by Erin Trejo
“On your feet,” he says as he moves toward me. Richard. His voice is low and rough, and I’ve known for a long time that he hates me. He has never wanted to see me on the throne. He’s going to take great pride in what he’s going to do to me. I welcome it. All of it. The pain, the anger.
“Richard, are you going to be serving me my punishment?” I say as I stand to my feet. Another black robe moves in and grabs Rose. She doesn’t put up a fight, just walks along out of the cell with him. She’s stronger than any of them give her credit for, but there’s a fear in the back of my mind that she won’t be able to handle this. Just as the cell door is about to close, I see some others walk past carrying something in their arms. I shake my head, knowing what’s about to come to her.
“Don’t do this to her!” I roar. A whip is produced, and Richard moves forward, as do the other men in the cell.
“Take your clothes off and put your hands on the wall.” His demand makes me angry, but I do as I’m told. I slowly strip out of my robe and my clothes before I turn and face the wall. Two of the men come up and cuff my hands to the shackles on the wall. They move to my ankles next before the sickening sound of the whip flies through the air before striking me.
“You will scream for Satan! You will ask for his forgiveness!” Richard’s words are the only reason I scream. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of hearing my pain, but to keep her alive, I will scream for them.
The whip is something I haven’t felt in a very long time. As the beating continues, I remember the first time. I was three, maybe four and I disobeyed my father. I snuck into a coven meeting, hearing things he didn’t think I should hear yet. In this coven we don’t get to attend meetings until we are eight years old. At that young of an age, I didn’t know any better. I went against his word and I suffered for it. Thinking back over my life, I was on the receiving end of his anger more than I realized. Was it all Satan’s doing? Was it all for his name?
The day I killed my mother was a day that will forever be burned into my soul. I stood in the ashes of hell at the altar that day. I watched her cry and beg my father not to take her life. He laughed in her face. He told her she deserved to be sacrificed to Satan because that was his will. I honestly don’t remember what she did to deserve it, but it was the will of Satan and we followed his word.
I can still remember the eerie chill as it clawed at my soul, if I even have one, when that knife was pressed into my palm. My eyes watered but before I let a single tear fall, my father backhanded me across my face. The tears instantly dried up and my focus became my mother. The chanting became louder and louder as my vision became blurry. I was about to kill my own mother. I remember the way I felt, the way they chanted and something else took over me. I saw the tears in her eyes, and I couldn’t do anything to stop it. It was her or me. I knew that at the time, and I was only fifteen. I had to choose me; I wasn’t ready to die. So I raised the knife with both hands, and I plunged it into her chest. Over and over, the knife slid into her chest, blood exploding over the both of us. I can still hear the sound of my own screams, the roars that ripped from me.
“You will stay awake. You will pray for forgiveness and you will beg for mercy!” Richard’s voice pulls me from my thoughts, from the past that I now question.
I chuckle darkly even as I feel my own blood seeping from my back. The scent can’t be mistaken, it’s one that I’ve come to know on a personal level. In a way, it soothes me, calms the animal that lives inside, and as I rest my head on the wall taking deep breathes to calm the fury that is slowly filtering through my system, I think about the day that I will deliver my father into the hands of Satan myself. The day will come. He’s pushed me too far by using Rose. He took what wasn’t his to take and I will repay that favor.
Sixteen
Rose
A small altar is set up in the middle of the room. I’ve been in this cell for what feels like months, but it may only have been days. My stomach is in knots and my body aches. I’ve been beaten, kicked, cut, and burned. I haven’t eaten and only given little water. I’m weak, in pain, and every time I hear Kellin scream, I want to curl into a ball and die. The sounds I’ve heard have haunted me even as I try to grab a little sleep. It’s useless. The screams, the babies crying. I don’t know if they’re real or if they are just fucking with my head. Either way, my stomach protests and tries to retch.
The door opens and a lot of men come into the room. Black robes filter into the room followed by red robes and a few white. I watch them as they look around unsure of what they’re doing here.
“You haven’t proven yourself to this coven, 6106. You will now. You will prove to us that you are worthy of being with the Unholy One. You will prove that you can live in this coven and do Satan’s bidding.” Don sneers as a large package is set onto the altar. My eyes move over it, but I can’t tell what’s inside. I glance around and slowly drag my eyes back to his.
“What do I need to do?” Because at this point, I will do just about anything to get out of here. The cries. God, those cries remind me of home. A place that I never wanted to be. Children that I never wanted to have but I was forced to. The memories all are too real as they flash behind my eyes. My stomach cramps as the memory of the man that we called the Prophet works its way to the front of my mind. The way he would say my name, the way he would touch me. I was to do the Lord’s bidding. I was to produce his children and give them to the Lord. Even though every man in the community would get his chance, it was the Prophet who would win in the end. In my mind, I knew he was the father of all my children. I knew that he was abusing his power and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I couldn’t fight him. I couldn’t beg, and just like now, here in this place there is nothing I can do but play along.
