"He was selfish and arrogant and she was his only hope. She was a nun and he was her sinful temptation."

Terry Sheridan was a mercenary. He was a dead man, he had been killed for betraying the love of a woman. A woman who was not Julia. But then he came back into Julia's life and asked that she again give up everything she held dear.  Getting rid of Terry was harder than she imagined but she needed to send him away before he found her secret and ruined her life...again.

Title: Misconstruction by: Apocalyptica

The red shadow of the sun’s descend was reflected on the dry ground of the African landscape.  The hot air was blowing particles of dust into the eyes of the inhabitants of the small secluded tribe that was centered in the womb of this desert.  According to the leader of the people, they had resident in complete solitude since the start of time until the Nuns brought Doctor James Brown and his medicine.  There were close to 50 people, many of them children, in need of vaccines and proper nutrition, that the Nuns of Saint Charlotte of Our Heart Convent had decided to provide. 

Though at first the people had been reluctant, they finally allowed the Nuns and the Doctor to set camp in their territory and begin their lectures and healings.  There were six Nuns present, most of them in their early 50’s, except for one.  Sister Julie was a shy and quiet woman of 28.  She assisted the Doctor, an older man that believed in helping humanity, as a nurse.  Sister Julie had been chosen among many candidates for the service because her history of aiding the needy and her love for the way of Bob had been overwhelmingly moving to the Mother Superior of her convent. 

The horizon’s look signaled the end of the day was very near. Doctor Brown helped Sister Julie and another nun put away the used syringes into a red plastic bag labeled “Toxic”.  The people of the community walked about, momentarily stopping before them to salute with a quick smile and a bow of their head.  Both the nuns and the Doctor responded with friendly smiles.  Doctor Brown felt that there was an understanding among them that surpassed cultural barriers.  Still smiling, the Doctor was carefully placing another un-recyclable item into the bag when he hesitated briefly as he saw a member of the tribe running desperately towards their camp.

Seconds before reaching the first tent, the running man began shouting out frantically.  It was obvious that his cry was one for help, but neither the Doctor nor the nuns near him spoke the native language.  Sister Julie quickly ran toward another tent on the other side of the camp looking for one of the two sisters that served as translators. 

“Sisters!” she exclaimed once inside the correct shelter “You are needed in the healing tent!”

Sister Julie returned to the Doctor’s side as fast as she could, four other nuns and many more curious people followed her.  One of the older nuns, Sister Anne, stopped in front of the desperate man and exchanged words in his tongue.  The man had not finished speaking when the gathered crowd distinguished two other men in the distance.  They appeared to be carrying a heavy load between the two, and such load had the shape of a human.

“He says they had gone out hunting, made it as far as an entrance to what appeared to be a cave they had never seen before.  The territory was not their own so they turned to leave but there a dying man asking for help.” Sister Anne spoke calmly but no less concerned “They brought him here hoping your magic can make him live.” She finished looking at the Doctor.

Suddenly realizing her words, three of the nuns rushed to aid the two men carrying the wounded body.  Sister Julie cleared the wooden bed of any obstacle and began preparing cotton and alcohol on a small table near the bed.  Doctor Brown washed his hands on a bowl of clean water and dried them hurriedly placing gloves on his hand before they were completely dry. When the men and nuns came to deposit, the body on the bed the Doctor and Sister Julie were ready to exam him, hoping they could do enough to save a life. 

The patient was a man and he had been wounded by a gunshot to the stomach, a little to the left side of his body.  He had lost a lot of blood and was completely unconscious. Because of his state, there was no time or need for anesthesia. 

All other individuals left the tent, leaving the Doctor and his nurse to tend to the patient.  After nearly an hour, Doctor Brown exited the tent and informed the nuns and people that he had done all he could but the man was still in danger.  Inside the shelter, Sister Julie padded the man’s forehead with a wet cloth to try to lessen the evil works of a climbing fever.

There was no more to do than to wait.  Doctor Brown did not have the facility or the medicine required to heal the poor man.  Medicine had done all that it was able, now everything rested on the hands of Bob.  In a circumstance such as this one, the man was expected to die. Sister Julie looked toward the entrance of the tent and searched for any incoming people before looking down at the man dying before her.

He was delirious and clearly in terrible pain.  He moaned and growled reflexively but he did not have the strength to move Sister Julie’s hand as she moved the cloth across his forehead.  Probably nearing the time of his death the man uttered soft almost inaudible words.  He repeated a word over and over again, almost as if he was pleading for something.  Sister Julie lowered her ear to his face and at last understood him; he was calling for a female.  Urgently and faintly, the man repeated a name.

