by Hart, Stella
I took a moment to steady myself, then continued. “Please believe me. Please help me. For Elena. For all those who were killed in the unsolved terrorist attack here eleven years ago. Our mothers and siblings and friends. All those who would’ve stood up to the evil men here and stopped this from happening… only they couldn’t. But you can. So whoever you are… please find it in your heart to help.”
Mason nodded at me and put the camera down. Then he pulled me into his arms. I sobbed and sobbed, desperate and broken.
“It’s okay,” he muttered. “It’ll all be okay soon.”
“I know. Thank you,” I murmured, pulling back. I sat on the trestle table and dabbed at my eyes with my sleeve. “I don’t know what would’ve happened if you never came here.”
“Don’t think about that. Just think about our plan. Think about how close we are. Say it out loud. It’ll make you feel better.”
“Okay.” I nodded. “You have everything stored in your motel room on a computer. Tomorrow morning you’ll go there and collate it all. Then you’ll call the FBI and tell them what you’re sending them.”
“That’s right. I’m also going to upload your video to something called YouTube.”
I was about to reply when I heard something at the door. A scuffing sound. Like someone was there, listening in.
“Oh no.” I felt as if my lungs were filling with water. Even the smallest breaths made me feel like I was pushing up a lead weight on my chest.
“What’s wrong?” Mason’s brows wrinkled.
“I think someone was at the door listening.”
“These doors are thick. I don’t think anyone would’ve heard,” he said.
I knew he was probably right. I was just paranoid. But given the circumstances, why wouldn’t I be?
I rushed over to the door and unlocked it, opening it just a crack. Relief flooded me instantly, a sugary rush through my veins. There was a person in the hall, but it was just Lauren, humming as she carried a large basket of dirty sheets down to the other end. She was on her way to the washing room.
“It’s okay. It was just Lauren walking past with some laundry,” I said.
Mason smiled. “See? Everything’s fine.”
I nodded and drew in another deep, calming breath. “Could you explain this internet thing to me again?” I asked. “I’m sorry, I know I’ve heard it a hundred times. It’s just so confusing. So much new information.”
“I’ll explain it a thousand times if it helps,” Mason said, gently patting me on the shoulder. “Do you remember emails?”
I wrinkled my forehead. “It sounds familiar.”
“It’s sending a message from one person to another, using a computer.”
“I think I remember that now,” I said slowly. “My mom had an email address. She used it to send messages to her friends.”
“That’s right. You have to have a virtual address to do that.” He nodded encouragingly. “Anyway, emails are sent via the internet on a computer. It’s like a giant global network. Every computer can connect to this network and ‘talk’ with other computers. But not just via email. You can put anything you want on there, and anyone else can see it, if they look in the right place.”
“How many people have the internet?”
Mason twisted his lips. “Not sure on exact numbers, but I’d say more than ninety percent of the US population uses it regularly.”
My eyes almost popped out of my head on stalks. “Really? So all those people will see my video?”
“No. Not everyone will see it. But a lot will. It’s called…” He trailed off, his face suddenly darkening. “Did you hear that?”
I shook my head. “No. It could be Lauren again, I suppose.”
“It was probably nothing. I’m being paranoid now.” He chuckled, but I could tell it was forced.
I was closer to the door, so I decided to take another peek out there, just to make sure there was no one around. I looked to the left. Lauren was long gone, and the hall was empty. Then I looked to the right, which I hadn’t done before.
Tension turned my body rigid. Martha was standing there, peeking around the corner. When she saw that I’d spotted her, she pursed her lips and ducked away.
I felt cold panic rise in me like floodwaters. My breaths came shallow and rapidly as fear whipped through me, my own personal hurricane, and I slammed the door shut and crumpled to the ground, willing the primal surge to flee.
“What is it?” Mason asked, sinking down to my level.
“Martha Chase,” I whispered. “I think she was eavesdropping.”
“Jolie,” he said, massaging my shoulders. “I really don’t think she could’ve heard through the door.”
“But she might’ve,” I said miserably. “There’s a tiny chance.”
“I told you, I’m gonna keep you safe. Always. Even if she turns us in, I won’t let anything happen to you. You know that.”
I nodded. He was right. As long as he was alive, I would be safe. Even in the jaws of darkness and despair.
Besides, Martha seemed to have softened recently. Several weeks ago, she narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips at the sight of Mason and me practically kissing onstage during Faith Formation, but she didn’t say anything about it to my father or the Elders.
She wouldn’t turn us in for this. Like Mason said, she probably hadn’t heard anything, and even if she did, it couldn’t have been more than a few words.
Or so I hoped.
I gulped and shakily got to my feet, aided by Mason. He smoothed my hair down and smiled. “You won’t have to wait much longer. First thing tomorrow morning, I’ll send all the stuff in and upload it online.” He frowned. “Actually, why don’t you come with me for that? I hate the idea of leaving you here, even for a few hours.”
