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Chapter thirty

Lucien

I ’ve never been a fan of the red and blue lights; the red and white ones aren’t any better. I let Nadia go after the pit, hoping she would do the right thing and come back to me, where I can keep her safe, but that was foolish of me. When the lights and sirens started filling the open drains from solitary, I had to stay put as the officers down there raced up to address the problem.

I saunter over to the closest cell and grab the radio I stashed down here a day or so ago and turn it on. Speaking through the receiver specifically for Nadia to hear. When I pulled her against my chest, I turned the channel knob all the way until she no longer had access to the shared station. This disabled her chances to reach out to other officers, but also kept them from hearing me when I started taunting her through the airwaves.

Cutting her off from the help she was going to be in desperate need of.

This is just part of the game.

It’s like having a mouse caught in a maze of twists and turns. She can bite and claw her way to safety, but in the end, I am going to dangle the rat by her tail. Leave her hanging above a tank of starving snakes—snapping at her, ready to bite and coil around their prey; squeeze the air from her lungs until her little heart burst from the pressure.

I was her safest option, and she ran from me, right into the trap of men who have only been held back by the thinnest of strings, but now that thread is broken.

Once I figure the coast is clear, I casually head back up the old stairs to the still open door—the wall now closed. Smart girl, trying to slow me down, but either way I’m going to catch up with her and she will be with me whether she wants to be or not.

Damaged or whole, it doesn’t matter.

Back up on Darkwater’s ground level, I stroll down the hallway, heading over to gen pop, my head turns left and right as chaos ensues around me. Officers using everything they can get their hands on to ward off swarms of inmates; trash bins, chairs, their shields, everything. Inmates snapping and cackling like rabid wolves as they circle guards, sizing them up for the final pounce.

Plumes of carbon dioxide snow bellow from the fire extinguishers and hit inmates in the face to slow them down. Deployment of smoke bombs down the D Block hall doing little to nothing to keep the monsters from plowing through the wall of officers; knocking them over like a stacked deck of cards.

Screams echo from the administration hall, the supportive staff choking on their own pleading, a trail of guards litter the floor behind a pack of inmates who were now assaulting the desk clerk and using whatever they can to break through the bars that hold us all behind the innermost checkpoint.

No one is safe, and it fills my black heart with pride.

Dragging my fifth, sixth, seventh cigarette pack from my pocket—I don’t know anymore—I calmly place one between my lips and strike a match. At the center of gen pop, I turn in slow circles, watching every interaction with slow drags. Observing the ongoing violence around me with little to no emotion; like it’s not happening right in front of my eyes.

A normal person would be panicking, calling for the authorities to help defuse the situation—to stop the pointless bloodshed but I thrive off of this. This is what I came to Darkwater for. Total upheaval and the fall of man.

It’s beautiful—the blood, the agony, the smell of death wafting over the scent of burnt tobacco. I’m right at home.

I was right, I love it here.

Once I have my fill, I drop the cigarette butt to the blood-stained tile, stomping out the cherry—can’t have the prison catching fire, now can we. I have a date with a certain guard after all, and I’m sure she will be expecting me sooner rather than later.

It doesn’t take me long to get to the end of a block, away from the bulk of the massacre, and the sight that greets me has me nearly jumping with excitement and clapping my hands. There she sits, chained, cuffed, and bound to the cell bars just like I ordered. My childhood may have been barren of love and appreciation but this felt like all twenty-seven Christmases and birthdays wrapped up in one delicious present.

Thank you, my Lord, for this glorious gift.

While I do not prefer to work with anyone, setting this whole thing up with the AB has taken care of three birds with one swift and accurate stone. Kace, subdued. Inmates and officers, dead. My sweet little Nadia offered up for me like a high-priced meal and my mouth salivates.

She’s so beautiful, broken, and battered. Blood still dripping down the side of her head from whatever they did to her, and that alone makes my breathing pickup.

Nadia and blood? You shouldn’t have.

Her uniform is ripped away from her body. Buttons of her shirt missing, the dark pants she wears are ripped along the inseam and pulled away from her legs leaving her with just her duty belt wrapped around her waist. The undergarments she has on underneath are tattered and exposing her most intimate patches of flesh. Bruises already blooming across her pale skin where the inmates’ hands gripped her violently, and where the rough fabric of her uniform left irritated red abrasions. If she only knew how stunning she looked in this very moment.

Crouching before her, I reach out and tilt her head back, my fingers hooked under her jaw. When her head meets the metal bars, she groans. Her red and purpling eyelids are hiding the silver eyes that I long to see. Pain looks lovely on her, then her little sound? She’s still awake enough to feel things even if she isn’t strong enough to keep those haunting eyes open.

