pocket of reality that contained the Tower. 

However, the latter two were, for the moment, closed off to her. Clara needed to find her way back to the Tower, serving as the unofficial name for an order of hunters. Clara had been a hunter in life, sworn to rid the world of the creatures of myth and legend who preyed on humanity. I wonder if they’d consider me, as a fallen angel, a threat?

Clara grinned upon hearing that her gift had been delivered. She hoped the backpack and its contents would give Julia everything she required to carve out her own path. Clara expected that the werewolf would surrender to the moon’s power tonight, but would hopefully reach back when she was ready. You never know, she might prove to be a valuable ally.

She clenched her jaw in annoyance. Hecate would not be silenced, forcing Clara to hear the various personas whispering from the depths of her mind. To shake the angel’s resolve, Ethereal interjected.

“In my day, werewolves were considered a disease,” Ethereal said in that distinctive voice that sucked all the joy from the room. “Remind you of anyone else we know?”

After he passed by, she double-tapped on the screen to return to the notification, but stopped. All her senses were heightened because there was  someone watching her. 

She caught a pair of bright blue eyes staring back at her. Clara smiled warmly, at the toddler with curly blond hair, seated next to his mother. The boy giggled with glee at having Clara’s attention, which caused his mother to stir from a deep sleep. Clara pressed her forefinger against her narrow lips and shushed him.

There was disappointment in those eyes, but it was fleeting. The child looked between his legs to find a tablet and was quickly distracted by a colourful cartoon. Kids appeared to be easily taken in by shiny baubles and simplistic tunes… speaking of which.

Clara sunk back in her seat, unlocked her phone, and tapped on the most recent notification. Since the phone number was new, the list of potential senders was sparse. Nice and simple.