by Bryan Smith
He looked at Marnie through eyes misty with fresh tears. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“You beat the shit out of me.” He sniffled at the memory of her fist connecting with his flesh over and over again. The savage twist of her face in those moments would haunt him the rest of his days--assuming he had any days remaining to him beyond this one. “You wouldn’t…stop…”
She nodded. “I had to, Mike. It was the only way I could save face after you rejected us.”
“I don’t understand. I don’t get how you could do that to me. I…” He swallowed hard and forced the words out. “I…love you.”
“I know you do.” That tinge of sadness was back, though this time he wasn’t sure whether it was real. It felt a little like she was back to manipulating him. Or maybe not. Maybe that was just paranoia again. It was hard to tell the difference at this point. “I worked very hard at making you love me.”
“So that’s all it was? Work?”
She shook her head. “Of course not. Nadia tasked me with recruiting the group’s thirteenth member because I’ve always been the best at identifying the special ones, the rare ones who have what it takes to be a part of what we do. After all, I was the one who originally brought her into the fold.”
Mike frowned. “Huh.”
“Does that surprise you?”
Mike would have shrugged had he been capable of it. But his arms were stretched taut to either side, his wrists bound to slats of the brass headboard with lengths of rope. “I guess I just figured this whole conspiracy thing was her idea.”
Marnie shook her head. “No. In fact, it was more or less my idea. I was one of the three original founding members.”
Mike squinted at her. “Say what?”
“You heard me.”
“So what are you telling me, Marnie? You just one day decided to start a satanic cult because…why? It just seemed like a fun thing to do?”
“I did it because I wanted to serve Satan, and because I grew up in the faith. I know that sounds funny to you, but it’s the truth.”
“Not much seems funny to me right now, I can tell you that. So who were the other two originals?”
“Blake was one of them. The other is…no longer with us.”
“What happened to him?”
Marnie smiled. “What happened to her, you mean. You knew her, actually. She used to work with us at the call center. Nicole Simmons.”
Mike stared at her for many long, silent moments while he mulled this over. At first the revelation rendered him almost numb with shock. This gave way to a flare of incendiary anger…which passed in a flash and was replaced again by fear. He let out a breath and said, “Nicole’s dead. An…accident.”
Marnie touched his tender cheek. This time there was something almost pitying in her expression. “Part of that’s right. I’ll let you work out which part.”
“This is crazy. You’re talking about murder.”
Marnie shrugged. “That’s one way of looking at it, if you’re viewing it through the prism of normal society’s rules and regulations.”
“Goddamn, Marnie. What other fucking way is there of viewing it?”
Another shrug. Another brush of her hand across his wounded cheek, with firmer pressure this time, making him wince. “As a justified execution.”
Mike wasn’t sure whether to laugh or scream. He felt like doing a lot of both, actually. “Crazy. Fucking crazy.” He was shaking his head side to side, over and over. His mind was reeling. “You’re not sane, Marnie. Do you know that?”
“Nadia handed down the death decree in her rightful role as leader of the group. Nicole was making preparations to leave us. She let it slip one night while we were up late drinking. Of course I had to tell Nadia. I loved Nicole, but I love the group more.”
Mike’s brow creased. “Did you know Nadia would order her death?”
“Of course. The only way out of the group is death. It’s one of the rules we swear to obey when we pledge our allegiance to Satan and the Diabolical Conspiracy.”
Mike stared at her.
Man, this just doesn’t get any saner.
He searched her face, studying its pleasing contours for anything that might hint at the madness behind the pretty façade. But there was nothing. It was the same face he’d dreamed about for so many months. He thought about how much he’d enjoyed the simple act of talking to her, how often he’d savored that sweetly lilting quality in her voice. Reflecting on that now filled him with a deep, seemingly infinite sadness. He had thought she was a good person. A kind person. But it had all been an act. That person hadn’t actually existed. She was good. Really, really good. It had been an Oscar-worthy performance, for sure. He didn’t even want to talk to her now. Didn’t care about anything she had to say. There was nothing she could tell him that wouldn’t just be more insanity. So his mind was made up. He would lie here quietly, ignoring her until she went away again.
Well, that was his intent…for maybe half a minute.
But something was niggling at his brain.
“Hold on. How is it Nadia is in charge? Why not you or Blake? Surely one of you was the original leader.”
Marnie shook her head. “No. Nicole was our leader in the beginning. But she lost her way.”
Meaning she got tired of playing at being a devil worshipper, most likely.
“Nadia was always my finest discovery. She saw how things were going wrong and challenged Nicole. A vote was called. Nicole lost.”
“And died.”
Marnie nodded. “Yes. And died. It was the right move. The Diabolical Conspiracy has never been stronger. With Nadia at the helm, we are close to achieving many of our most important goals.”
Mike considered querying her about the nature of those goals, but decided it was pointless. He’d only get more of that vague nonsense about doing evil stuff and didn’t have the patience for listening to any more of that bullshit.
Marnie’s hand came away from his face and moved slowly down the length of his torso, stopping at the crotch of his jeans, where she cupped him and…squeezed.