She has to finish being broken so we can leave this place together, we have destinies to fulfill and she will never be able to do so if she remains so strong willed. I need her destroyed. I need nothing left of the girl she was, the woman she is. Nadia needs to be a shell, so she can ascend into the deity she was born to be.

A sacred whore, the Scarlet woman, the mother of abominations.

Leaning in, I brush my nose along her jawline, followed by the undeniable urge to lick her skin and taste her blood, but I hold myself back. That would enrage my Lord, and I have come so far, and am so close to completing my task. Still though, my pupils dilate while I look her over; an ache settling inside of me.

“Are you ready to move her, Lucien? We have to do it before the CERT team gets here.” Clark asks as he comes up behind me.

For a guard, he sure is confident walking around here in his uniform. He must have allowed word to spread through the population to keep him safe when the riots began. He ought to be careful though, I’m not like the rest. It will take nothing to break the fragile agreement we have. Now that I have what is owed to me, he’s better off playing with the rest of the prisoners.

“Yes, let’s get her moved. I want her down in solitary. Whatever takes CERT longer to get to her. They’re going to come for all officers and staff before giving the green light for the rest of us. The sooner we are gone and out of the way, the better.”

Clark raises a hand and waves over One and Two, my silent brood; always ready and willing to do the grunt work for everyone else. Removing all her restraints, they both hook an arm under her pits. Her legs dragging behind them while her head remains tilted forward in her semi-conscious state. They proceed to the end of the block—an old guard shack sitting there. Dust coats every surface, computers stripped for their electrical components, chairs devoid of padding or worn down until the legs could no longer bear weight.

A drop hatch sits in the middle of the small room, once hidden under a layer of tile, now propped up and waiting for us to enter. It is dark, ominous, and will lead us to Darkwater’s very own hell.

One right after another, they descend the ladder that has seen better days to the platform below. A set of stairs, much like the ones connecting to solitary, waiting for use. Two fed Nadia’s limp body down into the black hole, she may feel like she will never see the light of day again, but I promise she will— as mine .

When everyone is in, I follow, pulling the hatch with me and shrouding us all in darkness.

This corridor of the pit is the longest, D Block being the longest hallway as well. The pit sprawls out in directions that you would not have anticipated. With side hallways that connect with others, some which come to dead ends, others that veer off in one direction or another then circle right back around to where they began. It is a maze down here, confusing the persons who wander it but I managed to map it out a little while back.

I needed a way to move through the prison without being caught, and when I found the first evidence of the hatch, I spent time quietly dislodging the tile until I was able to access it when I wanted to. Imagine my excitement when I learned that the pit connects to every block, and even to the warden’s office. What a way to escape.

Trailing through the underbelly of Darkwater, the small group and I come up to the shorter wing that houses solitary just above. The simple whines and chatter of the mentally disturbed inmates sitting right over us adding to the unnerving atmosphere.

“Alright boys, get her up there and get her restrained,” Clark orders.

“Sir,” they respond in unison.

Good little peons.

“Lucien, we made a deal. Don’t forget that.”

“I don’t remember agreeing but I’m no fool. I know what’s going to unfold. Whatever breaks her and gets the both of us out of here.”

“I can’t promise you’ll make it out of here, you need to know that.”

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take. Now go, we are out of time.”

Following him, I climb the stairs and sit at the top. Drawing out another cigarette, smirking around the filter. Everything comes around in the end, one way or another, and while they restrain little Nadia, the time unravels.

You should be proud, my Son.

Ahh, my Lord, you finally bless me with your presence.

“I’ve done what you have asked.”

You are not done yet. You have more souls to claim, you do not leave until every soul I sent you to collect is accounted for.

“Yes, my Lord. Is there anything else you require of me?”

No, Lulu. You’ve done so well, my sweet boy.

Mother.

Her voice causes me to close my eyes. The warmth from it, how it blankets me and hugs my heart from the inside out. I ache to join her, to leave this existence behind like I left my father. The same way I ostracized myself from society and went on about my own path— one led by darkness.

“I miss you, can I see you soon?”

You do every day, my boy. I love you, Lulu. Forever until the stars die.

Breathing out a harsh exhale, I can hear Nadia starting to rouse. The way she breaths, slow and deep, until her eyes flutter open and they became panic filled.

The other inmates down here with me have been waiting so patiently for our little Nadia to wake up before doing anything to her. I think I will hang off to the side and watch while they play with her. They’re just as curious as to where Kace is hiding out too. Little do they know that I have dealt with him. He wasn’t part of my plan but seeing him with her sent me on a rampage and I can’t focus with him existing.