When at last the man seemed to draw his last breath, Sister Julie stood still holding her hands together in her lap as she stared at the body.  An unexpected emotion sweeping over her made her abruptly clasp one hand to her mouth to stop herself from sobbing loudly.

I did not wish for your death, she said silently, yet more to herself than to anyone else, I swear I did not.

Slowly Sister Julie touched the man’s face tenderly before speaking.

“I wish you all the peace your soul is able to find. I forgive you Terry Sheridan.”

When the sun rose the next morning, Terry was still fighting for his life.  While it was still unknown whether or not he would survive, the odds were increasing to his favor.  From within his state of unconsciousness he persistently fought invisible battles.  It appeared that he was gaining victory for more than three times he woke up and requested water.

His lips were extremely dry and his skin was peeling, leaving behind reddish superficial canals.  Penetrating through his clothes the strong rays of the sun had burned his body.  Terry had been wounded at least two days prior to the men finding him. It was evident that he had tried to crawl his way out of the cave because the palms of his hands were cut and bruised from dragging the weight of his body.  His knees were perhaps the worst looking part of his body.  They were so badly scrapped that his bone was visible among the peels of mutilated flesh.  The actual bullet hole in his body was small and hidden; it was almost incredible to come to the realization that it was that wound and not all his other ailments that threatened his life.

Doctor Brown came into the tent just as Sister Julie helped a still unaware man get a drink of water.   

“Is he doing any better?”  Dr. Brown asked.

“He seems to be, but the fever does not lower.” Sister Julie responded.

“Perhaps we can try taking him to the nearest town.”

“Do you think that would be a good idea?” the nun said quickly, “ after all who would leave a half dead man in the middle of nowhere, I am sure this man is in some kind of trouble.”

“But that is nothing we should be concerned about.  This man is going to die here unless we can get him to a hospital.” The Doctor said.

Sister Julie remained silent as the Doctor checked Terry’s temperature by touching his forehead.  He then went to his medicine bag and got a syringe, which he then filled with a mysterious liquid and swiftly inserted it into the injured man’s arm.  Meanwhile Sister Julie prayed that the Doctor did not notice her noticeable insistence that the man remained at the camp.  At the moment, there was no better place for Terry Sheridan to be than in a solitary tribal community in the middle of the desert. 

She knew that whatever had caused Terry his wound was not something to be taken lightly.  Mr. Sheridan was not at all a man to be taken lightly; everything he did had a vicious intention hidden within the cores of every movement he made. There had once been a woman who had found this particular characteristic to be quite amusing, even fascinating at times.  But as with every single subject in Terry’s life, she had been no more than a route to a bigger goal.  Once he had disposed her of everything but her pride, he left without a word and without looking back.

Sister Julie knew this woman she had a very singular essence, a striking sense of eerie familiarity.

Doctor Brown instructed Sister Julie of what she was to do for the patient for the next ten hours or so before the sun fell once again. Nodding in agreement the nun then returned to tending to the man that started repeating a woman’s name yet again.

Terry’s dirty conscience had in this, his time of weakness won a battle against his wretched soul.   Because he was not able to fight the memories in his mind these ravaged his defenseless senses and body.  Sister Julie knew that Terry’s fever was not due to infection or the actual wound but of the inferno that lived inside this immoral man’s body.

It is ironic, Sister Julie thought, how some people that truly deserve to die seem to live forever.  They are like a virus, spreading without detection and infecting everyone that crosses their path.  There is nothing nice about viruses; they are all evil, destructive, and repulsive.  Terry Sheridan was a virus, a deadly but undying virus. 

She knew his ways, his mind, and not too far back, she could still remember his taste.  It had been fiery and sour, dangerous and exotic, and it had driven her to the point of drunkenness.

Julia Graham fell for the charismatic, sweet-talking, spellbinding Terry Sheridan. A hazardous man that showed her the way to a life of adventure and a fast track to a criminal record.  With him, she learned of the art of lying and deceiving, he taught her to insert venom without biting the victim.  He made Julia into a female version of himself, and she had erroneously thought that she was his greatest pride.

Years ago, Terry convinced her to play along in a scheme directed toward a well-known woman that was his contact.  At the time, Terry had been an employee on the side of the law, but his true purpose was another.