Mike thought, Wait just a second here. This is…interesting.
Marnie smiled. “You like?”
Before he could answer, she squeezed him again, applying more pressure as she elicited a helpless groan from him.
She laughed. “You like.”
Mike heaved a breath.
He liked. He liked a hell of a lot.
But even as he savored the sensations caused by her physical ministrations, he was cognizant of being manipulated yet again. She was too aware of how intensely he desired her and obviously had no qualms about exploiting that desire. On one level, it galled him that he could fall prey to those desires after all she had done. The more noble part of him screamed at him to rebel against what was happening, to fill his head with thoughts of the most un-erotic things he could imagine. But it wasn’t working. She was too good. Too pretty. Too…too Marnie. She kept working at him and very soon had coaxed him to rigid, painful hardness.
Then her hand came away from him and her expression was carefully blank again. “Would you like to know why I’m doing this, Mike? Why I’m even talking to you?”
He was breathing hard and had to swallow a lump in his throat before he could speak again. “Not really. You’re probably gonna tell me anyway, though.”
She leaned over him, putting her face very close to his. He felt her breath against his cheeks and had to choke down another lump in his throat. “I had a talk with Nadia while you were unconscious. Haven’t you wondered why you’re tied to this bed? Why you’re not dead yet?”
Mike let out a breath and struggled to focus on what she was saying. She was so close now. Almost close enough to kiss. The force of his desire for her was making him almost cross-eyed. “I…I guess it…crossed my mind.”
She shifted her position on the bed, stretching her body out as she rolled half onto him and angled a thigh against his s
wollen crotch. “I was pleading your case, Mike. I’ve been authorized to give you one last chance to join us.”
She writhed against him, making him groan again.
Mike blew out another breath and said, “Jesus.”
“Has nothing to do with this and don’t you forget it.” She nipped at his bottom lip and smiled at the way this made him shiver. “Would you like another chance?”
Mike thought about it. He still had no interest in joining up with a bunch of whacked out Satanists. But maybe he could play along with it for a while if it meant he could be with Marnie. He didn’t believe she would suddenly become his girlfriend if he agreed to this, but it seemed likely she would at least let him have sex with her now and then if she believed it would cement his loyalty to the group. And maybe that would be good enough. It would be better than nothing. And it sure as hell would beat being dead.
She kissed him, darted her tongue between his swollen lips, and laughed. “Come on, Mike. What do you say?”
“What happens if I say no?”
“You know the answer to that.”
He guessed he did. The same thing that had happened to Nicole. A staged accident of some kind. Or maybe he would just disappear. “And if I say yes?”
She kissed him again, harder now, pressing her breasts against his chest. Her face was slightly flushed as her moist lips came away from his own. “Then you get initiated into the group. You get to live.” Her voice was huskier. She peppered his neck with light kisses. “And you get to make love to me.”
Mike closed his eyes and groaned “Well…that sounds…wonderful. And it’s as simple as just agreeing to this?”
Marnie’s face came away from his neck. Her cheeks were still flushed, but her expression was more solemn now. “Well…there is a condition.”
“Anything. I’ll do anything, Marnie. Just don’t stop kissing me.”
A small smile touched the edges of her mouth. “It’s a pretty big condition, Mike.”
“Just tell me. Please. And then get back to what you were doing.”
There was an almost playful glint in her eyes now. “You sure you want to know?”
Mike was becoming frustrated. “Yes.”
Marnie laughed. It was that same lilting, almost musical tone he remembered from their many long late-night conversations. How he had missed hearing it. She was definitely playing with him now.
And he loved it.
“You’re positive?”
“Marnie, for the love of God, just spill it.”
“For the love of Satan, you mean.”
“Fine. For the love of Satan. For the love of whatever the hell makes you happy. Just tell me and end my fucking misery.”
Marnie smiled again. “Okay, Mike. Here it is. In order to earn another chance, you have to show us how serious you are and there’s only one way to do that.”
“Which is?”
Her expression changed again, the playfulness draining away. “You have to kill someone for us.”
He gaped at her for a moment. Then he closed his mouth and swallowed. “What?”
“You heard me. You have to kill someone. You have to take another human being’s life. And you have to do it tonight. Can you do that, Mike?” She put her face close to his again, so close the tips of their noses touched. “Can you do that for me?”
Mike couldn’t say anything right away.
His mind was reeling again.
He felt lightheaded.
“Say you’ll kill for me, Mike.” Her voice had become husky again. Her lips were nearly touching his as she breathed the words. “Say it, Mike. Say you’ll kill for me.”
4.
He told her what she wanted to hear. Of course he did. What else could he have done? The only other option, apparently, was immediate execution and he wasn’t ready for that just yet. He had no desire to cause the death of another person, but merely saying he would do the deed didn’t make him a bad guy or a murderer. Not yet. What it would do was maybe buy him a little time. Time he could use to possibly brainstorm an alternate way out of this mess.
