The Haunting of the Monastery

By Karen Hodges

Who are these peculiar people that all seem to be connected to each other in this eerie boarding school? There were German heritage, a deadly past, and a thrilling turn of events when Emmalynn and Kaitlyn joined forces to uncover a hidden family secret that was swept away long ago in mysterious hideouts and strange canopy trees, leaving draped madness behind, keys that unlock passages inside the girls' dorm, and treasures that linger in an innocent music box.

How will Kaitlyn manage her new dorm life?

Will she become Prom Queen?

Can Kaitlyn get accepted into college as a writer?

Will she be haunted forever by her findings?

Can family mean more than crime?

Does friendship hold depth once the truth is known?

Can folklore become reality?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Jan 3, 2023
• ISBN: 9781662483578

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The Haunting of the Monastery

Karen Hodges

Copyright © 2022 Karen Hodges

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING

Conneaut Lake, PA

First originally published by Page Publishing 2022

ISBN 978-1-6624-8349-3 (pbk)

ISBN 978-1-6624-8357-8 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

For Blayze and Amanda, for seeing what everyone else could not.

*****

For Mom, Dad, and Calen, for understanding my dreams!

*****

For Sal, for seeing a writer's potential.

*****

To be or not to be, that is the question.

—William Shakespeare (Hamlet, Act 3, Scene 1)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Chapter 65

Chapter 66

Chapter 67

Chapter 68

Chapter 69

Chapter 70

Chapter 71

Chapter 72

Chapter 73

Chapter 74

Chapter 75

Chapter 76

Chapter 77

Chapter 78

Chapter 79

Chapter 80

Chapter 81

Chapter 82

Chapter 83

Chapter 84

Chapter 85

Chapter 86

Chapter 87

About the Author

For Blayze and Amanda, for seeing what everyone else could not.

*****

For Mom, Dad, and Calen, for understanding my dreams!

*****

For Sal, for seeing a writer's potential.

*****

To be or not to be, that is the question.

—William Shakespeare (Hamlet, Act 3, Scene 1)

Chapter 1

It was my senior year of high school. I was riding in the backseat of a bright yellow taxi—a classic Volvo—although I wasn't quite sure where it was taking me. It had to be better than York Harbor. Kent Keegan, my father, just recently remarried a rude and bitter woman named Sarah Cantellie. And who was I? Kaitlyn Renee Keegan.

My stepmother, Sarah, is a falsifier and has always been very abusive verbally. However, Sarah disliked me and wanted children of her own bloodline and nature. I always felt really empathetic, so loud volumes don't work well for me. She would say that I felt too deeply for anyone to handle and called me a crybaby.

I didn't want to babysit a trauma patient—a nut job, she had told my father, Kent Keegan.

I had seen my mother die in a car wreck and was sensitive. The dead were not immune to me. I was about eight years old, and the Mack truck took her out in the tan Mercedes right in front of me, and my fresh ice cream cone from the convenience store hit the pavement in a very sad manner—very sad.

After they got married, they decided it was best to send me to a boarding school, possibly like in Tim Burton's movie Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children, only there would be more regulations, nuns, and strict Catholic rules. I felt like I was some black sheep to be hidden away forever because my mother had passed away.

As the Volvo taxi glided to the right, I felt a sense of freedom when I saw a green sign that read, "Cullman, Alabama; City Limits."

When the bright-yellow taxi turned, I noticed several gas stations and a bowling alley called Mcdougals. Then the taxi drifted further into the downtown area. There were two gray steeples with golden crested crosses that seemed to overlook the entire town of Cullman.

"That's Sacred Heart Church." The driver pointed, speaking up.

It's uh…pretty, I muttered back, not really giving a shit.

The nuns teach there for middle school. the taxi driver added. My name is Ethan Knight. Consider me a knight on a quest for your arrival at the old castle of Bernard, Ethan chuckled, making stories about the car ride.

I was anxious and couldn't take my eyes off The Cullman Times newspaper. As the taxi cab car went up a small hill, I noticed a large brown sign to the right of the highway that read, "Saint Bernard Preparatory."

Oh! Look at that, Queen Kaitlyn. We're here! Ethan cheered, then said, "Did you know that Saint Bernard has eight hundred acres of land?

Eight hundred! That's huge! My eyes widened as we drove around several large stone buildings, curving to the final stop near the school building.

The monks actually live here and share their artistic grotto gardens with visitors from all over the world. They pretty much hand-built this entire spot. All German-based heritage, Ethan spoke aloud. "Not even one Frenchman in the bunch, but yet the nuns down the road have mixed blood, including French heritage. They used to suffer for Christ in the olden days by punishing themselves for sins. Much like when you see Monty Python's Holy Grail, with the monks slapping wooden planks across their faces while they chant a little diddy. The punishments aren't for society's eyes anymore. They take that down to the chambers underneath the Sacred Heart.

Thank you. I had never heard about that, and we are part French. I also have a great grandmother who was a nun in Sicily, I replied, stunned, staring out the window.

That's Talon Donovan, said Ethan, the cab driver. He's going to take care of you from here. Hope you enjoy your boarding house and education here! It's something to be excited about. Watch out for the moats and alligators, kiddo! he said, poking fun at me one last time. I'm sorry story time had to end so soon, but it's never really over for a writer I suppose, he finished, placing the Volvo in park.

Thank you for all your help today and for keeping me safe. I handed the driver two twenties and a five-dollar tip, then stepped out of the vehicle to greet Talon Donovan, the school director.

Hi, Talon, I'm Kaitlyn Keegan, I spoke gently, clearing my throat.

