Forgotten Specters: The Fated Wings Series Book 2

by C. R. Jane

  Sensing that I wasn't going to talk to him, he finally stood up, and then bent down to pick me up. His arousal was obvious as he slid me up his body. I couldn't see how he could even be attracted to me in my current state. I began to tear up again. I couldn't see how this situation would end up with anything other than him taking something from me that I didn't want to give. He carried me up the stairs, past a kitchen and a living room, and into a bathroom. He started to pull at my clothes, as if he wanted me to strip. I immediately burst into tears and tried to get away from him.

  "You need to shower Eva," he said sharply.

  "I'm not showering with you in here," I replied.

  "It's either Anna, or it's me," he answered.

  "Anna," I spit at him.

  "I'll get her this time, but you need to get used to me touching you," he said before walking out of the bathroom.

  I looked around the room, trying to see if there was anything I could hide in my clothes as some sort of weapon. Before I could search closely, the door creaked open wider and Anna walked into the room.

  "Reverend Darcy asked me to watch you," she said stiffly, before settling herself on the toilet.

  "I'm not changing in front of you, and are we allowed to close the door?" I asked, gesturing to the wide open door. She seemed to think for a second.

  "I suppose that will be all right," she said, getting up to close the door.

  She then returned to the toilet to continue staring at me. I got in the shower, closed the shower curtain and began to undress. I saw Anna's hand reach out as if to grab the curtain.

  "Please, at least give me this," I said softly.

  She paused, with her hand outstretched towards the curtain while she thought about my request. Finally, she retracted her hand and sat silently, giving me the go ahead to start my shower with some privacy. My clothes were stuck to my skin from the vomit, pee, and whatever other bodily fluids that had gotten on me while down in the basement for so long. It was a relief to strip them off although I didn't know what I was going to wear after the shower. I placed my clothes into a pile right outside the curtain, careful to keep it as closed as possible in case Anna got any ideas about needing to watch me again.

  I turned on the shower and winced as the cold water sprayed all over me. I had gotten spoiled spending so much time at Damon and Beckham's places. His water temperature and pressure were always perfect. I laughed to myself, the quality of the shower was certainly not something I needed to be worrying about. A pang of loss welled up in me thinking about them.

  Luckily there was shampoo and soap in the shower with me. I didn't have a washcloth, and didn't want to ask for one, so I rubbed the soap all over me, hoping that the soap hadn't touched a lot of other people. I noticed that there was a strange tingling sensation by my shoulder blades, I wondered if it had something to do with how I had been laying on the floor. I rubbed my back, trying to make the tingling go away.

  I finally had delayed the shower for as long as it could go, and my skin was starting to prune. I turned the water there and stood there for a moment.

  "Are there any towels I can use?" I tried to ask politely.

  She stood up and opened up a cabinet under the sink, pulling out a towel. After she handed it to me, I wrapped it tightly around myself, not knowing what to do next, or if I was expected to put on my old clothes again. I reached out for the clothes. deciding it would be better to have those than have the Reverend see me in nothing but a towel.

  "I have clothes for you," Anna said sharply.

  I dropped the putrid clothes in my hand. She hesitated for a second before grabbing my bra that had been rolled up with the rest of my clothes. She then signaled for me to follow her out of the bathroom. I hesitated, fearful that he was going to be waiting out there for me.

  "He's visiting with guests," she said, seeming to understand the look of indecision and fear on my face.

  I followed her out of the bathroom, paying attention to my surroundings for the first time since I had come upstairs. We went the opposite way than we had come in, walking into a large room that appeared to be the master bedroom. Anna walked over to a door that opened into a closet. She looked through a few things before pulling out a pair of simple cotton underwear, a black long sleeve shirt, and what looked like leggings. She walked back towards me and handed me the clothes.

  "Put these on," she told me.

  I reluctantly grabbed the pile from her, uncomfortable with the thought of wearing her clothes. My bra smelled lightly of vomit, and I grimaced as I slipped it on, careful to keep the towel in front of me to shield my body from Anna's prying eyes.

  After I was dressed, Anna led me back down the hallway. I could hear voices tersely discussing something as we approached a room at the end of the hallway. As we walked in, I immediately took a step backwards, beginning to tremble. There in front of me, sitting stiffly on a leather backed sofa next to Reverend Darcy, were the Andersons. Mr. Anderson immediately stood up when he saw me, stepping towards me as if he couldn't contain himself.

  "Sit down," ordered Reverend Darcy, his voice making it clear that it wasn't a request.

  Anna gripped my arm and led me to a seat next to the Reverend. I examined Mr. and Mrs. Anderson. Both looked like they had aged dramatically somehow in the weeks that I had been gone. Mr. Anderson had a grey pallor that was drastically different from how I remembered him. What had happened to them?

  "Eva. Your family has been very anxious for your return," he began. "When Patricia found you missing, she was beside herself. Your lack of respect for your mother and father is a sin. Proverbs 22:6. 'Honor your father and your mother, that your days may be long in the land that the Lord your God is giving you."

  Despite the gravity of the situation I was in, I couldn't refrain from laughing a little and speaking out.

