Reign of Ruin

by Bene, Jennifer

  Panic seized her chest as a terrible feeling swirled in her stomach. Something worse than death was closing in, she knew it, and the gentle priest was going to lead her to it.

  The road to hell is paved with good intentions.

  “No, ple—” Danielle grabbed onto the priest’s robe as her voice broke, trying to make him understand, to make him see, but he ripped his sleeve away and stared aghast at her actions. She pressed her palms together to beg, or pray. Whatever he wanted if only he would stop it.

  He answered her with a slap, not anywhere near as hard as the others that had chastised her, but it still stung and shattered whatever meek flare of hope had been born at his presence. She didn’t bother touching the mark on her cheek. Bowing her head, Danielle clasped her hands together in her lap, hard enough that the tendons stood out in stark relief. Still, he tsk’d. “It would be a terrible disappointment if I had to take you to the chain room for your behavior instead of bringing you to the cardinals. The punishment would be severe.”

  It was a threat, a reminder to behave that she hadn’t needed in so long, but for once that dank room filled with old chains and manacles didn’t sound like a bad alternative. Whatever waited for her with the cardinals would be worse — and at least she knew the horrors that came after the chains.

  “Nonsense. She doesn’t need to go to the chain room, she’s been very obedient. It’s likely just the excitement of being woken up so rapidly.” The man turned to her, still wearing that sick smile. “She is blessed.”

  The priest turned to scrutinize her, his soft brown eyes moving over her face as if he wanted to read her soul, or whatever was left of it. After a moment, he spoke in the gentle tone she’d come to expect from him. “What do you want, my child?”

  A pointless question. A question he didn’t even want an answer for… not really. The gentle priest was no different from the others. No, there was no good left here. Maybe there was no one good left anywhere, and this was truly Hell. A place where there was no salvation, no grace, no God. Swallowing, her throat felt a little less stiff, but her voice remained quiet and scratchy as she forced out the only answer they wanted to hear from her. “To serve.”

  “Good.” The priest smiled, and it looked warm and genuine even though it was a lie. “We all make mistakes, child, and God forgives us in his limitless grace and love.”

  As ill as it made her, Danielle nodded.

  Chapter 6

  The walls were damp as they descended another set of stairs, although these were stone and seemed to take longer with their tight coil. Escorted in front and behind, with the gentle priest leading and the cruel one following, Danielle wondered if she slipped on the next damp step if the tumble would break her neck. The ache between her thighs was unrelenting, a consistent throb that reminded her of what the man had done, of what still felt so wrong inside her. It could all end if she fell. Just a slight lean forward, an angle of her foot. It was tempting, and she even tested the slickness of a stair, but then she saw firelight reflecting off the walls.

  Then there were no more stairs to tumble down. Her chance lost.

  Two men in large black cloaks, faces obscured by the hoods, waited at the bottom between twin torches. Beyond the reach of the flickering firelight was darkness, and if there had ever been a gateway to damnation — this had to be it.

  “I was told to bring this woman to the cardinals,” the gentle priest said, but as he stepped forward one of the men raised his hand, stopping him.

  The other pointed at her, and then turned his flat palm to the ceiling and beckoned her forward with a single bend of his fingers. She was frozen, something beyond fear snaking down her spine and gripping tight.

  “They will take her the rest of the way, father.” It was the cruel priest, and she felt his warm hand in the small of her back as he nudged her forward.

  Danielle moved robotically, taking small steps towards the dark figures, and when she risked a glance at the gentle priest he was still staring into the darkness as if he longed to walk into it.

  Insane, they’re all insane.

  As soon as she was close enough to the men, they each grabbed their torch and began to move down the hall that looked to be carved directly from the rock. Large crosses, outlined in shining gold thread, decorated the backs of their cloaks. A robe she had never seen inside Eden, and she wondered if these large men were priests as well, or something else. Something worse.