I closed my eyes for a moment, letting his strength seep into me. Then I shook my head. “No, I should stay here. If I’m gone when everyone wakes up, they’ll get suspicious, and like you said the other week, we don’t want anyone to know what’s happening until the FBI is banging the door down. Otherwise who knows what the men might do to save themselves?”
“You sure you feel okay with staying?”
“Yes. You were right before,” I said. “Once the authorities and public see what’s happening out here, they’ll move fast, so it won’t be much longer till everyone is safe.”
“Yeah.” He smiled again, pulling me tightly against him. “One more day,” he murmured. “Just one more day.”
17
Jolie
“There’s another plane.”
Mason handed me something to look through so I could get a better view of the airplanes in the night sky. He’d brought me up here again to show me more.
As I squinted through the device, I saw the flashing red lights transform before my very eyes. This was no plane. It was the glinting eye of a demon.
It rose in the inky blackness, revealing its unspeakably hideous face and a mass of red limbs terminating in claws as sharp as swords. The red glint in the eyes vanished until the only way to describe them was a complete absence of light. Not just terrifying blackness; there was now nothing at all in those sockets. A plane of non-existence. Despite that, I knew the creature could somehow still see me.
It opened its mouth to reveal rows and rows of teeth, eerily incandescent, emitting a red glow.
I screamed and dropped the black viewing device. “Mason, what is that?” I cried, turning back to him.
But he wasn’t Mason anymore. At least not the man I thought I knew. His hazel eyes had turned red, and he’d grown two feet taller. His teeth had sharpened into fangs, and he was covered in washes of blood. Somehow I knew it wasn’t his own.
“What’s wrong, baby girl?” he asked, holding up a black serpent with glowing yellow eyes. It hissed at me, baring its fangs. “I thought you loved this stuff. I thought you wanted it.”
“No!”
I tried to run, but I was suddenly surrounded by a ring of fire.
Trapped. I turned back to Mason to plead for my life, and I found him writhing on the ground with hundreds of hissing snakes.
“Please stop this!” I cried.
I tried to run again, hoping I could survive the flames long enough to escape the fiery ring. Mason got up and followed me, his snakes slithering beside him. He was far more powerful than me. I couldn’t outrun him or subdue him. He tackled me to the ground and lifted a red-hot brand. I screamed as he brought it down on my flesh. An upside down cross.
“This is what you wanted,” Mason hissed. He had the same glowing yellow eyes as the snakes now. “This is what you invited in.”
Pain and misery enveloped me. The world was aquiver, tearing at the edges. I heard the screams of my fellow Path of the Covenant members as they burned underground, set ablaze by Mason’s minions.
I wasn’t breathing anymore. A snake was in my mouth. A blinding light exploded across the universe, and I choked as the serpent moved into my body, ripping me apart from the inside out. A scream tore from my chest and dark shadows fell, washing away the blinding brilliance of the sky.
I woke with a scream, my face damp with perspiration. “Just a dream,” I told myself in a low whisper, trying to steady my racing pulse. “It was just a dream...”
Though I couldn’t actually remember the nightmares I’d had every other night for the last few weeks—all I recalled was a feeling of terror and dread—I knew deep down that they had all been the same as the one I just suffered through.
Panting to regain my breath, I got up and dressed for the day. Try as I might, I couldn’t erase the petrifying images from my mind. Mason’s glowing eyes. The huge demon breaking through the black sky. The snakes. The fires. The subsequent shattering of the world, followed by eternal darkness.
I was certain I knew why the nightmares were happening. After all the years of brainwashing and guilt, followed by the sudden awakening from Mason, my mind was whirling around in confused circles, still trying to make sense of everything. The bad dreams about demons and betrayal were simply a way of processing it all. I was sure they didn’t mean anything beyond that.
“Did I hear a scream from in here, Jolie?”
I turned to see Dale Sardelic at my door. He was the man who came around to the women’s section every week to replenish our vitamin supplies.
“I had a bad dream,” I said. “It was very frightening.”
“How unfortunate.” He held up a bag and smiled, clearly not caring about my fears in the slightest. “I’m here to give you a refill.”
I nodded and handed him my vitamin box. I’d been crushing them and putting them in a drain every day for the last few weeks, and so far, no one was any the wiser. Except Mason, of course.
“You didn’t take yesterday’s doses,” Dale said with a frown, tilting the box so I could see inside. There were two little beige pills in yesterday’s slot.
My heart skipped a beat. Did I forget to destroy them?
I thought back, and with a sharp jolt, I realized I’d definitely forgotten. I was so busy making that testimonial video with Mason in the Penance Rooms that I forgot all about the stupid pills.
“It must have slipped my mind,” I said.
“I’m sure one day won’t matter too much,” he said. “But take them now, just in case, along with this morning’s dose.”
I gaped at him. He wanted me to take three pills at once? That was insane. After not taking any at all for so many weeks, I would probably turn into a zombie if I took that many in one go.
I shook my head. “I can’t take three.”
Dale narrowed his eyes. “You can, and you will. Do you want me to report this?”
“No. Please don’t,” I murmured, taking the three pills from him. The last thing I needed to do was stir up trouble.
