by Azure Boone
“I will prepare her!” Micah yelled before catching himself. But his anger was beyond apologizing.
“Very well brother.” Understanding hinted in Revin’s gravelly tone as he gave the signal for the Hell Hounds. “Due to the unusual circumstances and the weight of this Sifting, you will be a prisoner during the duration of the ceremony. If you demonstrate you are incapable of acting as Mediator, the job will be given to Scythe.”
Dread filled Micah as a herd of their elite death squad ghosted forward like a wall of black flames. Instincts slammed his muscles. Grab the nearest weapon and plunge it into Sarah’s heart and end it all swiftly was the first and strongest. The next was trying to kill all of them. The third instinct stilled him. He’d never had one like it. Wait, it said. A plan would surface.
Micah heeded, telling the instinct the plan would have to be fucking perfect or he would cause Sarah a world of suffering. He was a master at execution. And if he couldn’t save her from death, he’d see to it she died instantly in a non-ceremonious fashion. They wouldn’t be able to use her blood. Or hurt her.
Micah held Sarah’s arm in a death grip and opened the ritual circle. He stepped forward, pausing long enough to allow the Hounds to surround them for the escort. Sarah’s terror came out in stifled whimpers as she clutched him tightly. The man she loved—murderer and savior—escorted her into a darkness that planned to snuff out her beautiful light forever.
At the sifting chambers, they were both led into the outer room and the door was locked. The first phase room. There were several rooms of torture, each evolving in horror as you went, the final one leading into The Sacrifice Hall.
The moment they were locked in, Micah immediately pushed her into a corner and kissed her with a desperate hunger and fear. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he gasped, “please forgive me Sarah, please, I thought I could get them to let me Sift then maybe I could fake it and now, fuck now...”
Sarah grasped Micah’s face and held it before her. “Shh, shhh listen to me,” she cried, “I knew when I met you that it was a one way ticket. I knew there were risks and I will never be sorry I took them.”
He shook his head, turmoil building in his chest until he wanted to scream at her god. Instead he wept on her shoulder, his fury nothing compared to the crippling terror. “Why didn’t your god warn you? Why?” he gasped. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he recognized that she’d resurrected his dead cold heart and it was shattered inside him. Because he would be fucking responsible for her death. He couldn’t bear this.
“He did sweetie, he showed me.”
He lifted his gaze to hers. “Showed you?”
She nodded through her own tears. “He showed me you needed me.”
Pain stole his breath. “I didn’t need you,” he said, tears streaming, “I didn’t fucking need you.” He grabbed her and embraced her tight. “I needed a sacrifice, oh God.”
“I know you thought that,” she whispered in his ear. “But I saw beyond your game. I saw your heart, your soul. You needed me, Micah. And you still do.”
“But look what I’ve done,” he sobbed, pulling away, “I’ve led you to hell and your god let me!”
She shook her head then closed her eyes. “Yes, he did.” She leveled a strong teary gaze on him. “And I trust him. He led me here for a reason.”
“Why?” Micah didn’t care that he sounded like a broken child, betrayed. Why would her loving god do this to her?
She shook her head, her chin trembling. “I’m not entirely sure, I won’t lie. But I know this much,” she nodded, stroking his face. “I trust him. With my life, and my soul. They are his to keep, Micah,” she whispered. “They will always be his to keep.”
Micah collapsed to his knees, sobbing quietly, shaking his head. Sarah dropped down next to him and rocked him in a hug.
Micah heard the outer door and quickly whispered in her ear. “Fuck, they’re beginning. Listen to me. I’ll find a way to get you out. Be ready. Watching. Waiting,” he gasped. “Everything is in a form of sevens. As mediator, I’m allowed to be with you, to monitor your resolve, offer you a way out. The entire ritual lasts thirty-four hours.”
Chapter Twelve
The door opened.
Sarah waited for the fear but it didn’t come. “I’m ready.”
