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divine monstrosity

Chapter 3: Camila

I interrupt my string of shadow and bone posts with chapter 3 of my warrior nun fic that is definitely on time and not at all late.

also on ao3. (chapter 1.) (chapter 2) (chapter 4)

~~~

“your beauty never ever scared me.”

—mary on a cross, ghosts

It was three-thirty when she phased back into Cat’s Cradle.

Her bedroom was on the west end of the building, but she entered on the east side instead. She had no use for that room anymore, except for carefully timed entrances and exits to hide the fact that sleep was no longer a part of her daily routine.

But nobody would be up to see her arrive at this hour, and Lilith didn’t expect to stick around past dawn. Not tonight. She just needed more ammo. There was one person who would have the answers she needed, and she knew he’d be heavily guarded. She’d wasted enough time following the group as a whole looking for weak points — to end this, she needed to find the traitor himself. No matter the cost.

She reached the armory, grabbed what she could. Her body was weapon enough, but it never hurt to be prepared.

Part of her longed to phase away, to start her new search immediately, but she knew there was little she could do at this hour. Wherever he was, Vincent wouldn’t move until the sun rose; she would kill him in the daylight.

The only thing she struggled to kill was time. It was why she loathed nights like these. Left with nothing to do but wait, no one but herself for company, the restlessness grew to unbearable heights. It ate away at her, until her mind filled the quiet in her head with doubts and memories she’d rather forget.

Tonight, she was thinking about her memorial. The one she’d stumbled upon after its completion. Ever since her conversation with Mother Superion a few weeks ago, she kept coming back to it. She wasn’t entirely sure why.

Her legs dragged her to the main hall, went through the motions with muscle memory she hardly recalled. A ghost haunting her own house, there was an uncanniness to what was once familiar. It was as if, even though she could see it, could feel it, it was still somehow out of reach.

Cat’s Cradle could take part of the blame. It was particularly eerie at night. Too empty. The ancient architecture echoed, the sound of her footsteps reverberating all around her. She walked like a musician in an abandoned performance hall, followed by the spirit of notes that she no longer had the ability to play, desperate to both starve off the quiet and leave it undisturbed.

The only light came from the moon outside; in its gaps of coverage, anything could be lurking in the dark. Nevertheless, she walked on. It helped, knowing that she was scarier than any monster she might find hiding in the shadows.

Lilith paused mid-stride when she felt it. Another heartbeat. Another body. She crept forward slowly, let her nails grow in anticipation as she moved toward the back of the hall.

She found her lying on the piano bench, right next to where her picture had been. Her eyes were glued to the ceiling, completely oblivious to the fact that she had company.

Lilith exhaled, moving forward with a little more weight in her step.

“Camila.”

She gasped, nearly falling off the bench as she turned toward her.

“Oh! Lilith.” She seemed to relax as she recognized her. Lilith wondered how long that would last, how much time she had before the sight of her invoked feelings of fear rather than comfort. “I didn’t know you were back.”

“I got in late,” she said, her words not entirely a lie. “Didn’t want to wake anyone.”

“Does that mean no news?”

Lilith shook her head. Camila’s face dropped, the glimmer of hope gone as soon as it arrived.

“I’m heading out again in the morning,” she told her. “I’m going after Vincent.”

“You think you can find him? My tracking algorithms haven’t had any luck. It’s like he jumps into sight out of nowhere, does some stupid ritual, and then disappears again.”

“I’ll find him,” she promised. “He may be able to hide from the rest of the world, but he can’t hide from me.”

Camila nodded. She’d moved to a sitting position now, back to the old piano. The one she’d played for Shannon. Its keys were rotting, its strings not properly strung. The music that came from it could hardly be called such a thing, not with every note ringing wildly out of tune. And yet, when she’d sat there, when she’d added her voice to it, the beauty had been undeniable.

Had anyone played for her, she wondered, when they’d thought her lost? Had Camila looked at the crowd with tears in her eyes and a sad smile on her face? In the midst of what was surely a period of upheaval, of frantic shifts in power and plans made from little more than desperation and prayer, had they found time to miss her?

“You said you’re heading out in the morning?”

Lilith nodded, refocusing on Camila. It was happening with more frequency. The dissociation. Losing small moments of time along with the big. Succumbing to the thoughts that slipped into her brain, thoughts that may or may not belong to her. It was impossible to tell anymore. The knowledge that someone else had taken residence before left doubt lingering after every image and instinct her mind conjured up.