I took a deep, shaky breath as I handled the pills, trying to channel some of Mason’s strength from afar. I could handle this. The drugs would probably just make me a little foggy and sleepy, and the effects would eventually pass.
Worst case scenario, I might feel a bit sick and be forced to spend the day in bed. I would miss all my work if that happened, but that was okay. Mason was in town contacting the authorities right now, so it wouldn’t matter if the place was messy. It would be raided today anyway, if all went well.
I swallowed the pills and followed Dale’s command to open my mouth and stick my tongue out so he could determine whether or not I’d actually taken them. He nodded when he saw my empty mouth, and then he headed out to the next girl’s room.
I felt fine for the next few hours. I helped make breakfast, and afterwards, I washed the dishes and wiped down all the kitchen counters before starting on the floors. My mind felt sharp, lucid. I worked to the best of my ability, diligently carrying out my tasks as I waited and prayed that Mason was successfully sorting everything out in Amiens.
Around ten o’clock, my reality began to shift. One minute I was standing in a hall with a bucket and mop, and the next I was on the other side of the shelter. My legs were shaky, weak, and I could barely see three feet in front of me.
I blinked, trying to make the blurriness fade. It finally went away, and my vision was sharper than ever, as if I’d emerged from a thick dark mist and stepped into a clear desert with endless bright sun lighting everything up. But there was no sun here. So what was that light I kept seeing out of the corner of my eye?
I took a deep breath. It’s just the pills, I told myself. They’re making you woozy and irrational, but you can get through this.
At least I hoped I could. Already, I could feel my sense of reason and rationality slipping.
I slowly walked down the hall and looked over at a clock to see how much time had passed since I started feeling odd. As I watched the seconds tick by on the clock face, I was suddenly struck by a disturbing feeling. I felt as if I’d been staring at it for twelve hours, but it was only ten past ten. Only a few minutes had passed since I finished mopping. I knew that, and yet somehow, the rest of my brain had become untethered from the dimension of time, and I was convinced it had to be evening already.
Had I fallen asleep? Was I dreaming again?
I tried to test all of my senses, but I couldn’t seem to muster any brainpower to do so. All I registered was a faint foul odor somewhere in the air. I couldn’t figure out where it was coming from.
Then I saw it, in the doorway to Elena’s old room. It was her. A ghost. She stared at me with heavy-lidded eyes and a slack jaw. Her jutting cheekbones made her look skeletal, and her gray skin was lined with silvery scars.
I screamed and covered my eyes. A moment later, Lauren was by my side, touching my arm and speaking to me in a soothing tone. “Jolie, what’s wrong? What happened?”
“I saw… I…” I barely choked out the words as I pointed toward Elena’s door with a shaky finger.
“Saw what?”
I opened my eyes. There was nothing in the doorway but a gray-handled broom and dustpan. The pills were making me confused. Making me hallucinate. It was worse than I thought it would be.
“Nothing,” I mumbled. “I just don’t feel well. I’m dizzy and I keep seeing things that aren’t there.”
“You should have some water,” she said. She took my arm and gently guided me down the hall.
The farther we walked, the more deranged I felt. None of this seemed real. I was completely losing my marbles.
I spotted Martha a moment later, heading in our direction with a stack of dirty plates from the children’s mid-morning snack time. “Hey, Martha,” I said, overcome by a sudden urge to know if she’d overheard anything yesterday and if she subsequently intended to turn me or Mason in. I stopped and jabbed a finger at her chest. “Did you say anything about me?”
She looked confused. “Like what?” she asked.
“You know what.” My voice was slurring now.
She furrowed her brows. “Is she okay?” she asked, looking at Lauren.
Lauren shook her head. “She is
n’t feeling well. She’s behaving really strangely.” She leaned forward and began to whisper, but I heard everything she said anyway. “She said she’s seeing things. I’m worried.”
“Oh, no.” Martha put the plates down and pressed a hand to my forehead. “No fever. I wonder what’s going on.”
Yeah, so do I… I thought, blinking slowly. I couldn’t think straight at all now. Where was I?
“What if she’s possessed?” Lauren asked, a tremor in her voice.
“She might be,” Martha said, nodding sagely. “Let’s go to the chapel and pray. Jolie, do you think you can manage that?”
“Yes. Praying. Chapel.” I barely uttered the words. Martha and Lauren looked at me and then briefly shot glances at one another. Glances which suggested I’d lost my mind.
I had, hadn’t I?
They led me into the church and took me up to the front. I knelt before the altar and gazed up at the stained glass windows. I knew they were fake and there was nothing behind them but dirt, but they looked real with the little lights shining behind them. My father had put a lot of money and effort into building this place, evil or not.
Speaking of my father… he was staring down at me right now. Not the real man, but an oil painting version of him. The canvas had been hung on the wall beyond the altar so that my father could look down on everyone in judgment, as if he were the only God in this place.
I was suddenly overcome by uncontrollable fits of laughter. I remembered from when I was a child that other churches had depictions of Jesus and angels throughout them… but ours just had a giant painting of my father instead. It was so ridiculous.
