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The Presence — Marie Eyre
SOMETHING STRANGE IN THE CHAPEL…
Marianne entered the dim-lit chapel with some trepidation. At 21, she was a sensible girl, but all the talk of phantoms, and the unaccountable events of the past week were getting to her.
At the door, she paused in shock. In the gloom, kneeling at the altar, was figure draped in black. The prayer, addressed to the Devil, suddenly halted. The figure turned, and before Marianne could recover she was seized in powerful arms and carried, half-fainting with terror, toward the stairs to the tower…
Marianne entered the dim-lit chapel with some trepidation. At 21, she was a sensible girl, but all the talk of phantoms, and the unaccountable events of the past week were getting to her.
At the door, she paused in shock. In the gloom, kneeling at the altar, was figure draped in black. The prayer, addressed to the Devil, suddenly halted. The figure turned, and before Marianne could recover she was seized in powerful arms and carried, half-fainting with terror, toward the stairs to the tower…