“Then how come you’re still awake?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” she said in place of an answer. “Don’t you have morning service in a few hours?”

She’d meant it as a deflection, but the wrongness of the moment began to dawn on her. Camila only made it to morning service if she was dragged, and didn’t genuinely begin to wake until at least halfway through the sermon.

“Yes, and I’m already up and ready to go. Aren’t you proud of me?”

Camila smiled as she spoke, but now that she was looking, Lilith could see right through her. It didn’t reach her eyes, which were surrounded by dark circles, etched too deeply to be the consequence of one sleepless night.

“Camila,” she said slowly, “are you alright?”

“Of course I am.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

She tried to laugh it off, but the sound came out mangled. “Truly, I’m fine.”

“People who are fine don’t sit in the dark at three in the morning.”

“You do.”

“Exactly.”

Self-preservation told her to hold her tongue, but she couldn’t help it. Camila wasn’t meant to look like that, light in her eyes so dim she could hardly find its shine.

“It’s nothing,” she conceded.

“Dreams?”

Camila bit her lip, which answered her question well enough.

She’d already guessed the culprit — the problem was that Lilith was ill-equipped for this particular scenario. She’d never trained for it. Lacked the innate comfort found in Beatrice’s tone or Mary’s steadfast gaze. Hell, even Ava could be delicate when the moment dictated it.

But she had always been sharp edges and harsh words. Providing comfort felt more unnatural to her than anything else. It was one of the only scenarios where her confidence wavered, where she looked to others for guidance. Mimicry had saved her countless times before, given her the answers she’d have never found on her own.

But Camila was still staring at the ground, hands fidgeting at her sides, and Lilith didn’t know what the right move was, but she knew she couldn’t stand there and do nothing.

“Do you…want to talk about it?”

Camila shook her head; Lilith did her best to hide her sigh of relief. “No, I just…I just need to get out of my head, is all.”

That was something she could understand. “Sparring usually helps. It requires complete focus. No room for distraction.”

“It’s the same with playing.” She nodded to the keys behind her. “As a kid, I used to play at night a lot, whenever my mom worked late. Made the house feel less empty. Made me feel less alone.”

The image of a young Camila desperately clinging to music for companionship threatened to cut her hold on reality. Lilith forced herself to fight off the memories, to stay grounded in this moment, not get lost in any other.

“So play, then.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“It’s the middle of the night. I could handle the neighbors complaining, but I’m not going to wake the whole OCS. Not over something as pathetic as—“

She cut herself off.

“As what?”

“Nothing.”

“Camila.”

“I can’t stop seeing it.” She spoke quickly, like she’d lose the words entirely if she paused for too long. “Mary drowning in all those bodies. Every time I close my eyes, I see it. And we’re all just standing there, completely helpless. And then we’re gone, and she’s...”

Oh. Somehow, she hadn’t considered that it would be her fault that Camila was up tonight. That they would both be haunted by her actions.

“And over all of it is that damned sound of Adriel laughing. Even when I wake, I still hear him. It’s like he’s in my head.”

She was staring at her now, desperation in her eyes. Lilith had seen horrors that even her own mind hid from her, but nothing as upsetting as this anguish she knew was hers to blame.

Camila was the exact opposite of her. Kind where she was cruel. Gentle where she was rough. Lilith was the one who deserved sleepless nights and guilt that sat heavy on her shoulders; this pain was not meant for Camila to carry.

Without thinking, she walked up to the bench. “Don’t panic,” she said as she wrapped her arms around her and willed them into the in between.

She could see exactly where they needed to go, and in the blink of an eye, there they were. Part of her was still slightly awed by her own ability, even if the otherworldliness was something she knew she should fear. Her mind echoed some parable about taking care of wishes lest they come true, but Lilith couldn’t help it — her entire life she’d fought to be remarkable. Now she finally was.

Her body still clung to the rush that accompanied phasing no matter how many times she traveled. It was as if every one of the cells in her body was still vibrating with movement, energy that demanded a place to go. It was unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. Exhilaration in its purest form.

The sight of her destination snuffed the feeling out rather quickly. The room was entirely unchanged since the last time she’d stepped inside. Cellar walls poorly disguised with hideous wallpaper. Chair in the corner that had never been used. Certificates in frames and medals on display, all for nobody to see.

Despite its forthcomings, the baby grand sitting right in the center of it all commanded attention. Lilith wasn’t sure if anyone had maintained the tuning, but no matter the state, it had to be better than what they’d left behind.

