Bloody Mary On A Cross - SCP Foundation

Bloody Mary On A Cross

Byㅤ basirskipreader

Published on 03 Aug 2023 03:25

This Tale contains alcoholism, a queer slur, and light transphobia.

An indulgence is the remission before God of temporal punishment for sins whose guilt is already forgiven, which a properly disposed member of the Christian faithful gains under certain and defined conditions by the assistance of the Church which as minister of redemption dispenses and applies authoritatively the treasury of the satisfactions of Christ and the saints.

— Canon 992, Code of Canon Law.

Sa isang araw, habang tanghalian, na may dala-dalang Tsingtao at Camel si Ridar at mga Durex, small, at 9mm na magazine si Isabella:

"Sis, kailan ka titigil sa pagsisgarilyo?", sabi ni Ridar.

"Sinusubukan ko, marms, pero di ko talaga mapigilan eh", sabi ni Isabella

"Sa isang araw kukunin ka na ni Diyos, sigurado ako diyan."

"Ay sana nga, makuha ako ni Diyos. Sa tingin mo ba magiging santo ako ng mga bakla pag namatay ako?"

"Baka nga maging santo ka pa ng mga naninigarilyo eh."

Wearing the nun habit on her head, the priestly robes on her body, chain-smoker extraordinaire Isabella Luna Claire sits cross-legged in the confession booth, listening to the various poors in the Site confess to the various crimes they have committed. Her angular figure imposes dominance over this booth — inside this room, she is judge, jury, jailor, and executress.

She smokes another stick of cigarette as the smell of tobacco and incense waft and smother the sinner in front of her, kneeling and blankly staring on the floor.

"Sister, nagkasala po ako ", the sinner morosely speaks.

"Yes, and what is your crime, my daughter? All your secrets are safe with me."

"I stole some reality anchors for one of my friends."

"And where are these reality anchors now?"

"Sa friend ko po."

"Do you know where this friend of yours is?"

"I don't know if I can say it po."

"Are you not trusting of me? We're both women, we can keep a secret."

"Sige po, nakita ko po siya sa isang warehouse sa may BGC."

"Thank you for telling your crime to me, daughter. This is a very severe crime, you know that?"

"Yes po."

"I think as punishment, you need to do 10 hours of community service. Kailangan mo din ng 20 Hail Mary's."

"Thank you po miss."

"May God be with you. All of your sins are forgiven."

They know all their crimes will be reported to the Ethics Committee. They know they will get probation over the crimes they have committed. They know that the moment that they step in the booth with Maria Clara their fate has been sealed.

Another person enters the booth.

"Hello, Isabella Santa Maria I nagkasala po," a California valley girl remarks.

"Hesus Kristong tangina mo bat ka nandito."

A puff of smoke wafted over the confessor's face.

"You should stop smoking."

"What are you doing here Ridar."

"Just visiting my favourite nun, err sister."

"May manananggal kang patutulugan dapat diba?"

"Well… uhhhh…", Ridar stutters, rubbing his pointer fingers together while trying to appear cute and sorry to Isabella.

She takes a long drag off her single stick, then blows out a puff of smoke with a little sigh appended to the cloud.

"Okay, who did you sleep with again — the tikbalang or the sirena."

"The other other one."

"Your ex? Really?"

"Which one?"

Ridar gently smirks.

"Oh stop playing games with me — you know the one. How many times have I said to no-contact them already?"

"Come on, they offered free alcohol!"

"Ughh, that's even more of a red flag!"

"Granted it was a San Mig Light."

"You are unfixable."

"But he had chicharon, and the bed didn't creak thi—"

"Okay, okay, TMI, TMI. I still have confessions to take. What's your deal here?"

"Wanna go to a party a friend of mine is holding?"

"Why, exactly?", Isabella tilts her head, staring at Ridar.

"I'm not available that time, and you need to get out more. Nagmumuka kang aswang kada araw, alam mo yun?"

"When's the party?"

"Evening."

"Gago ka, edi mas lalo akong magmumukhang aswang."

"Hey, don't be that down on yourself," Ridar remarks. "You'll look like the White Lady instead."

"Unfixable."

"Same to you."

Ridar gets up.

"Yadda yadda, sins forgiven, you know the deal", she mumbles while waving her hand.

"Hey, have fun at the party, all right?", he also mumbles.

The dedication or blessing of any place is sufficiently proven by one witness who is above suspicion, provided that no harm is done to anyone.

— Canon 1209, Code of Canon Law.

Beep, beep beep.

"All right. Thank you po mamsir."

"Mhm."

Losing the priestly robes, yet retaining the habit, Ms. Isabella Luna Claire steps out of the metal detector, watching her bag pass through the X-ray detector. She picks up the bag, as the guard looks at her. At least she thinks he does.

Outside the Site, she looks around at the construction facade. Designed to ensure the place never gets taxed, it makes commuting to and from this place a bit of a hassle, since tricycle drivers look at you crazy if you ask them to drop you off at a construction site; she prefers to walk to a nearby jeepney terminal instead.

Exiting the facade, she starts walking. Thankfully, the sunset makes the streets still visible, although the prying eyes of the poors still glare at her.

One kid, with her friends, gossiping about the latest guy, slowly whispers among her friends after walking past her.

One teenager, with his basketball and friends, hoots and hollers after she kneels down to pick a flower.

One adult, with her husband and wife, moves her child closer after she stops for a bit.

After 3 minutes of brisk walking, Isabella reaches the nearest jeepney terminal. It is crowded, in a way that suggests order is still present, but a single person — or a single drop of rain — could shatter it.