  “Remember, my child, God honors those who serve,” the gentle priest said before he turned and followed the other up the stairs. Danielle stayed where she was, torn between the urge to follow him up the stairs — damn the consequences — or do as she was told and pray that it earned her some form of leniency. Some respite from the pain that she knew waited for her in the black.

  The growing brightness on the walls around her made her turn, and sure enough one of the cloaked figures was returning to fetch her. Bowing her head, she clasped her hands in front and walked to meet him. When he didn’t begin walking again, she was sure he would strike her, punish her for the disobedience, but the void inside the hood only stared for a moment longer before he turned away.

  This time, Danielle followed. A little slower than their long strides, but she was close enough to see them use a key to open the thick wooden door at the end. The hum of voices coming from within pulled her forward, the brighter light teasing her curiosity until she stepped through the doorway and into a massive room.

  Black walls at least three stories tall towered above her, with beautiful pilasters carved directly from the stone. Ornate details in the walls and ceiling were highlighted by the flickering firelight from an immense fireplace at one end of the room. Even from so far away, she could feel the heat, and her feet turned towards it on instinct. Now the cloaked men were following her as she approached the long, oval table where men sat drinking and eating. A round of laughter rolled over them, and then they slowly fell quiet as one by one they turned to watch her approach.

  Delicious scents hit her nose, strange for a moment until she placed them. Cooked meat and fresh bread. Saliva pooled in her mouth, her stomach rumbling, all fear replaced by raw hunger.

  “Are you hungry, my child?” The first man to stand from the table was hard to see with the glare of firelight behind him, but he spoke like a priest. She wanted to nod, to say yes, to beg for the food.

  But nothing is free in this place.

  Meals were only earned through service. Mistakes and failures were punished with pain and hunger. There was no other way inside Eden, and for food like this she would have submitted without hesitation… but her body was wrong. The cruel priest had done something horrible, and no matter how much she wanted to remember the taste of bread — it wouldn’t be worth it, even if she managed to keep it down after they were done.

  “Come here.” Another of the men spoke, turning in his seat to beckon her forward, but her feet wouldn’t carry her closer. They were all dressed in rich red fabrics, more vibrant than she’d ever seen outside her hazy memories.

  The cardinals.

  Her core clenched, a dull cramp that awakened the lingering ache and made her press her thighs together. As several more cardinals stood, she swallowed the saliva in her mouth and took a step back.

  “Bring her,” a voice commanded. It was the cardinal at the far end of the table, the one sitting in a large chair with a high back. Like a throne, it caught the firelight with glints of gold in places. His command had silenced the others, and it was the two cloaked men who followed his order.

  Each arm caught in a vice-like grip, there was no fighting their strength as they hauled her forward, half-lifting her from the ground when she stumbled. They dumped her at the feet of the cardinal, knees bruising on the stone floor as she stared at his crimson slippers. Not thick boots like the men she was called to serve, or plain black shoes like the priests, but scarlet, soft-looking slippers.

  “My child, you are here to fulfill a great service to God. What
do you say?”

  It was a line from the priests’ scripts, but she had no doubt this was where those words had come from. These men who ate luxuriously in fine clothes, hidden underneath the hell they had built. Long, frail fingers touched under her chin, lifting her eyes to his. A faded green in a much older face, creased by time, although he looked healthier than anyone else in these walls.

  “What do you say?” he repeated.

  “Tha—” Her weak voice cracked, and she swallowed. “Thank you, God.” It wasn’t much better, still scratchy and the fact that her voice broke on the last word felt appropriate.

  The cardinal smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yes, we must always thank God for his grace and his love. Without it, we would all be lost. Without it, Eden would not exist as the last place for salvation. Here, my child, drink to ease your thirst.”

  A shining goblet was offered, filled with a red liquid to match the man’s robes. Wine. Another flickering memory, like a picture in a book, only now it was in her hands. Bowing her head, she whispered the correct prayer of thanks, almost inaudible, but she hoped it was enough to get to keep it. To taste it. When she lifted it to her lips, she waited for someone to stop her, but they just watched as she tipped it up and drank.

