Author'
s Note:
We
're heating up now, folks! Thanks to everyone who's supporting my work, whether it's a like, a favorite, or a comment. I appreciate all of it.
I like to listen to music while I write, and I figured I'd leave you all with a list of songs that I drew inspiration from while writing this chapter.
Give them a listen if you want to set the mood.
The sex scene: "Hellfire" by Rafscrap (best with headphones)
The Fall:
"
Psalm 50 in Aramaic
" Adoration of The Cross
And finally, if there was a "Credits" song, (also the inspiration for the title, since a few people asked): "Her Eyes" by Fame on Fire
Enjoy!
A tidal wave of cold water woke me up; I tried to move, screaming as consciousness came roaring back, only to find that I'd been duct-taped to a chair, a black bag over my head.
"Motherfucker!" I snarled as pain exploded across my body; my voice was muddled; every movement of my jaw was agony.
A smooth male voice followed a few seconds of silence.
"Quiet sinner...Pain is your penance for laying with the great evil."
Nobody talks like that un-ironically.
I spit blood against the inside of the hood.
"I have no idea what you're on about." I tried to move my jaw as little as possible against the pain, speaking out of the uninjured side of my mouth.
A chuckle, "We know you, Zackary Miller, your sister Jen, and your mother, Sandra. Tsk, it's a pity that they kept you through cancer, only to lose you to sin."
"You shut your fucking mouth," I growled.
He continued as if I hadn't spoken, "Did you ever stop to think that maybe God was punishing you because He knew what you would become? A puppet of the Beast?"
My eyes were welling up, but I kept it out of my voice, "You don't know a fucking thing..."
I heard him get out of his chair, "Deny it all you want. Almighty God knows what you've done regardless."
I scoffed, "So what's the plan then? Kill me?"
"Nothing so boring, though I can assure you that you will never leave this basement."
"What's the fucking point? I'm nobody."
Another chuckle, "To keep the Beast from stopping the war, of course. It is high time that the Earth was swept clean in the fires of Armageddon, high time that Humanity learned to fear God again as they should."
A cold trickle ran down my spine as I realized that my presence at the meeting was probably more important than Lucy let on.
Or maybe she didn't know?
I spoke slowly like I was talking to a child, letting a note of derision slip into my voice, "So you guys are gonna make sure Heaven and Hell go to war? And you think I'm involved somehow? Does your shrink know about this?"
The bag was ripped off my head, and I blinked against the harsh fluorescent light; the room was bare, with odd runes inscribed on every inch of the concrete. My tormentor was a man in his forties, graying a bit at the temples, in an immaculate suit, a pin that matched the tattoo I'd clocked before I went under on his lapel. He got right in my face as the door opened behind him, revealing two masked men.
"Penance, Mr. Miller, we must all pay for our actions. As you will pay for yours."
I noticed one of them dragging a hand truck with a car battery front and center.
So it's gonna be like that...
The suit grinned, shark-like, "Gentlemen? Show Mr. Miller the Lord's hospitality."
They set up quickly as the fear washed over me; they wouldn't be asking questions; that wasn't the goal. They just wanted to hurt me until they were satisfied. My breathing sped up as one of them rolled the jumper cables together; the steel wool clipped there turned red hot in an instant, dripping sparks onto the floor.
My voice shook, "When I get out of this chair, I'm going to kill you."
The suit never stopped smiling, "Idle threats from a failure of a man; forgive me if I'm not impressed."
The jumper cables hit my bare chest, and I screamed until I could taste blood. Smoke rolled off my muscles; every nerve ending was ablaze. A moment later, they cut the power, and the dark rushed in to claim me...
More water woke me up. The suit was gone, but the two assholes remained; I wasn't even conscious before they started in again. Every muscle burned; I could almost feel my heart skipping beats.
I lost track of how long I was there; they woke me up with water or adrenaline shots, chipping away at me with the battery before they started with the knife, an ornate thing inscribed with more runes, the blade burned as it sliced through my skin, pain like I'd never felt ripped through me as they tore me apart, piece by bloody piece.
The two goons finally left me alone, promising they'd be back, chuckling as they packed up and shut the door behind them. I sagged against my bonds, blood dripping to the floor, burns and deep cuts scored every inch of exposed skin; I coughed and spat blood on the floor, pain wracked me, the kind of pain that makes it hard to think.