"Mam…sir, dito po sakayan para sa LRT."

She mounts herself on the back of the jeepney.

A student from Ateneo looks at her and quickly pretends to sleep.

A… girl with makeup, pretty young but has that sharp look all people who live in BGC carry with them glances her and goes back to her phone.

Isabella wishes she travelled through Kabundukan instead.

The jeepney drops them off at Santolan. She was the first to get off, and the first to ride the elevator.

She opens her phone and clicks on the map app to check her location.

It is not the station she is supposed to be on.

She opens the phone app.

"Hello?"

"Yo? Where you at?" a familiar voice asks her.

"…where is your house ulit?"

"You motherfucker."

"I'm… very tired. Right now."

"It's around Baseco."

"Thanks."

She immediately closes the phone. The rumble of the train is heard.

Beep. beep. beep.

The metal detector drones on.

" Pakisuot po ang mask mamsir", the guard tells her.

She ignores the guard, and takes out her card.

A child stops crying when he sees her, choosing to glare at her instead.

Isabella wants the train to arrive now.

The law of abstinence binds those who have completed their fourteenth year. The law of fasting binds those who have attained their majority, until the beginning of their sixtieth year. Pastors of souls and parents are to ensure that even those who by reason of their age are not bound by the law of fasting and abstinence, are taught the true meaning of penance.

— Canon 1252, Code of Canon Law.

The first glass of cheap margarita isn't that bad. She hasn't been drinking that much anyway, and barring some weird ritualistic wine, this was her first real drink in a while. Ridar's friend's party is (as the kids say) lit as fuck, and there's a lot of people that she unexpectedly jives with in here. Sure, she barely knows anyone here and vice versa, but the general Spirits of Alcohol and Vice help keep them together.

The second glass of cheap margarita goes down easily. Sure, she has been consuming some chicharon alongside the margarita, and sure, she's just been running up and down the house talking to Ridar's various friends, but she promises, she was holding up fine. Frequent water breaks along with more margaritas also helps stave off the hangover, but damn, was she always this of a lightweight?

The third glass of whiskey might be a bit bad. Her friend is now infodumping on her about various shoe making techniques in relation to Ancient Greek practices of pederasty and she's sitting there looking at the hot guy beside them. Maybe she should shoot her shot? She's already a failure in some aspects, might as well crank up that loser score.

She doesn't make it through the third and a half glass of an unholy mix of whisky, margarita, and Coca-Cola. She's very close to puking. Ridar (when did he come in here?) recommends she sleeps in their room, while he sleeps in a guest room, but when she asks the people around if they've seen him, they all say no.

Four glasses of water doesn't make anything better. She's been puking all over the sink, looking at that failure of a tranny staring at her in the mirror — the jutted jaw, the attempted growing of the long hair that led to nowhere but an undercut, the weird brow that looks like someone tried to retrofit a sports car spoiler into an SUV. She can see her hands melt. Why is she even here. Her friend must hate her by now.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Five deep breaths of air help, if only marginally. She's stopped puking, but her throat is burning. Ridar's other friends has entered the room, definitely to sleep in it. She remembers the first times she crashed on Ridar's place after her first mission — she was cold, it was Ondoy, and this twink was somehow living alone here out in Baseco. She's thankful for his presence beside her right now, but goddamn are his friends noisy.

The sixth beam of sunlight finally wakes her up. It is 8'oclock in the morning. Only one of Ridar's friends remain in the room, while Ridar himself has apparently passed out, and is sleeping cozily in his room. She shambles down the stairs to the kitchen, where the leftover remnants of pulutan and breakfast is left on the table. She chooses to drink coffee instead. She forgets to don on her skin, and quickly goes up to pick up pieces of herself she left scattered around Ridar's house. Coming back to the room she temporarily permanently resides in, the person she is with has just finished showering. She gets into the shower and stares one last time at the woman in front of her. God, she's so good at doing this.

In the sacrament of penance the faithful who confess their sins to a legitimate minister, are sorry for them, and intend to reform themselves obtain from God through the absolution imparted by the same minister forgiveness for the sins they have committed after baptism and, at the same, time are reconciled with the Church which they have wounded by sinning.

— Canon 959, Code of Canon Law

The Manila noon sun burns the concrete street.

The jeepney speakers blare out the latest rap done by the poors, no doubt created while smoking tons of meth and weed.

The smokey dry throat catches the words of Isabella Luna Claire, as she sits in the confession booth contemplating her life choices.

The priest stares at her, waiting for her to formulate the words being repelled by her pounding hangover headache.

"Forgive me father, for I have sinned," she remarks.

"What is your sin, so that I may forgive it", the priest says.

"I have been engaging in alcoholism despite being a recovered alcoholic. I have also been smoking despite being a chronic smoker."

"These are sins that must be atoned for, daughter. As punishment for thy sins, I shall request of thee to partake in the sacrament as well as contribute to the community."

"I accept your punishment, Father."

"Now go, and may God be with thee."

She steps out of the booth. A fat woman with her no doubt third baby exits alongside her.

She declines the nearby offering for the sacrament, and walks out of Quiapo Church.

A few more steps, and into a waiting area for a jeepney she stands.

She pulls out another stick of cigarette and starts trying to light it up.

A student from DLSU covers their noses, and fans the front of their face.

The jeepney arrives.

"Sakayan papunta Quirino LRT?" she inquires.

"Opo."

She manages to get into the jeepney.

It's crowded, but enough space is there to light a cigarette.

A stick of cigar before work, a stick of cigar to ease the hangover, and a stick of cigar to puff all your worries away.