A robed man led them through a doorway. Micah said all the Siftings were tailored to each individual, playing on their fears and weaknesses. But usually, they all had a common denominator. Sarah entered the small room and the man gestured to a table. “Your first test comes with all the riches you could ever want. This is merely a taste of it, of course. For you and seven generations after. They will be cared for like kings and queens.”
Sarah regarded the long row of trays stuffed with cash, precious metals and gems. She paused. “Why is there a Bible?”
“You must choose your God.”
Sarah went to the table and picked up the bible, kissed it, then regarded the rest. Anger suddenly flashed through her. That they would compare God’s worth to money was an insult. She dumped the entire table over, sending their precious garbage crashing to the floor.
The man’s movements were jerky and flustered as he glanced from her to Micah.
“Please tell me there were other Christians that passed this sad test,” Sarah said, watching the man act as though he’d never seen such a thing.
“Yes,” Micah said. “Just…not quite like that, and not so quickly.”
Sarah looked at the Bible in her hands and went to the corner with it, excitement racing through her. This was a sign from God. She’d been praying since she knew her fate that she’d read more of the Word. She’d gotten away from it. She used to know so many versus by heart, and now, she had a copy right here in her hands. She opened it to make sure it wasn’t a trick. It wasn’t. It was real. She kissed it again, thanking Him for the miracle. That’s what it was.
She became aware of the silence and looked up and found both of them gawking at her.
The man looked at Micah. “I shall…go and prepare the next phase.”
Sarah returned to reading as fast as she could, feeling like she were cramming for the most important test in her life. She was aware that Micah just watched her. She wanted to know what he was thinking, but she’d found another sign. “So do not fear,
for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.’ Isaiah 41:10. And this, ‘All who rage against you will surely be ashamed and disgraced; those who oppose you will be as nothing and perish.’”
Micah came up to her and pulled her into his arms, squeezing her tight, his mouth buried on her cheek. “You are so beautiful.” He stroked her cheek, staring into her eyes. “I am very envious of your god. To have something so precious. I could never be good enough for you.” Tears filled his eyes. “But I would love you with all of my heart soul and breath, Sarah, I would.”
Sarah’s heart shredded at hearing it. Hearing he thought this was something she could just negotiate. She didn’t expect him to understand but she hated to hear he thought she had the power to fix this. This was out of her hands. “Micah?”
“What?” He stroked her brow.
“I need you to promise me something.”
“Anything baby.”
She swallowed, knowing it wasn’t fair to ask. And how hard it would be. But this wasn’t her doing, nor was it easy for her. “Help me stay strong? Please don’t…don’t let me cave. If you love me, help me stay strong. Don’t let them take my faith, Micah. I don’t blame you that I’m here, but I’m asking that you at least…honor my choice.”
He hugged her to him tight, sobbing. “Fuck, listen to me. What comes next is hard. They start with something easy then hit with something to try and break you quickly. If you pass the next test, then you are a worthy sacrifice.” Shame and fear filled his thick voice. “But I’m going to find a way out, I can’t let them hurt you. I can’t.”
Sa
rah put her fingers on his lips and nodded. “I know you will do your best.” She smiled and nodded through her tears. “No matter what happens, I know that you love me. Okay?”
He crushed her in his embrace, his entire body heaving. “Pray to your god baby,” he gasped. “Please ask him to save you. Don’t be a martyr,” he choked out.
“I’m praying, I promise.” But if he wanted her to be a martyr, then that’s what she’d pray for strength for. She preferred to live and be with Micah, and she’d let God know that as well. And trust him with what was best.
Sarah broke from his hold and went back to her corner and scanned the pages, needing to read. She read out loud, her voice shaking. “For I am the LORD your God, who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you.’
She scanned the Bible and devoured verse after verse, feeling stronger with each one. “Micah, here.” She handed him the book and pointed to the passage. “This. Read it.”
