The Van Helsing Conjecture – Excerpt No. 190

T-h-a-t…

Her eyes went wide upon realising that someone was headed for the confessional. Like the dutiful good hunter he was, Father Michael was hunting with a partner… He’s the b(ait)—

B-e…

“Clara?” Julia called out.

The voice may as well have been a gunshot in the night. Her mind came alight, focusing on the source if somehow came from every direction. It may as well have been yelled down from Heaven by God…

M-y…

Her eyes shot open, and nothing changed other than her awareness of the situation. If she were the other hunter, she would barge as the Father was speaking to catch her prey unaware.

A cinematic, high-contrast photograph of a distressed woman sitting in a dimly lit, ornate confessional booth, grasping her chest with a mixture of fear and anxiety etched on her pale, heart-shaped face, her brown eyes wide with alarm as if a loud, jarring noise has awakened her from a state of introspection, her raven-black hair styled in an updo adorned with a few stray, curly tendrils framing her forehead, wearing a long, dark grey, high-neckline wool coat with a fitted, floor-sweeping skirt, and a crisp, white, lace-trimmed blouse with a high collar, all evocative of the conservative, practical styles of a 1915 Canadian coastal mining town, the scene illuminated by a faint, warm, golden light seeping through the wooden latticework of the confessional, casting deep, mysterious shadows on the walls behind her.

Disclaimer: This novel is an work in progress and readers may encounter grammatical errors and inconsistencies. Please view this a draft and not a published work.