Howdy, Kaitlyn, I'm Talon Donovan, Director of Admissions. It's nice to finally meet you. I'm so glad you were approved for the scholarship here at Saint Bernard Prep. Congratulations. Talon smiled, then walked to the taxi door, then spoke, I will help you with your bags. Talon Donovan leaned over the seat, grabbed two of the three duffle bags, then said, Come on this way to the girls' dormitory. Talon pointing toward the large stone building, I ran up slowly, following behind him.

Are you familiar with the ghost stories around campus, Kaitlyn? Talon Donovan teased lightheartedly, leaning his head back to see me as he carried my mess of luggage.

No, I'm not, I replied, confused as to why he was mentioning such nonsense. Maybe he knew I was a writer also; apparently everyone did. I rolled my eyes casually, trying to relax.

You'll enjoy learning about Milo the floating monk and his children, who haven't exactly been located, old folklore of the school, but based on real families. Hidden cults, lost secrets, and possibly even ghosts! I say there's a lot for you to write about here, Ms. Kaitlyn Renee Keegan. Talon smiled, intrigued that he knew my entire name. I'm sure you'll meet Emmalynn Farber. She's actually my cousin by marriage and head of the cheerleading squad, he spoke, rubbing his chin in a thinking manner.

Wow, sure sounds like there's a lot to write about, I replied, adding a little pep in my step to show eagerness. I sipped my iced espresso and fanned my face. This southern heat was something to adjust to. Up North, we didn't have many mosquitos, I thought to myself as I observed the buildings on campus.

After all, I had gotten a writing scholarship to attend Saint Bernard, in hopes of pursuing Princeton after my senior year. I bragged to myself, trying to de-stress from the new living quarters and the mass of people I was preparing to meet. I was praying to God that I had my own room. It's not like they sent over previews of living arrangements. I sighed to myself, looking down at the paved sidewalk.

I'm grateful for this opportunity, Talon, I replied, lifting my head. Hanging on tight to my third duffle bag, I then continued, You tell Father Merlin, I said so. I blushed, embarrassed, hoping the school really knew how much the opportunity meant to me. I wasn't just a stick in the mud.

This place is a breathtakingly enormous campus, Talon! I spoke again, reaching my hand out to touch the stone building, hoping to feel the energy. It was made way before my time. There were several shut rooms as we crept through a narrow hallway to the flight of stairs. The air was cool, and the walls were pale yellow.

Talon directed me toward the second floor, and we walked up two flights of stairs and stepped through a glass security door that made a chiming sound. I wiped my feet on the large black Rubbermaid mat.

There was a large living room to the left; in the front, beside the door, lay a notebook on a tan table. The sign read, Check In/Out.

"This is the dorm mother's room. Her name is Mrs. Martha Mayhill. This is where you sign in and out if you decide you need to leave campus. I would like to introduce you, but she's gone for the weekend, and there will be a substitute dorm mother in the living quarters till next school week.

"This is the freshman and sophomore hallway. They have to share rooms. We've got two more rounds of stairs before the senior and junior hallway."

We walked up the stairs, passing a small television room. My room was in the dead center of the large junior/senior girls' hallway.

It's the largest room in this hallway. Talon gulped, looking around the dormitory's wooden walls, then said, I know it could use a little paint, but maybe next summer.

Chapter 2

That's okay. We never painted anything back home. It's as tall as the trees in the Amazon! I blurted aimlessly, widening my eyes to feel out of the room. The energy was thick. I didn't know if I was comfortable here. Maybe after a few nights, it would become more like home. Moving was supposed to be one of the most stressful incidents a human can go through, and I felt exactly like that. I was hoping the girls would accept me and I wouldn't be a total outcast. Talon continued talking about minor details and renovations that were upcoming. Personally, as long as the space was balanced and calm, I didn't much care what it looked like. I was more excited about the publishing opportunities, such as the poetry class I had signed up for specifically during online registration. There was a huge seat in the left corner with a wooden desk.

Perfect, a desk for writing, I commented, smiling, tapping the edge of the wooden table as though I somehow manifested it there for my own use.

Yeah, thank you. My cousins and I made these desks two summers ago to fit the criteria and upgraded standards of the dorm, Talon bragged gently. I bet he almost wanted to pop his collar. I laughed inside my head.

The bathroom is down the hallway, Talon Donovan said, pointing while setting my duffle bags near the large shiplap closet. I heard screams in the hallway, but I thought I was hallucinating from the long journey. The screaming continued. I couldn't identify if it was a male or female. I just left it alone. Chills went down my legs, and my thighs trickled with fear. Something seemed very off about this dorm floor. I made sure my door was locked until it was closer to dinnertime. My stomach growled in tune with the chills, making my teeth chatter harder than ice. I wondered what it was about this mysterious school that kept it so quiet.

Chapter 3

"It's a long holiday weekend. The only two girls inside the dormitory are Caroline Calloway and Emmalynn Farber. Everyone else has gone home to enjoy a break, Talon Donovan reminded me, as they walked down the hallway of the dorms. Before I forget, he continued. Here is your key. It's the only key to that room. Talon widened his brown eyes, with specifications before he handed me the key, then said, The dormitory mother has a master key, but that's all, so don't lose it." Talon Donovan warned me carefully, snatching the key away and then rehanding it to me with a brand new, pink lanyard. He grinned, enthused.

"The only time Mrs. Martha Mayhill will come in for study hall or inspections, basic house training: clean bed, clean trash, no clutter. We do have fire and tornado