“Redeem yourself!” Don roars breaking my thoughts. Two men move to unhook my arms and ankles and I fall to the ground from being so weak. I feel the prick before my eyes move to see Kellin being dragged into the room. His arms are bound behind his back and his eyes are wild. Whatever I was just injected with, I have no doubt he was too. He’s lethargic and his legs are unstable as he is dragged to the front of the room. The men drop him to his knees, and I open my mouth to speak but words won’t form. There’s a haze over my eyes and ringing in my ears. I’m yanked off the floor and dragged toward the altar. The chants begin and my body trembles. Sounds of babies crying pierce my ears as I’m stood in front of the altar. A large, sharp knife is pressed in my palm and my stomach rolls.
“You will now sacrifice for Satan! You will give yourself fully to the darkness!” The chants become louder; my head is spinning. Even though my body aches and I can’t see straight, the cries get to me.
“It’s not real, Rose!” I hear Kellin’s weak voice before I hear the slap. They’re silencing him and I need that right now. My eyes are moving rapidly over the package on the altar.
“You do this, or we kill him,” Don hisses, pointing at Kellin. No, I can’t let them do that. I need him.
“I can’t,” I whisper softly but he heard me.
“You can and you will!” I shake my head, when I hear Kellin’s mumbled cry. I can’t pull my eyes from the package. Something dark creeps into my vision, and just like that, all the visions of the Prophet come into view. The way he laughed, mocked me when I cried. The way he touched me, allowed the others to touch me. I was a child! No child deserved what he’d done. No child should have been forced to have a child and yet I was. Then I was marked for death. I can hear his words as they repeat in my head. You are now marked for death! You failed to follow the rules set forth by the Lord. Your job here was to reproduce and give to the Lord and you have failed.
I had failed.
“I had failed,” I say softly. The words repeat as they slip past my lips. The chanting of the coven is louder and louder, and the cries keep coming. Anger seeps into my being and as I step on shaking legs closer to the altar, I raise the knife and plunge it into the package. Over and over, with each
stab, I scream in agony. Each stab the coven gets louder. Whatever I’m stabbing never stood a chance and there’s a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that says I don’t want to know. My body begins to shake as the knife falls from my hands.
Before I know what’s happening, I fall to my knees, unfamiliar feelings flowing through me. It hurts. Everything hurts. I sit in a daze as movement happens all around me. I can’t focus on any of that. I’m looking at my hands, the hands that just did something evil.
“Rise, 6106!” I slowly shove myself to my feet unsteadily. The drugs coursing through my veins doing their intended job. A small crate looking box is now in the middle of the room. It’s small but if I was to fold into myself, I could fit. Then it all hits me. I shake my head as Don and the elders laugh. They move toward me and I want to run but I can’t. I’m stunned, stuck in place as I await whatever sick fate they have planned for me.
I’m lifted effortlessly and dropped into the crate. The lid closes and then there is only darkness. I should be used to it by now. Maybe it’s my imagination or maybe it’s from being here and brainwashed, but I can almost hear the voice of Satan whispering in my ear. He’s telling me it’s okay. Everything is okay but it’s not. What have I done?
“And now you can suffer in silence,” Don roars as the lid is open and something is dumped in with me. The lid is immediately closed and sealed and the scent slams into me. I reach down, feeling in the darkness but when I touch something that feels like a hand, I jerk my hand away. Internally I scream. Externally I cringe. This is what I’ve done. Is that what I killed? Or who I killed? I’m a murderer. I’m no better than they are. Reality hits me hard as I close my eyes tightly and try to picture something good. Something that isn’t tainted with evil and all I can think of is Kellin. He’s evil though. He’s pure fucking evil and he’s at their mercy just as I am.
I close my eyes and beg anyone that can hear me for death. I wish this would all go away and I’d be left to the nothingness that I feel. I thought I could handle this, get out alive but now I’m not so sure. There’s a sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach and it doesn’t want to go away. What else can they do to me? How much further will I be pushed before I break. As the scent of metallic blood filters through my nostrils, I clench my eyes shut and hope for the best.
Seventeen
Kellin
I’m bound with my hands behind my back although the drugs that have taken over my system in the last week are doing their job. I’m in a constant haze unable to do much more than lift my head. If fighting were an option, I would take them all down. I would send them all into the ashes that linger in their hearts. But my father was smart. He knew as much and now I’m rendered useless. Useless to help her as she was splayed on the altar in the temple. Useless to stop them when she cries out in pain. Each of the elders takes a turn with her, abusing her, raping her. After the first three, her cries fade into nothing. Her eyes are distant, staring at the inverted cross on the ceiling above her. She doesn’t look my way and that hurts.
“Chant louder! Satan is pleased!” my father screams into the crowd. After each of the elders take their turn, they all drink from the chalice of blood.
My blood.
Her blood.
The blood of her sacrifice.
“If anyone else would like to join now is the time,” my father adds. My stomach cramps. If I could make a fucking sound, I would growl so loud the room would spin but I’m rendered useless. And that’s the part that rips what’s left of my beating heart from my chest and tosses it into the flame. Ultimately, I did this to her.