  “So pious, she prays before she drinks.”

  “The divine has chosen well.”

  “We are blessed for God to have sent her to us.”

  Danielle ignored their voices even as they came closer, drinking until she’d emptied the goblet. Soft laughter came from a few of them as she bowed her head and held it up where the cardinal could take it back.

  “Here, my child. Have mine.” Another large glass was offered, less ornate, but she dipped her head and began to drink it as well. Before she was done, the cardinal took it back. “Oh, not too much. It is watered wine, but in a delicate flower like you… moderation is best.”

  “Taste this instead.” A hand studded with two large golden rings moved into her vision, a shining piece of meat held in pinched fingers. The smell of it had her leaning forward to accept it, open-mouthed as the grease and salt touched her tongue. Danielle closed her eyes and moaned low, greedily sucking his fingers for just one more taste. It was a hundred times better than the warm soup. A complete kaleidoscope of flavor.

  The next offered her warm, soft bread, another something small and dark that was incredibly sweet. On her knees beside the cardinal’s throne, she let them feed her like an animal. Licking fingers, sucking them into her mouth, unabashed as they rubbed over her tongue and her belly gradually became full for the first time since she’d awoken in Eden.

  “That’s enough. We don’t want to make her sick on so much of God’s bounty.” The head cardinal ran his thin fingers through her hair, plucking at the knots.

  Danielle almost whined but nodded instead. “Thank you, father,” she replied softly, surprised to hear her voice without the strain.

  “You sound much better, my child.” Patting her cheek, he smiled and touched her shoulder. “Stand so the council may see you fully.”

  There was a tingling warmth spreading out from her belly that ebbed the fear she’d felt when their eyes had first landed on her and, as she stood, she peeked at them through her hair. This time their smiles seemed less dangerous, but nothing good lasted long in Eden.

  “Here in our sanctuary you have been shielded from the horrors of the world, my child,” the cardinal said, but he was looking across the table at the others as he told what must have been a joke.

  Did the man have any idea what happened to women upstairs?

  “Our enemies are wicked, evil men that have given themselves over to the Devil in their hunger for power. It is why Eden must be protected through whatever means God provides, for Eden is the last chance for salvation. We are the last line of defense in the holy war to ensure God wins dominion over the earth.” The speech was made in a strong voice, echoing off the ceiling as his words rang down the long room, and beneath her feet Danielle could have sworn she felt the floor rumble.

  Sounds of agreement came from each of the cardinals, many saying ‘Amen’ as they made the sign of the cross. When their gazes returned to her, she bowed her head and clasped her hands, faking prayer as she avoided the stares and tried to forget the hunger she’d seen in their eyes.

  “This evening, God has provided us with Danielle. A fitting name, my child.” The head cardinal clapped his hands twice, and a string of men in the same dark cloaks as before walked out from the shadows on the edges of the room. Platters and plates were cleared away, leaving only the large containers of wine and the cardinals’ goblets.

  “Thank you, father,” she whispered, eyes tracking the dishes. Turning in place, she watched the men disappear with the food, mourning the loss as a smaller table was carried out. Round, it seemed to be made of stone, and was heavy enough that it took six of the cloaked men to place it between the long table and the fireplace.

  “Do you know what your name means?” the cardinal asked.

  “No, father.”

  “I will tell you.” Another warm smile that didn’t meet his eyes, even as he stood and extended his hand to her. She stared at it for a moment, wary. No priest had ever offered her his hand, and this was a cardinal. The cardinal, which meant that refusing it would be worse than whatever would happen when she laid her hand in his.

  As soon as she did, he caught her hand in a grip much stronger than she expected, leading her around his throne to the round table. The gray stone had carvings in it, symbols and words she didn’t recognize around the edge, and one large symbol carved in the center. It looked ancient, worn smooth by time, where even the edges of the carvings had a slight slope to them.