It'd be so easy to give up; I'd wind up in Hell anyway, at least I'd see Lucy again.
...
Nah.
I flexed my shoulders, ignoring the pain; I wanted to scream, let it out somehow, but I kept my teeth gritted, the pain in my jaw building until my vision went blurry.
The tape around my arms started to give; I rocked slowly, making a space that became a tear. I thought of Lucy, of Mom and Jen.
They need me...
ON YOUR FEET!
The tape gave way, freeing my left arm, my right was a mess of bruises, and I could feel the bones grinding, pain lancing through with every slight movement. I carefully unwrapped the arm, reaching down to undo the tape around my legs. I stood, testing my weight; my ankle throbbed, a bad sprain rather than a break. It still wouldn't make what came next any more manageable.
I looked around the room for something I could use, the chair was bolted to the floor, and I'd be useless in a fight.
My time ran out a second later.
The doorknob jiggled, a key sliding into the lock; I set up on the knob side and waited.
Fuck...
I took a deep breath, closing my eyes, and remembering words from a lifetime ago.
A human being has a remarkable ability to know when they're being watched, don't look directly at your target, try not to think about them, keep your mind blank on approach. Let the violence surprise both of you.
One of the masked goons pushed the door open, coming in backward carrying a box of who knew what.
"Ready for more, scum? I'm going to enjoy this."
He cleared the door, and I kicked it shut, throwing a punch that sent him crashing into the wall. I was in his business before the box hit the floor, throwing my injured hand into the bridge of his nose and screaming as the impact rippled up my arm.
He hit me with an elbow that only gets described in a eulogy; my vision blinked out and came back just as fast, the blow knocking me back, but not far enough. I lashed out with a kick that took him just below the knee, bending it the wrong way with a wet snap. He howled and threw himself at me, toppling both of us to the floor and wrapping his hands around my throat, going for my trachea instead of the arteries like a pro would.
I grabbed his hands in mock panic, scanning his vest for something I could use, spying a pen clipped to a pouch. I let my grip slacken, letting him think he was getting somewhere, inching for the steel barreled pen.
My fingers closed around it, and in one motion, I locked my injured arm around the back of his head and rammed the pen deep into his eye.
He'd been screaming with rage...Now he just screamed.
I worked the pen in the socket, his screams rising in pitch, hand sliding off my throat, scrabbling at me, trying to push me away.
I rolled us over and ripped the pen free; his one good eye blazed at me from under his mask, terrified. I took careful aim and stuck the pen into his neck, digging deep; he slapped me, trying to get away, shaking his head in denial. I stabbed him again and again until the lights went out, blood pooling under his ruined neck.
I shoved away from him, backing up until I hit the wall, struggling to catch my breath, trying to keep the hot rush of memories at bay.
I stood shakily, wiping the goon's blood off my face; my hands shook as I searched him, coming up with a Beretta and two mags; I quickly press checked it to make sure it was loaded and started for the door. The only way out of here was through them. I stumbled against the door, my vision tunneling; I was outta gas, there was no way around it, but at least if I died here, I'd die on my goddamn feet.
Here goes nothing.
My hand touched the knob, and someone started shooting in the hall, a chorus of automatic fire that slackened with each passing second. I backed off the door, keeping the gun trained on it.
Someone screamed, long and loud, an animal scream of pure terror and pain. The sound climbed higher, into a range no man should be capable of before his voice snapped into nothing like an over-tight guitar string. I smelled burning metal and ozone a split second before the door bowed and crashed inward.
I instinctively leaned away from the door at the air of cold malevolence that froze my blood, hitting me like a physical presence as it diffused throughout the room. The temperature dropped, tendrils of ice reaching out from the abyss beyond.
Claws screeched over the doorframe, finding purchase and digging in, shearing metal like paper, five glowing blood-red eyes glared from the darkness beyond, teeth that I could barely see dripped viscera onto the cold floor, a low rumbling growl ripped out of its throat.
We locked eyes, the thing reared back and lunged. I closed my eyes, steeling myself, and let the gun slip from my hand.
But the end never came, only a pair of arms wrapping around me, soft lips pressing against my ruined ones, and the sharp floral scent of a familiar perfume surrounded me.
Lucy
...
"Oh, my love..."