It was a great idea in theory, but what Marnie did after he told her he would kill for her was so pleasurably distracting it made thinking about anything other than what she was doing impossible. She congratulated him on the wise decision and slithered down his torso to his crotch, where she opened his jeans and proceeded to do things with her mouth that made stars explode in his head. Hell, not just stars, but whole constellations. By the time he came, he felt like maybe he really could kill someone for her, which was probably the point. It was just more manipulation, but this time he really didn’t give a damn. His head was swimming and it was impossible to think straight. Beaten mercilessly and later blown expertly by the same woman in the same night. It was goddamn surreal.
She worked fast after that, freeing him from his bonds and hustling him out of the guest bedroom and down a hallway toward the door to the garage. He got a glimpse of the living room through an archway as they hurried down the hallway. The living room looked so normal, so deceptively middle class, with the usual array of nice but not terribly expensive furniture. There was nothing about it that screamed, Beware! Satanists live here! Adjacent to the living room was a small foyer. The front door was there. From his vantage point, the living room appeared empty, which made him think the rest of them were back in the garage. Marnie was gripping him lightly by an elbow. As he glimpsed the empty living room, an impulse to dash through that archway and make a run for it flashed through his mind. But Marnie must have sensed this because she tightened her grip on his arm in the same instant. He still might have jerked his arm free and tried for a getaway, but resurgent fear coupled with a case of paralyzing indecisiveness settled the matter. So he relaxed and let her guide him to the door at the end of the hallway and out to the garage.
The metal folding chairs were still arranged in a loose circle, but at the moment they were mostly empty. Nadia was the only one sitting, and she had her nose in a large, leather-bound book as he and Marnie reentered the garage. She didn’t look up or otherwise acknowledge them as they returned. The other Satanists were standing near a table at the rear of the garage. The table was against the back wall. Upon it rested an assortment of refreshments, including bags of various kinds of potato chips, bowls of dip, and plates filled with cookies, doughnuts, and cake. Beneath the table were two large coolers containing cans of soft drinks and bottles of beer. Mike was amused by how quaintly mundane the scene appeared. It was like they were attending a PTA or neighborhood association meeting rather than a congregation of Satanists. Few of them would fit anyone’s idea of how members of a cult dedicated to furthering the cause of evil would look. Nadia did sort of fit the bill, with her black attire and almost ghostly pallor. She also looked like she would be right at home amongst a coven of witches or whatever you called a bunch of vampires who got together and talked shop.
The sight of the glistening bottles of beer floating in ice made Mike’s mouth water and he considered helping himself to one, but Marnie had other plans. She steered him toward the circle of chairs and told him to have a seat.
“Could I please have a beer?”
She touched the side of his head and ruffled his hair in a gesture that felt genuinely affectionate. Strange for someone who had made it clear she wouldn’t hesitate to hurt or even kill him if necessary. “Maybe later. Stay there.”
She left him then and joined the others at the rear of the garage. He looked across the circle at Nadia, whose attention was still focused on the oversized book. There was a large silver pentagram on the front of the book. Some kind of satanic text, Mike supposed. He wondered what kind of information it contained. Demonic summoning spells, maybe? Chapters on the basic principles of Satanism? Probably all that and a lot more. It looked like a very old book. The covers were weathered and the pages looked brittle with age. He had a feeling it wasn’t the kind of book you’d find on the shelves of a chain bookstore. His gut told him there
weren’t many like it in the world. It was maybe even one of a kind. He had no factual information to base this on, but somehow it felt right. The book Nadia was reading was the kind of rare relic handed down through the ages, from one generation of cult leaders to the next.
“So…what’s that you’re reading?”
Nadia didn’t lift her eyes from the page. “Shut up.”
Though the volume of her voice was low, the words conveyed an undeniable weight and strength. He closed his mouth, deciding it wouldn’t be wise to even verbally acknowledge the command.
His gaze went to the rear of the garage again. Aside from the occasional quick sidelong glance, no one else was watching him either. So he shifted slightly on the chair and craned his neck around to check out the rest of the garage. The garage door was closed and someone had blacked out the narrow windows inset in the metal at eye-level with spray paint. There were no cars in the garage, presumably to make room for tonight’s meeting. But an examination of the cement floor made him wonder about that. It was virtually spotless, with no oil stains in sight. Weird. Did Nadia never park her car in here? Mike lived in an apartment and frequently had to park at the curb on public streets. If he had a garage of his own, he would sure as hell use it for its intended purpose.
“Look at me.”
Mike jerked in his seat at the sound of Nadia’s voice. She was looking right at him. The big book was closed now. She held it in her lap, with her slender forearms folded over its cover. Good lord, but the woman looked delicious. And glamorous, as if she had just returned from a photo shoot for a fashion magazine. He was again struck by how perfect everything about her seemed. Hair, makeup, outfit…everything. Why she was slumming it with a bunch of small town Satanists rather than living it up in some Manhattan or Parisian penthouse was completely mysterious to him.
“Do you find me an enigma?”
Mike shivered.
There she went with that spooky mind-reading shit again.
“Uh…yeah. I guess I do.”
“Good.”
