Sister Liz and the Werewolf

Note: When I introduced Sister Elizabeth in QB MURDERED CHEERLEADER MISSING I didn't realize I was creating such a useful character. Bitten by a vampire at the age of ten, she set out on a life- long mission of battling supernatural creatures. Sometimes her war continues, even after her death (LAIR OF THE CARTER BROTHERS) with the help of her childhood sweetheart, Lucius Carter (ELIZABETH'S VAMPIRE STORY and MAGE AND SPIRIT).

This is just a story, not a treatise on religion. It does not necessarily reflect the writer's personal views. Keep telling yourself "It's just a story."

The ancient pickup truck chugged down the dark River Road at forty miles an hour. In the cab Sister Elizabeth's prayer over the alternator had turned into a full conversation with herself.

"'Sez he, 'Sister, since you're leavin' us for yer new assignment in New Orleans, will you drive the old truck to the Ursaleenes instead o' takin' the train?' 'Sez I, 'O' course, Father!' Lord, strike me fer a fool if ah evah agree t' drive a vehicle w'out seein' the bloody thing first!"

Not only was the truck frustrating, it was poorly ventilated for the heat of the Louisiana night. Even with the windows down, her habit was soaked with sweat and she wanted to stop for the night. Alas, she was behind schedule: She was expected at the parish served by her dear friend James, better known as "Father Jimmy."

It was well past sunset when she rounded the curve and the white steeple of St. Expeditus Church came into view over the sugar cane. Then the white painted cypress wood and the whitewashed tombs of the cemetery seemed to glow in the moonlight. As Liz exerted herself against the stubborn steering wheel to coax the truck into the dirt parking lot her heart was refreshed to see the glowing porch light of the priest's quarters. The feeling didn't last long once she saw the note tacked to the door of the raised cottage.

Gears ground as she halted the truck and turned the ignition key to the "off" position. The motor sputtered as if it didn't want to go off, and then faded to silence. Elizabeth pushed the door open and began to peel herself off the leather and duct tape seat.

"Jimmy?" she called out. The only sound was a rustle of sugar cane in the hot breeze. Liz reached back into the cab and grabbed the tattered suitcase that held her worldly possessions then made her way up the steps onto the porch.

The note on the door was addressed to "Sister Liz" so she pulled it from the nail an opened it.

"Liz," it said, "I was called to attend a sick parishioner at the St James Hospital. If I'm not back by morning, Mrs. Donaldson will be here about eight to cook breakfast and wash your laundry for you. The pantry is full and you have the run of the house. Signed, Father Jimmy.

"P.S. The front bedroom is mine, but I won't mind if you use it: It has a great mattress for a sore back. Jim"

Liz crossed herself and prayed "God, please protect the family he ministers to this night. But on the othe' hand, Lord, thank you for a bathroom all to m'self!" She pushed the door open and went in: Jimmy never locked his doors.

The cottage was designed for the hot climate of Louisiana. High ceilings and open windows drew air from under the surrounding trees making it feel cooler than the night outside. It felt pleasant to Elizabeth as she looked around at the sparse furnishing of the priest's living room. She was very pleased to see the antique prayer bench that Lucius Carter had given Jim for his ordination. It was the most prominent piece of furniture in the room, under the east window so Jim could face Jerusalem as he knelt. "Good ol' Jimmy" she mumbled. "Still loves to pray like the prophet Daniel."

The cottage had no hall, typical of Creole homes so every room had two doors that opened into other rooms to promote ventilation. Liz had only to look about to locate the priest's bedroom, the guest room and bathroom. Still talking to herself she decided "'Wouldn't be proper t' use your room, Jim, but thanks for the offer. The guest room is fine."

She dropped the suitcase on the bed and pulled off her head cover. Shaking her short red curls loose she explored the ancient bathroom. Huge by any standard, it must have been converted from a bedroom at some point. The claw-foot antique bath tub with a tall vertical pipe and shower head was circled by a white shower curtain. A pull chain toilet and pedestal sink faced each other and an antique bachelor's chair, intended as a place for clothing to rest while the owner bathed, completed the furniture. Shelves held an array of colored towels.

Liz turned back to the bedroom and opened her suitcase to find her nightgown before she began removing her habit. "I'm alone," she thought, "and the bath is the room next to mine. Who cares if I undress in the bedroom?" So she pulled off the sweaty clothing and draped it over a chair to dry.