The ritual goes on for what seems like forever. When it’s finally over, both Rose and I are released of our holds. I stumble to her, wrapping her in my arms, and by whatever strength I have left in me, I lift her and carry her to my room. I sit on the bed and hold her in my arms, cradling her against my chest until she moves. She climbs off my lap and moves into the bathroom like a ghost of the girl that came in here. For a while I thought she was broken. I thought that she had turned to the dark like everyone wanted her to and the day I found her bleeding, she was manic. Now I realize it was her way of coping with what we’d done to her.
“Kellin?” I hear her say my name softly and as I raise my head, I take in her naked body. She is broken on the outside but the look in her eyes? She isn’t ruined on the inside, not completely anyway.
“I’m sorry, Rose.” She shakes her head and holds out her hand. An offering to me that I shouldn’t take. I. Did. This.
“No, Kellin. Come with me,” she says as if she needs me.
How could I say no after all that she’s been through? I couldn’t. So I stand from the bed and walk toward her, intertwining our fingers as our palms collide. Her pale skin against my tanned tattooed hand is an example of the stark contrast of who we are. She was good once, pure. And me? I was always the darkness. I let Rose lead me into the bathroom where she has the tub full of water. She pulls her hand free and grabs the hem of my shirt, tugging it over my head before moving to my jeans. I’ve come to learn that Rose likes to be the one to undress me. Especially in this moment, I won’t take that right away from her.
“Are you sure?” I ask once more when I’m completely naked. Rose nods her head and climbs into the bathtub scooting up, so I have space behind her. I climb in and she instantly moves back into my waiting arms. Her head rests on my chest and I wrap her in my arms.
“I’m a murderer now,” she whispers.
“You’re not.”
“I killed something, someone. I don’t know what it was, Kellin.”
“You are not a murderer. You were drugged,” I hiss angrily. She isn’t. She was forced to do it! That isn’t the same as wanting it. Why can’t she see that?
“I’m slowly falling apart, and I don’t know that I can stop it. I can feel myself slipping and I’m scared, Kellin.” Her admission causes my chest to constrict. It’s not that I can’t see it coming, I can. I can see it all as plain as day. The things that she’s had to endure are sadistic and cruel. The things that she’s seen are nothing any person like her should have to see.
“I know you are and I’m asking you right now to fight harder, Rose. Fight harder,” I beg.
“Why? When there’s nothing left to fight for, Kellin, why?”
“I’m not worth fighting for, so I won’t even say me.” She shifts so she can look up at me, and there in her eyes, I find my hope. I find my sanity and my reason to fight.
“You are worth it to me. You just have to ask.”
I swallow hard and lick my lips. I know I’m not good enough for her. I know I’ve done things that are sick and fucked up. I know she deserves better, but when I’m with Rose, things become so much clearer. She helps numb the pain that I’ve felt since I was a child. Pain I didn’t even realize I had festering inside of me until her.
“Fight for me, Rose.” Her lips curl into a soft smile as she nods her head. I lower mine to rest on hers when her lips find mine. Our kiss is short but sweet. It’s what we both need in the moment and I’d gladly give Rose whatever it is she wants if I can.
“Will you fight for me, Kellin?” Her words almost sound pained, and yet when I answer, I can say that it truly comes from deep within.
“Till my very last breath.”
“I have danced with the devil,” she whispers.
“And I’m still him. You dance with me, Rose, me and only me.” My voice sounds firmer this time. When she nods her head, my heart beats faster with a renewed purpose. She’s giving herself to me fully and that’s something I will never let go of.
“I’ll get us out of here.”
“Not before I kill them,” she adds. I chuckle darkly when I hear the door to the bedroom open. Rose doesn’t even flinch, uncaring of who sees her anymore.
“It’s me,” I hear Rory announce before he steps into the bathroom. He doesn’t say anything at first, but his eyes roam over Rose’s body, pulling a growl from my chest. I’m than
kful the drugs are finally wearing off, but as they do, so does the accompanying numbness. The aches, the pains -they all return, and I know that hers are ten times worse.
“Take your eyes off of her,” I snarl. His eyes snap to mine, but I know exactly what he was looking at. The body of a girl that has been used and ruined to the point she will no longer recognize herself in the mirror.
“I made some calls. Things are falling into place. I know this isn’t ideal, but I just need a few more days.”
“Does she look like she has a few more days?” I ask him, my tone as serious as ever. His eyes move back to Rose and the need to cover her, shield her from anything else tears through me. Rory can feel the tension, he has to be able to. His eyes move back to mine and sighs.
“I’m trying, Kellin. Getting them all in one place at the same time is harder than we thought. But Benedict will be back in a few days, which means they will all be here. If I can get them into the temple, the others are willing to help.”
Benedict is one of the older men here. He needs to go, along with the elders.
“How many others?” I ask, needing to know.
“Twenty of the men. All the women except twelve,” he says. I tilt my head to study him a second because those numbers don’t sound right.
“Who doesn’t want out?”
“A majority of the red robes don’t want to leave. They’ve found their place here as slaves and they don’t want it any other way,” he says, his tone letting on to the sadness this has brought him. I nod my head and press my lips to the top of Rose’s head when I see the worried look in Rory’s eyes.