  "They are not my father and mother. They are nothing more than abusive pigs," I snarled at him.

  The Reverend looked taken aback at my outburst. "What do you mean "abusive"?" he replied in a cold voice that had the Andersons sitting up straight.

  "What don't you understand about that word," I replied back, lifting my chin up firmly.

  "I want you to describe what they did to you," he said, barely able to form words with his rage.

  The Andersons had heard enough to cause them alarm apparently because Mrs. Anderson had stood up.

  "We have never harmed a hair on that child's head," she gasped out.

  "I would no sooner harm Eva than I would myself," said Mr. Anderson beseechingly.

  The Reverend stood up, the look on his face so chilling that I wanted to run and hide despite the fact that it wasn't directed towards me.

  Notwithstanding my hatred of them and all they had put me through for four years, I suddenly had the ludicrous urge to lie about what they had done, and pretend it was nothing. I hated the Andersons with all of my heart, but I couldn't find it in myself to wish for whatever torture I was sure the Reverend had in mind for them if I told him the truth.

  "I wouldn't lie if I were you," the Reverend said, seeming to read my mind.

  Maybe if I told him the truth he would feel sorry for me and let me go I thought. As far-fetched as it seemed, I was desperate for anything to change the Reverend's mind about keeping me his prisoner. I took a deep breath.

  "For four years those people did whatever sadistic thing they could think of to me, whether it was cutting, or burning, or unwanted touches. I ran away because they had kept me locked in an attic almost since I arrived with them, and I wanted a better life than the abuse and neglect they were offering me."

  The Reverend's face went strangely blank at my statement, as if my words had no effect on him whatsoever.

  "That wasn't so hard was it," he said, in an eerily calm voice. Anna came back into the room just then. I hadn't noticed that she had left, she was so quiet.
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  "Dinner is ready," she announced.

  The Reverend walked over to me, and held out his arm. I reluctantly stood up and placed my arm in his. We walked to a dining room which had been elegantly set. Despite everyone seeming familiar with this house, I didn't get the impression this was where Anna and the Reverend usually lived. Everything was dated and the house smelled musty, like it hadn't been used for quite some time.

  From my brief impression of the Reverend at the Anderson's house, and the fact that he had been driving what looked like a very nice luxury car when he stopped by the house on the day I escaped, I was pretty sure they lived in a much nicer house than this. It gave me chills to think that he must have been planning something like this for sometime, or even worse, what if he had been using it for other girls before me.

  I was led to a seat at the table. The Reverend pulled out my chair, and I gingerly sat down. I was still stiff and sore from my chair falling over in the basement.

  "I'll be right back," he told the Andersons and me, signaling for them to take a seat. As soon as he was out of earshot, Mrs. Anderson launched into me.

  "You ungrateful little bitch," she hissed. "When he comes back you are going to take back everything you said, or so help me I'll make sure something happens to you that you won't ever recover from."

  I stared at her silently in response. Nothing I said would make a difference. The Andersons were just evil to their core. I made the mistake of looking at Mr. Anderson and did a double take. The difference in his appearance was startling. His skin color was back to a more normal shade. He looked younger and fresher. Glancing at Mrs. Anderson I saw that she seemed to be looking better as well. Was this some kind of power I had?

  Reverend Darcy came in at that moment and I quickly looked over at him to see if he was recovering. Much to my astonishment he was looking much, much better than when he had first come down to my basement prison. What was doing this? A shiver went down my spine. Hopefully the fact that Beckham, Mason, and Damon were supernatural creatures would prevent it from happening to them. Mason had seemed fine so far on the tour away from me.

  Thinking of the three men in my life sent a rush of agony through my heart. I wondered if I would ever see them again. I didn't expect that they would be riding in on white horses to save me anytime soon. I had never mentioned the Reverend to any of them. What I wouldn't give to be wrapped up in one of Damon's hugs, or get one of Mason's passionate kisses, or hear Beckham's sweet laugh.

  My thoughts were interrupted by Anna bringing soup bowls into the room. She set bowls down in front of the Andersons first, and then served the Reverend and I before serving herself. She then sat down to the right of the Reverend. The Reverend still had the same eerily calm look on his face. The Andersons had dug into their soup with gusto. Watching them eat reminded me that I was starving since I had puked everything in my stomach up earlier.

  I picked up my soup spoon, deciding that I needed to keep my strength up in case an opportunity to escape presented itself. As I opened my mouth to eat, I realized how strange it was that the Reverend hadn't demanded that we say a prayer prior to eating. I was sure that we had prayed when he had visited the Anderson's house before. Out of the corner of my eye I saw that Anna was sitting with her hands folded in her lap, looking down sorrowfully. Meanwhile, the Reverend had begun eating, not seeming to notice his wife's distress.

  I again was about to take a sip of my soup when I heard a choking sound from across the table. I dropped my spoon, making a loud clang as it hit the bowl, and looked over at the Andersons. Mr. Anderson was making a choking/gagging sound. Foam was dribbling from his mouth, and his eyes had gone bloodshot. He was grasping his neck as if something was stuck in his throat.