Stepping back into the bathroom she decided to bathe instead of shower and adjusted the curtain to the outside of the tub. She started the water, feeling its temperature with her left wrist, then grabbed a towel and face cloth from the shelf and climbed over the tall sides of the tub to ease her aching body into the warm water. She hummed pleasantly as she eased down so that only her head was above the water and let it soak her all over.

Eventually the water cooled. She completed washing herself and stood up. She pushed the curtain aside to step out and recoiled in shock: A naked man stood in the doorway grinning at her.

"Mother of God!" Liz screamed, bending at the waist and fumbling for a towel to try to cover herself. "Have y' no decency, sir? Ah'm a Bride o' Christ, fer cryin' out loud!"

"No, bitch!" the man snapped. "I like naked nuns. I find taking off their clothes myself BORING, so I watch them strip before I eat them!" His eyes flashed red and his voice became a growl.

As suddenly as she had been shocked, Elizabeth recovered her composure when she realized the man was a supernatural being. It made her angry.

The man now looked more animal than human, his forearms twisting into forelegs with sharp claws. His mouth showed fangs and his body was covered with hair. Elizabeth let go of the towel and held her left arm in front of her.

"SCUTUM FIDEI!" she shouted. The man-wolf stopped growling and stared at her with his glowing red eyes. Liz no longer showed any sign of fear. She was making no effort at all to run or cover her nakedness.

Liz stepped out of the tub and pointed at the creature's exposed belly with her right hand. "GLADIUM SPIRITUS QUOD EST VERBUM DEI!" she shouted, making a slashing gesture.

The beast man doubled over in pain, grasping his belly with both forelimbs. As he crumpled to the floor he reverted to his human form and rolled back into the living room.

Keeping her "shield" in front of her Elizabeth advanced on her enemy. "Cur!" she snapped, "name your master!"

"Du... Dupin!" the man whimpered.

"Go back and tell Dupin that the next time he sends a dog after me I'll CASTRATE the bitch!" She turned her right hand and clinched it into a fist, then made a jerking motion with it. The man let go of his belly, grabbed his testicles with both hands and screamed.

"Get out!" Liz ordered.

The werewolf stumbled to his feet, still holding his balls with both hands, and made for the door. He wasn't moving fast enough, so Liz stepped forward and planted her right foot firmly into his bare buttocks. He pitched forward, thrown off balance, and tumbled headlong out the door to the porch where he fell down the steps. Landing in a heap he stumbled to his feet again and tried to run, still bent and holding his crotch in agony. In a few second he crashed into the sugar cane and disappeared from Liz's sight.

Elizabeth slammed the door and turned. Leaning her bare back and hips against it she sank to the floor, drew her knees up and hugged them to her chest. She suddenly realized she was hyper ventilating and tried to control her breath.

It dawned on her that her command to the beast, while effective, was certainly inaccurate. "...Castrate the BITCH!" she chuckled out loud. "Some English teacher you are, Lizzy! Ya' can't castrate a BITCH! Bitches are FEMALE! They don't HAVE testicles!" She laughed out loud, but the laughter became sobbing.

Through her tears she noticed Jimmy's prayer bench and stood on her wobbly legs. She stumbled across the room and collapsed heavily on the padded kneeler. Putting her face down on the rail she clasped her hands over the back of her neck and wept like a child.

So totally did Liz give herself over to her emotion that she did not see the three glowing angels standing in the room behind her looking at her naked back. One turned to the tallest and asked "Well, Michael?"

"She will do nicely," Michael replied. "The legion will move in as soon as you get our remnant at St. Genesius to start praying."

"That will be tonight, sir."

"So soon?" the archangel puzzled.

"They will discover the leaking roof today... and there is no money in their budget to repair it. They will start praying tonight."

Michael grinned. "Brilliant! 'Good thing you're on OUR side." The first angel smiled back.

Michael turned to the smallest angel. "Any questions, Seven?"

"Yes, sir," said the newly created one. "I don't understand... why she weeps. Did she not defeat the enemy's beast?"

"Oh, Seven!" said Michael. "She weeps FOR that beast. In order to become a werewolf, a human must offer himself, body, mind and soul, to the Evil One. Elizabeth prays for his REDEMPTION."

Seven's eyes grew wide as he said "Oh!"

Without asking Michael's permission the first angel stepped toward the naked nun and placed his hand on her shoulder blade. Elizabeth continued to pray as the angels disappeared.