  “Danielle means God is my judge, and you have been judged, my child. Judged and chosen to be part of this world’s salvation.” The intense look in his eyes had her stepping back slightly, but his grip tightened painfully and she whimpered. “Do not be afraid. God honors those who serve him.”

  “Let us bless you, child.” Another cardinal took her other arm, pulling her toward the table, and she shook her head.

  “You must give your thanks with all of your self,” said another from behind, and then there were multiple hands on her, pushing and pulling her until even when she tried to struggle, she was overpowered.

  “Please…” she whispered to the towering ceiling as they held her down to the stone. The heat of the fire was glorious on her skin, but it couldn’t reach the hollow cold settling in her belly.

  Everything in Eden comes with a price.

  Chapter 7

  Three of the cloaked men arrived with manacles and chains, and most of the cardinals stepped back to allow them to move her. One of them shackled her arms above her head, and the other two did the same to her ankles, running the chains through points beneath the table that bent her knees and kept her thighs spread painfully wide. When they were finished adjusting the lengths, her ass rested at the very lip of the table, and there was no give, no way out, no escape.

  “Don’t cry, my child. This is a blessing. So few are ever chosen to receive this second baptism, and the holy blessings we give you will protect your body and soul.” The head cardinal trailed his gaze down to settle between her thighs where she felt her core clench tighter. “It is why you had to be purified, made new. Only the pure can be blessed.”

  “I’m not—”

  “Shh, child. God has chosen you.” One of the cardinals laid his fingers over her lips, and when she tried to explain again, about the calls to service and the cruel priest, he moved his whole hand over her mouth and held it there firmly.

  “Let us pray,” the head cardinal said, laying his palms on her thighs as he stepped closer to the table. “God, give us the strength to baptize this woman of Eden. To mark her as one protected by the house of the Lord, and to cloak her in the power of the holy.”

  What could he possibly want to protect her from?

  What could be worse than what she
knew they would do to her?

  The cardinal lifted his hands from her thighs, looking out at the others. “Fathers, I remind all of us that God shall never give us more temptation than we can handle, for in this we must serve him well.”

  “Amen,” they chorused around her, and then two of the black cloaked men stepped forward to remove the elaborate crimson robe from the head cardinal. She couldn’t see him well with her head pinned to the table, but once his skin was bared she could hear the sound of his hand working his cock and the low groan in his chest. Another cardinal pressed his hand into her lower belly, and she whined.

  The lightest brush of her clit summoned liquid heat, and someone dragged their finger through her folds, spreading the wetness. She could only hope it made some difference to what the other bastard had done to her in his fucked-up version of a hospital.

  “Give your pain to God,” the head cardinal said as he lined up and then thrust in hard, tearing into her with one vicious spike of agony. Her scream was muffled by the hand over her lips, body pinned to the stone beneath her as the man pulled back and thrust again. Just as horrible, she wailed, finally able to voice the torment as her entrance was forced open and her inner walls seized and cramped. “Yesss…”—he groaned—“your purity, your suffering, is what will make the blessing strong, my child.”

  ‘Bullshit!’ she wanted to scream. There was no purity left in her, not after every violent, debased thing that had been done to her inside Eden. She’d been fucked in every way imaginable, used and defiled, and it didn’t matter that their baptisms healed her skin — nothing could heal the damage inside. The shattered pieces of the person she had been before their ‘sanctuary.’ Before this nightmare.

  Hell. She was in Hell, and no prayer from their lips or hers would stop this torture or save any of them. God wasn’t watching. God, if he had ever existed, was dead.

  “Yes, my child…” The head cardinal started to thrust more quickly, the pain a vibrant, horrifying pulse between her thighs as he slammed into her again and again. Grunting and praying in stilted words as she cried uselessly. Finally, he pulled free and she felt the first warm drops of his seed land on her belly just before someone stroked her clit in quick circles and she arched off the stone as the orgasm possessed her.