“Where are we?” Camila asked, eyes wide as she took in her surroundings. To her credit, she seemed unfazed by the mode of transportation.

“Somewhere you can play.”

Lilith watched her walk up to the piano slowly, as if it might disappear if she startled it. “It’s beautiful.”

“It’s out of practice.”

“That doesn’t take away from its beauty.”

Camila lifted the cover, let her fingers move delicately above the keys.

“What’s it doing, hiding down here?”

“The walls keep the sound contained.”

Camila turned back toward her. “Who would ever want to trap music?”

The same woman who deemed it unnecessary despite her growing proficiency. The one who pulled her from her lessons, replaced her sheet music with fencing swords and her theory textbooks with Latin and Greek. Who didn’t hate the success, but simply struggled to see its value once it had taught her discipline and patience.

“It doesn’t matter,” she finally answered. “Nobody will be bothered if you play down here.”

Slowly, Camila sat down. If she noticed the name engraved on the metronome to her left and the trophy to her right, she gave no indication. Even if she had, it wouldn’t be one she’d recognize. The girl who’d won those awards had stopped existing long before this body left this earth.

Lilith supposed she’d mourned herself twice already. When she’d joined the OCS, when she’d disregarded who she’d been before, she’d thought she was evolving. Moving on to the next stage of her life. Becoming something bigger than she was. Not a death, but a rebirth.

The irony was not lost on her. Nor was the awareness that, by her own standards, abandoning who she’d been should have been easier. It wasn’t as if it was a new phenomenon. She’d spent her whole life preparing for another transformation. It was the sole purpose of her existence. Her mother had always made that very clear.

She wondered what she’d thought when she heard the news of her unfortunate death. Whether she’d felt anything but disappointment. It wasn’t like she hadn’t considered the possibility — according to her, it was better to have a meaningful life than a long one. How else could she justify the fact that they came from a family of martyrs?

At least Lilith could still claim to have fulfilled some element of her destiny. Mother had never even been in consideration for the Warrior Nun, let alone laid her life down for her. She’d hardly seen combat at all — her priority had been on maintaining appearances, on acquiring funding while keeping their secret. Desk work.

Lilith had never understood how she managed the contradiction. Demanding a life she’d never lived. A sacrifice she’d never given. But what confused her most was knowing that even now, when she could see the outrageousness of her mother’s expectations, part of her still longed for approval she knew she’d never get.

The sound of a C Major arpeggio commanded her attention. Camila was staring at her. She wasn’t sure how long she’d spent looking, what she’d seen when Lilith’s mind had slipped into a vault of memories, burdened by thoughts she used to have the strength not to linger on.

She stared back, waiting to see if her face would change. Waiting for the final shoe to drop, for her to see through her and discover exactly what she’d become. For her to run. Even the slightest of movements, the tiniest inkling of disgust, would confirm her descent into wickedness, would make certain that her very being was irredeemable. If Camila couldn’t see good in her, there was certainly none left.

Instead of revolting, she seemed to ease into her position when she realized she’d regained her attention.

“I take requests,” Camila said with a smile, looking like herself for the first time all night.

When she’d offered before, using a tablet in Jillian’s lab, Lilith had been similarly lost in her mind, searching desperately for memories she had no access to. Her head had throbbed and her hold over herself wavered every moment. She’d snapped, but when Camila didn’t back down, she’d given in, drank the tea and tried to relax. Let herself smile for a few seconds.

She’d been promptly punished for it. Fire burned in her side the instant she’d let her guard down, hurting and healing the wound that killed her.

The pain had faded since then, but her mind remained untethered. She should have learned her lesson, but still she longed for the relief, for the inexplicable comfort that came with Camila’s company. Lilith wanted to smile again, even if her body would take its revenge.

“Play something happy,” she answered softly.

She expected sarcasm, a joke at her expense, but Camila just stared at her and said, “I can do that.”

Her hands began moving quickly, plucking out a lighthearted melody. Lilith backed up and sat in the chair in the corner. The oddity of it was almost distracting — this room existed for the sole purpose of not having an audience. Her seat was intended to be mere decoration on the off chance guests wandered where they didn’t belong. But the pleasant sound grounded her, let the thoughts come and go without taking her with it.

Part of her was tempted to close her eyes, to allow the music to wash over her undeterred by her other senses. But to do so would mean losing sight of Camila, still smiling, eyes glued to the keys and hands moving freely across them.

Her technique was unpolished, her path to each note made harder than it needed to be. The instinct to correct her was there, itching to come out, but she refused to listen to it. Not when she could be listening to her.