He looked at her, silently begging she leave him to think of a plan. She shoved the Bible into his chest. “Please Micah. I’m not asking you to trust God, but I need you to read this.”
Micah stared at the Bible for endless seconds. As if it were her head on a platter, he finally took it, appearing sick. With every passage Micah read, warmth spread in Sarah. She soon realized what the warmth was. Desire. Hearing God’s word on his tongue was creating an insane passion inside her. Was it the trauma? Was this a coping mechanism? She wasn’t sure, but she was sure the fire was growing as she listened. He seemed to be losing himself in the power hidden in those passages, his voice taking on a curious strength of rough heavenly silk. Sarah suddenly pulled him to her with a gasp, kissing him with a savage hunger.
Her fire immediately lit his and the Bible fell to the floor as his hands hurried to answer her need, devouring all the secret parts of her. They were all his, marked with his touch.
Her dress was large enough that he lifted it and her onto his waist, sinking himself deep inside her. Sarah stifled her cry and pulled his hair, desperation mingling in their every gasp. Micah’s fingers bit into her hair and pulled her head back. “I love you,” she whimpered as his mouth became a vortex of heat on her neck. He began moving inside her, faster, deeper, overwhelming her senses. For a timeless moment, she was some place safe, in Micah’s tight embrace, making love in a faraway place, a small country house on a hillside with a sultry summer breeze and a million more tomorrows.
The sound of the exterior door jolted them back to reality and ended it all. They both scrambled to get decent, Micah, double checking her dress was in order even as the inner door to the room opened.
Sarah’s body trembled from the buzzing pleasure still humming through it as they led her to another cement room. She got a dejavu sensation, like she’d done something similar before. No, seen something similar. Her sister. When she’d gone to have her first baby. The first stages of labor were fun and carefree, but they both knew that very soon, there would be lots of pain and agony since she’d chosen to go natural despite everybody saying she shouldn’t. It seemed foolish, but she had her convictions. Not even Sarah understood it. But she remembered how they joked and laughed while things only hurt a little. And then later, twelve hours of hard labor later, Sarah had to holler at her just to get her sister to focus. She was exhausted and crying. But she refused to take anything. Foolish woman.
And now Sarah’s hard labor loomed around the corner for her. And she just hoped that Micah would be able to help her through it. Her biggest dread was not making it. Caving. Renouncing God. And Micah begging her to.
To her, that was the nightmare she never wanted to live.
Micah’s grip on her hand tightened when they entered the next room. A scary looking table with straps sat in the middle beneath a lone light. Fear hit Sarah at the wires leading to the machine next to it. She recognized that type of machine. They had a similar one in the hospital for electric shock treatments. Oh God.
Micah suddenly grabbed the man’s shoulders. “Please Zane, please don’t do this,” he begged, his voice breaking.
“Master Seven.” The torment in those two words said it all. The man was torn. And stuck. Just like them. For some reason, that made it easier, like she wasn’t alone.
Sarah went to the bed and saw a key.
“Th-that is your choice, you can take the key, it opens the metaphorical door and ends this, ends it right here,” he rasped, sounding desperate. “Master Seven, tell her.” The man all but begged from beneath the hood, his voice gravelly and old sounding.
Micah turned and looked at Sarah. She wasn’t sure what he saw, but he shut his eyes, seeming to fight.
“Help me, Micah,” Sarah gasped, getting more scared. She couldn’t do this alone.
He suddenly lifted her in his arms and walked her to the bed and laid her on it. He began strapping her in, his touch silky and tender. When she was all hooked up and strapped down, he kissed her, soft and lingering. Then he fit the rubber ball in her mouth and strapped it down, his tears gone. He picked up her bible, stepped back and opened it up. And read to her. “The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside quiet waters.”
Sarah gasped on a sob. That Micah had opened the Bible to that verse filled her with hope and courage.
