HALO BEARERS! Be a part of the Warrior Nun fan legacy! To celebrate one year as a family, we are CALLING FOR SUBMISSIONS to the first ever Warrior Nun FanZine!
This is the first in a SERIES OF EVENTS we have planned for the first anniversary of the show so stay tuned!
Summary: For a price, people can now customize their own smart home AI. When Beatrice decides to move out of the city in an attempt to heal, she chooses a house in the middle of nowhere. She later realizes that the previous owners never uninstalled their home AI.
She was tired. The kind of “tired” that burrowed deep inside her bones and made a home inside her soul. The kind that wouldn’t and couldn’t simply go away. It probably didn’t help that she felt like she hadn’t stopped moving since she made up her mind to pack up and leave. She glanced at her rearview mirror and absently noted the empty length of road behind her, ignoring the amount of bags crammed in the seat behind her that nearly obfuscated the mirror’s view.
But as Beatrice looked at her GPS and noted the few remaining minutes until she reached her destination, something seemed to unlatch within her. The tension all along her back and shoulders began to register in her mind, thus prompting her to consciously relax her muscles, her fingers slowly unclenching their tight grip on the steering wheel.
She knows the stress she’d put herself through and the consequences of the strain since she left the city will no doubt make itself known soon enough through little aches and pains. She would be so lucky to spend her first night in the new place without a migraine.
Before she could begin to run down the list of things she’ll need to do upon arriving at the new house, Beatrice finally laid eyes on the latest property she’d acquired.
Unlike the type of properties her family liked to indulge in, this was a far cry. No, not dilapidated or rundown, but mostly because of its simplicity. The log cabin was far from shabby though. Beatrice’s tastes may be less ostentatious than her kin but it didn’t mean she disliked the convenience of technology, electricity, and a fully working plumbing system. Despite her haste in packing up her entire life and moving so quickly, she still managed to assess and choose her new house in accordance to her living preferences.
Though it might be fun to add that if Beatrice was the type to watch films at all, she might have recognized the stereotype of a cabin in the woods and the potential ending if she were in a teen horror movie. But Beatrice was not a teen, she disliked stereotypes, and she didn’t like to watch films that were likely made in the years before her parents even started dating.
Beatrice thumbed her car’s engine off and got out, stifling a groan from having been driving for so long. She allowed herself a few seconds to stretch before diving back inside her car to grab her trusty backpack and the brown envelope packet that contained keys to the house and everything related to it.
She took a moment to survey the immediate surroundings of her new home and found it as agreeable thus far as when she spoke with the real estate agent. There was only one road that led up to the property which ensured Beatrice would be easily notified of any unexpected guests. There were a few steps that led to a wide enough porch to accommodate the current two chairs and small table occupying the space. The agent didn’t spill much about the owners, only that they accepted Beatrice’s offer and everything and anything she may find to have been left behind on the property was considered hers upon finalizing the sale.
She opened up the packet and took out the set of keys. Thankfully, each was labeled accordingly and soon enough Beatrice was stepping through the threshold of her new house.
The young woman took in the height of the ceiling, the massive rafters and impressive beams from which an out-of-place chandelier made of mason jars was hanging from. The various furniture that dotted the space were draped in white sheets, the wooden floor seemed to hold little dust, though the remaining sunlight coming in from the skylight showed dust motes floating around after having been disturbed by her entrance. Sliding glass doors to her right allowed her a glimpse of a deck facing what was obviously the outskirts of the dense forest. It was quiet, broken by the occasional sound of what she could only assume as the natural inhabitants of the forest.
She sighed, but her sigh was that of relief.
Granted, there were a number of things to be done before darkness fell, but Beatrice finally felt safe. Safe like she could finally stop pretending and just…be.
Fortunately, her years of experience in careful planning and penchant for having things organized have yet to fail her. Before the sun had truly set, Beatrice had the electricity up, phone line and internet active, water running, and all her things from the car carefully organized and set in their designated spaces. Granted she still needed to unpack most of them, but if she could just get the kitchen appliance to cooperate and start working, she might even have dinner prepared in no time.
Beatrice sighed as she tried to peer behind the fridge. The damn thing looked like it was built and shoved right into the wall. She wasn’t really in the mood to move heavy things at this point but if she wanted to prevent most of her food supplies from spoiling too soon, she needed at least the fridge to work. She hadn’t even gotten around to checking on the stove, though by the looks of it, it might run on electricity as well.
She rubbed her eyes and peered at the wall running along between the overhead cabinets and the counter and realized that the other appliance like the oven and what might be a more complicated coffee maker or espresso machine looked to have specific stations or docks that were carved into the wall.
Beatrice frowned. Darkness was creeping in fast by then and other than the stupid chandelier from the living room that spilled light everywhere else, she’d definitely need more light to work with if she’ll be forced to pry into making the kitchen work for her.
That’s when she noticed the lack of switches.
She could see the light fixtures scattered all around. She even found some within the cabinets, obviously for convenience and she recalls being pleased with the discovery. But where the hell were the switches? She meandered onto the main entrance to the nearest flat surface where she’d dropped her phone. She hoped the agent could get in touch with the owners to at least entertain her questions while she was still getting situated.
And that’s when she noticed the blinking light.
