Death By Belief.

She knelt in front of them, genuflecting, her head bowing forwards in respect, her long, dark tresses covering her face. They stared back, their habits, tunics and veils barely stirring in the light breeze, their regard forbidding. The cold, harsh stones pressed into her knee, making her shiver. Biting back a sob, she dared raise her head a few inches, risking a glance at those towering before her. The one in the front inclined her head and held out her hand, cradling a whip, towards the woman kneeling on the floor. The others shifted and murmured among themselves. She spoke sharply, to quiet the others and gestured impatiently with the whip, making the woman on the floor hesitatingly reach out to it. It was meant for her. Meant to punish herself. She felt the cold of the whip in her hand and stared at it, the long end of it reminding her of a snake, gleaming, poised to strike with its poisonous fangs. She raised it above her head, readying herself for the first strike, the muscles of her bare back bunching in tense anticipation. She brought it down falteringly, with the others looking on, silent once more. Only her harsh breathing echoed in the cold, cruel room. She raised it again, brought it back down with more force, again and again and again while the one in the front smiled and looked on with pleasure, her eyes gleaming. The whip bit into her back, making the skin split open and start to bleed, her body shivering, her teeth biting her lips to keep from screaming out loud. Her bones jutted out from her back, a striking contrast to the pale, pale, silk like skin that covered them. Losing herself in the pain and reveling in it, she whipped her back with more and more force till her arms gave out and the one in the front took over for the woman - whipping and whipping and whipping till the red haze cleared out of her black mind and saw the broken, bleeding body of the woman who once used to live inside it.