His strong voice reverberated throughout the room, he made it bold and loud just for her. “He restores my soul; He guides me in the paths of righteousness for His name’s sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil, for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.”
Sarah’s body locked up with white heat.
Time disappeared. When it returned, she was aware only that she fought. What was she fighting? A loud noise scraped along her brain like metal rubbing against metal. Then she heard a whispering voice. “You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; You have anointed my head with oil; My cup overflows…” Sarah grasped for the sound and the words, she knew she needed to do that, but why?
She felt a sensation pulling at her from the center of her body, like something was trying to tug her out of her skin. It didn’t hurt, but some part of her said it was bad. She resisted the pull, fighting to hold herself there. Where was she? She was someplace strange. In between something.
A man was crying then. Who was that? Sarah felt sorry for him, he sounded so heart broken. His voice…he meant something to her.
“Sarah!” the man called. “Sarah, please answer me. You fucking killed her!”
She suddenly felt warm fingers ease off of her head and she gasped, realizing she was holding her breath. What was in her mouth? “Micah?” she tried to say.
His face was suddenly on hers, working the obstruction out of her mouth as he sobbed like a little boy. She panicked. What was wrong? “Sarah! Please renounce, please, I fucking beg you, don’t do this, god will forgive you, I know he will, you said yourself he was all good, he will not hold it against you,” he cried.
It all came back to her. What she was doing, where she was. In that room, that torture room. Her body felt numb.
Micah jerked his head around. “No! Not again wait, let me talk to her, don’t fucking touch it, I need to mediate!”
“Yes Master. They want me to Sift this way seven times. At your word.”
Seven?
“Sarah,” Micah whispered brokenly next to her. “Listen to me. God will understand he will, he’s a good, good God, you have to stop, you don’t need to do this, I promise.”
The words strained out, barely audible and Sarah began to cry for him. She was suddenly scared. Scared for Micah, scared for her. She began to cry and wail, “Micah, please, help me, help me, don’t let them have me! Don’t let them take my faith! You promised!”
The door opened and Micah threw himself on her, holding her tight. “Don’t take me. I’m fine! Don’t fucking take me!”
Micah was pried off of her by dar
k figures and the man working the machine fit the rubber ball back in her mouth. “May your god be with you child,” he gasped, his fingers trembling.
Micah fought and screamed, sounding like the man in the hospital when she’d first met him. The sound ripped Sarah’s soul open. But his voice slowly got further away.
Until she was alone. So alone.
Chapter Thirteen
“Please let me go, I beg you, she needs me!” Micah coughed and spit blood, his throat raw.
Finally, Agony showed up and unlocked his shackles. “Agony,” he gasped, desperate. “Help me.”
“Oh stop it,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. “Such an embarrassment to see you behave this way. Come.”
Her tone was cold and Micah knew she hated that he was in love with another woman. For more years than he cared to remember, she flaunted herself at him. And when that didn’t work, she cried to daddy and forced her way. He fucked her ruthlessly, treating her like the filth she was. Her forte was abducting innocent children and harvesting power from their pain, fear, and blood. Micah despised her. “Where is she?”
“She’s in the break room. Until tomorrow. You are allowed to tend to her. Make sure and fix her up for Satan’s sake, we can’t sacrifice a half dead woman.”
Micah’s strength nearly left him at her cold words. He flew into the room and froze. Sarah laid on the floor on her side near the corner, fragile and small in her pretty white dress, dirtied with his life, his sins. Terror weighed him down until he could barely walk. He knelt next to her and stroked her arm, blinking tears away.
She jerked around with wide scared eyes, holding her Bible to her chest. She sat up and looked behind him as though to check he was alone then grabbed his face and kissed him. Micah was frozen in shock. How was she… moving?
She finally pulled away and he examined her body. Her hair stuck up in various places, the skin at her temple was burned, her body trembled like a leaf and yet she sat there with clear blue eyes and a smile on her face.