  Mrs. Anderson started screaming, and began to pat him on his back. She was forced to stop her efforts when she too grabbed her throat and started to make choking sounds. A dribble of foam started to come out of her mouth as well. I stood up quickly, and looked over at the Reverend. He was serenely eating his soup as if nothing was happening at the table.

  "What did you do?" I cried out to him. "Please help them!"

  "Sit down Eva," the Reverend said in a voice that gave no room for argument.

  Ignoring him, I raced around the table. He stood up.

  "I said sit down," he yelled in a voice that felt like thunder. I glared at him, and started hitting both of the Andersons on the back, hoping that it would help them to throw up something, and get the poison (or whatever it was), out of them. The Reverend abruptly stood up, walked over to me, and dragged me back to my seat while Mr. and Mrs. Anderson continued to suffer what seemed like agonizing pain. I was plopped forcefully into my seat. The Reverend pulled handcuffs out of his pocket, and handcuffed one of my hands to the side of my chair, ensuring that I wouldn't be able to go anywhere.

  The next thirty minutes were the most gruesome and frightening moments of my life. As I sat chained to my chair, Mr. and Mrs. Anderson continued to suffer and slowly die in front of me. Their faces turned a withered grey, green mix. Towards the end both of them started to bleed from their eyes and ears. I knew this moment would haunt my dreams for years to come.

  When death finally came for Mr. and Mrs. Anderson, I felt immense relief that their suffering had ended. My mind was having a difficult time comprehending the fact that I had just been forced to watch someone die in front of me. And not just die, but basically be tortured to death in one of the most ghastly ways imaginable. I felt like I had stepped into an alternate reality, one filled with nightmares. How was it possible that I had just been laughing with Damon, and blushing over some text that Mason had sent over?

  I began to shiver, I felt like I was freezing to death. I wanted to cry, but I felt frozen from the shock of what I had just witnessed. My back continued to feel strange, as if the muscles were twitching underneath my skin. My bones felt like they wanted to rip through. I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. I was starting to lose feeling in the hand that was handcuffed to my chair.

  I looked over at the Reverend. He had just finished taking his last bite of soup, and Anna was collecting his bowl with shaking hands. He looked over at me with an amused look.

  "Aren't you going to finish your soup?" he asked in a seemingly solicitous voice, like two corpses weren't sitting across the table from us.

  I gaped at him. The Reverend had given me a bad feeling when I had first met him, but nothing could have prepared me for the evil I could now see radiating from his soul.

  "Don't look so alarmed my dear as if I'm some kind of monster. What just happened is a biblical principal that was commanded by God," he explained, the same amused look on his face as if my reaction was out of the ordinary.

  I stared at him aghast. I hadn't really ever been to church. None of my foster families had been interested except for the Andersons, and they certainly weren't going to take me out in public like that would have required. However, I had skimmed over some of the verses here and there, and I couldn't remember it ever saying that you were supposed to murder people.

  "Leviticus 24 is just one of the many chapters that I'm talking about my dear. 'Breach for breach, eye for eye, tooth for tooth: as he hath caused a blemish in a man, so shall it be done to him again.' It's all laid out very clear," he explained as if what he was saying made perfect sense.

  I opened my mouth and then closed it again, not knowing what exactly to say to explain how crazy what he had just said was. As evil as the Andersons were, they had obviously never poisoned me to death. I felt the thick taste of guilt in my mouth. If I hadn't said anything, than this wouldn't have happened. I was basically a murderer.

  Before I could get anything out, Anna arrived with more plates. She set salads in front of both the Reverend and I, her hands still shaking so hard that the silverware clattered against the sides of the plates. The Reverend sent her an admonishing l
ook. Anna took a deep breath in what looked like an effort to calm down, but failed miserably. I didn't blame her. My insides felt like a sack of snakes had been let loose inside them.

  The next hour stretched on for what seemed like forever. Mr. and Mrs. Anderson's corpses sat in front of me. Mrs. Anderson had died looking at me, with one of her hands outstretched on the table. I couldn't keep my eyes off of it. It seemed to be stretching towards me, a visual reminder that I had caused her death. The Reverend had Anna bring out three more courses before he finished with dinner. He ate painstakingly slow, as if it was his goal for me to spend as much time possible in this room, the lesson of what happened when he was crossed engrained in my mind for all eternity.

  He finally stood up. Like me, Anna hadn't touched any of the food on the table. The Reverend clicked his tongue in disappointment at our full plates.

  "It is a sin to be wasteful," he counseled us.

  Anna nodded her head in agreement, but made no move to eat. I just stared at him, still not comprehending the lunacy that continued to come out of his mouth.

  "I'm sure you are exhausted my dear," he said to me. "Anna will show you to your room. We have had it specially prepared for you."

  He walked over to me and unlocked my handcuff, taking my wrist in his hand and massaging it. I felt dirty where he touched me, and it took everything inside of me not to visibly cringe. After he apparently felt satisfied that the blood had returned to my hand, he leaned over and placed a kiss on my cheek. This time I couldn't help but flinch and I immediately felt his anger at my reaction. He must have felt that I had been traumatized enough by the evening though, so he didn't say anything. His eyes held the promise that I would regret it if my actions continued.