When she played, there was a freedom to her spirit, one that eradicated the presence of fear entirely. Lilith was certain she’d never felt the sting of a ruler against her knuckles, never felt the glare from the audience anticipating mistakes. She played with flaws, and yet instead of hindering the performance, they only made it better.

The piece came to its natural end, but Camila allowed only a breath of silence before she began again. The next one sounded much like the first, with bright staccatos accompanying an airy melody, but after a few moments it transitioned into something somber. The melodic line remained, but it had lost its energy, its joy. And when it returned, although she could tell the notation was unchanged, it no longer had the same quality that it had at the start.

If she still believed in omens, she’d have called it such.

Eventually, that piece came to a close as well. Rather than cutting it off, Camila held the final chord, and Lilith wasn’t familiar with the song but she could recognize that the length was unwritten. The sound wouldn’t last forever, but Camila seemed determined to give it more time than it was meant to have, more importance than it deserved.

Her efforts, however noble, were in vain. Silence won in the end, as it always did.

“Do you want to play something?” Camila asked, turning toward her.

“What makes you think I know how?”

“The way you looked at it.” She said it casually, but there was a sadness in the way she spoke, as if she could tell from just a glance that it was something she’d lost.

Lilith thought about what it might feel like. She hadn’t played a note since her school days. Her sheet music had likely been thrown out, her muscle memory nearly nonexistent. There was no reason why she should say yes.

Despite herself, she still hesitated. Her mind remembered the effect that playing used to have on her. For a period of time, when her mother abandoned the lessons and she’d been forced to play in secret, creeping down on nights exactly like this one, it had been all she’d had. The one thing she did where she sought no one’s approval but her own. There had been something freeing in that.

Staring at the piano, it was easy to imagine it now. She could practically see herself sitting there, playing for Camila, welcoming back that feeling of ease and satisfaction. Allowing this body to grab hold of that sensation, to familiarize itself with what it meant to be truly at peace.

The temptation to say yes nearly overwhelmed her, but the longer she pictured it, the more reality crept in. She imagined long, dark nails leaving scratch marks all over the keys. Entire sections of the piece played without her recollection. Her hands jumping through space to reach the next notes. Music ruined, becoming another thing she could never return to.

“No,” she answered. “You keep playing.”

“Alright,” Camila conceded without pushback. “But let me know if you change your mind. I don’t mind listening.”

She turned back, began playing something Lilith suspected was a pop ballad. Camila sang along this time, and although there was a tragic nature to the lyrics, she was still certain that it was a love song.

Lilith usually hated those. For as long as she could remember, and much to her mother’s dismay, she’d preferred the harsh, brutal, unapologetic honesty found in punk music. They expressed emotions she’d never been allowed to, with confidence she sought to emulate. But with the soft cadence of her voice, the ache and awe no less raw or real, Camila could convert anyone.

The lyrics had depth to them. No grand statements, no simple pleasantries. The love it spoke of was a quiet kind. The asks were not big, but significant nonetheless. It was a concept she found both entirely foreign and yet strikingly familiar.

Again, the song ended all too quickly. She waited to see how she’d respond, what she’d play next, but Camila just sat there, staring at the empty space where sheet music usually stood.

“Hey, Lilith?” She said after a moment, turning to face her.

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

Lilith couldn’t fight off the smile. “Play that one again.”

Camila’s grin widened, and she went back to the beginning, the initial chord progression returning as if it never left.

In a few hours, Camila would be back in Cat’s Cradle. Despite her inexperience, she’d be leading them, working side by side with Mother Superion. Surrounded by faces who looked up to her, who saw talent with a computer and crossbow coupled with unbreakable spirit. She belonged there, in a way Lilith never had and never would again.

Come morning, Lilith would be hiding in shadows, following whispers until they led her where she needed to be. She would be giving in to her depravity, allowing it to become an asset, wondering when she’d finally cross a line she could not come back from.

But right now, Camila was smiling. Music filled every inch of this lonely, hidden space, and it was all too easy to submit to it, to allow it to occupy the emptiness in her mind as well.

#save warrior nun #still holding out hope #i saw the crumbs of camila asking about lilith and i ran with them #and i put this in ao3 #but if youre curious about the songs i had in mind #i had nothing for the first one oops #but the second was married life from up #and the third was sweet nothings from midnights #(don't ask me about the logistics of camila learning that song just enjoy it)#warrior nun #sister lilith #sister camila #warrior nun fanfic #TFLAO3

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