It was a small box affixed to the wall about a meter from the edge of the front door. Beatrice was horrified. She can’t believe she forgot to ask about security! What if she’d tripped a silent alarm and now she’ll have to face the embarrassment, not to mention the hassle, of trying to explain herself to the local authorities?
Beatrice groaned. She couldn’t even find the blasted light switches. She made a grab for the packet, trying to look at the documents in case she had to explain herself and how she had the right to be there. Thank God for the stupid chandelier, at least she had one light source.
But could she exist on the damn thing every night?
“I just want the lights on, dammit!”
And then there was light.
A lot of it actually.
Beatrice almost squinted upon realizing just how many light fixtures were scattered throughout the ceiling, the corner, and the lamps she’d overlooked. She finally noticed the brilliance of the kitchen once light flooded every nook and cranny of the space. There was even a noticeable hum that broke the natural silence from before and Beatrice would almost bet that the fridge was finally up and running.
“What the fuck?”
Sorry. I do not recognize that command.
The sudden strange voice that echoed within the four walls of her home made her jump almost an entire foot backwards. She had barely kept herself from tripping over a small box of her things and possibly hitting her head on the way down. That would’ve been a hell of an obituary. First night and fodder for the local cops, accidentally killing herself like an idiot.
“What the—who’s there?” Beatrice frantically looked around. The house was spacious but she’d checked everything before and secured even the two bedrooms off to the left side. No one could’ve just snuck in.
Besides, there was something strange and familiar about the voice.
I am your smart home assistant. I’m pleased to meet you.
The mechanical tone was nearly indecipherable. Nearly. It was quite impressive.
“I didn’t know this house was equipped with an AI.” Beatrice mumbled as she thumbed through her phone’s contacts, hoping to verify things with the agent. She wasn’t entirely against the tech, though a heads up would have been nice. Heaven knows she could have accomplished other things instead of trying to dig into the kitchen’s inner workings.
May I be of any assistance?
Beatrice felt the beginnings of that migraine she’d feared earlier. She locked her phone as one hand rubbed her temple aggressively.
“You could start by turning down the lights please.” She could humor the AI. Even if she’s a little wary about the tech considering how she knew AIs were tethered to the cyber network and she’d chosen this place in order to hide and have time to heal. Or at least finally have the silence and the space to think.
Would you like me to dim all of them?
“Y’know what. I have a headache so, feel free to adjust them where I won’t have to be stabbed in the head with it.”
To her relief, all the lights were adjusted accordingly. She was even pleased to find that there were strategically placed lights further down the walls that meant she could see peripherally where she was walking and still have the overhead lights in a low setting. The overall feel of the house suddenly seemed more muted.
She opened up the fridge and found that her earlier observation was right. The coolness within the freezer made her want to put her head in it to stave off the worst of her burgeoning headache. Instead, Beatrice made an effort to pick out the rest of the food that needed cool storage and swore to finish unpacking and storing everything else when the meds had at least kicked in.
Speaking of meds. Right. Her bag.
Thankful that she had the foresight to prepare one of the rooms she decided to call hers, Beatrice fumbled for the ibuprofen she’d set on the bedside table and dry swallowed two. She had spread her old sleeping bag on top of the single bed she’d found inside the room earlier, and inwardly patted herself on the back for it as she slid into it gratefully with her eyes nearly closed. She prayed for sleep to claim her and for the worst of the pain to pass soon.
Perhaps fortunately, the stress before the move, the long ride, and all the work she’d accomplished since arriving all combined to drive her body to quickly succumb to blessed unconsciousness.
She never noticed the lights that shut behind her as she made her way to bed, nor did she notice the locks engaging itself throughout the house, nor the shift in temperature that cooled just enough to soothe the slumbering woman.
And she definitely didn’t hear the words that gently resonated throughout the quiet house.
The words were stuttered, barely audible save for the lone figure who was leaning over the wounded woman. She couldn’t help but hear the plea as she desperately tried to save her.
“No one’s making you leave, Beatrice.”
Hands were trying to staunch the flow of blood, almost just as hard as she tried to staunch the memory of a different time, a different van.
“Please.” The sob that emanated from the nun’s lips almost broke her. “Please I don’t want to go.”
“You’re not going anywhere, okay? No one’s making you go. No one!” She turned to the side as she shouted for help, hoping someone would just arrive already so they could do something. Anything
“I like it here. I want to stay. Please.”
The words were getting fainter and Camila pressed harder as she whispered her own words of prayer.
“Stay with us, Bea. Stay as long as you like! We want you to stay!” Her words rang throughout the battlefield and Camila nearly failed to notice the silence around them.
“I need to stay.” Beatrice’s murmur failed to register with Camila when the sound of footsteps behind her made her turn and reach for her weapon, only to freeze at the sight before her.
Mary, Lilith, and Ava.
Or Lilith carrying what was left of Ava.
The sob from Camila burst unbidden as she turned her attention back onto the woman lying on the ground before her.
“Ava.” One word lined in pain as a tear fell from the corner of the nun’s eye.
“Bea…” Camila had no more words left. And even if she wanted to, she couldn’t. Not when she saw the corner of Beatrice’s lips slightly pull upwards in what looked like the hint of a smile, and words contrary to her earlier anguished pleas.
The Tanaga consists of four lines with seven syllables each with the same rhyme at the end of each line — that is to say a 7-7-7-7 Syllabic verse, with an AABB rhyme scheme.