The AB is doing this to get paid from a big-bad that lives on the outside of these walls and until they deliver him, they do not get paid.

I choose not to participate in this little interrogation, as my skills are a bit too rusty, but it’s entertaining to watch. I can’t help myself when I look over at her and see her heavy head lifting, defiant as always, so resilient.

“Nadia, I’m not going to ask you again, you need to tell me where Kace is.” Clark growls.

“I told you, you piece of shit, I don’t know anything. I am looking for him just as you are. Why do you care anyway, I thought I was the job. Eye for an eye, remember?”

“He has to watch, it was part of the deal, and if I go back on the deal, I’m dead, you stupid bitch.”

Clark reaches back and swings, cracking Nadia across the face as I scoot down a few steps. Watching him abuse her doesn’t bother me, seeing people harm and be harmed is my idea of a movie night. Matter of fact, it calms me. The pleading, the need to hear someone’s breaths perforated by gagging on their blood, is one of my favorite things ever.

It’s heavenly.

“Dick! I don’t know who you made your deal with but I can tell you right now, you’re not going to find him. If I knew where he was, I’d be right there with him. Not sitting here getting beat on by some low testosterone infidel.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s right. Because you bend over backwards, forwards, sideways, any direction he wants you to. Don’t you, Nadia? The videos I have of it are nice, by the way. They’ll make for a good court case before they throw you in Bluitt and forget about you.”

She falls silent at that.

Hmm.

Sitting there, chewing on her bottom lip, she looked away from the man. From where I am sitting, it looks like she’s sucking on the swollen bit of flesh. I wonder if he busted it and that’s blood filling her lovely mouth.

She’s always been defiant, ready to fight people for her own reasons, and for those who have less than her, like some sort of vigilante, but that no longer matters now that darkness has smeared its way across her heart.

Truth is, the Lord promised me I could have her for the exchange of as many souls from Darkwater as I could provide. I prayed for her to return to me, from an early age, then he came to me giving me what I needed to get her back. Unfortunately, God will be short one soul until I am ready to send it packing. She is my prize for years of work, my consolation for dealing with all the trauma I faced in life.

Which I cannot wait to tell her all about— it’s time to bond again, Nadia.

I can’t contain my grin when she lifts her chin and glares at Clark, then she wells up a ball of spit and hurls it at him. Yes, her saliva is marbled with crimson, and for all that is holy, my penis twitches at the filthy act.

“Nasty skank,” Clark snarls, taking a handkerchief from a pocket and wiping her spit from his uniform. What a tool. Who carries a handkerchief anymore, for one, and for two, he is wearing black, it won’t stain. Trust me, that’s why I wear black every time I use someone for flaying practice.

“What is the governor giving you for Kace? Notoriety, a pardon, a free pass at some underground sex ring?”

“The root of all evil, of course, money.”

“It won’t be enough to save you when the cartel comes for you.”

She laughs at that, the words catching me off guard as well.

What does she mean?

“What the hell are you talking about?” he asks, almost reading my mind.

“Did you forget who Kace’s best friend is?” She shakes her head, chuckling.

She is stalling him, clever girl.

“Matias Ayala,” he replies.

“Yes, and who does Matias belong to?”

Silence absorbs solitary when the gears in his head slowly turn. I can hear the lack of lubrication from here. As the leader of the AB, he isn’t that bright. I could have answered this question for him a long time ago, but he failed to ask and when you don’t ask, I don’t answer.

While they bicker back and forth, I lean my head back against the wall and let my eyes close. I know exactly where Kace is and how pathetic his last words sounded.

“You son of a bitch!” Kace shouts.

“How many times do I have to tell you to watch your mouth, Kace.”

Swing—I crack him in the face with a right hook.

“Do not speak the Lord's name in vain, and you leave my mother out of your mouth all together.”

Swing—Again in the face.

His blind eye bleeding more profusely, the beautiful red trailing down his fair skin. I want to rub his essence all over me, bathe in it, feel its youth soak into me.

“S— stop.” He chokes.

“No can do, you broke every rule. Well, the only rule I had which was to leave what was mine alone. You touched her with almost every part of your body so now I’ll break every part of yours.”

Walking over, I grab a chain that unceremoniously falls from the ceiling with a loud series of clangs. Which I proceed to wrap it around his torso once I make it over to his restrained body. Stepping around to the back of him, I twirl one end around my left arm and the other end round the right. Lifting a foot, I place it in the middle of the chair’s back and push, pulling with both arms.

The chains tighten around him, slowly at first but when I lean forward to get a better grip and yank back, I hear his ribs crack followed by a pained scream.

There we go, that’s what I want.

“If you can hold out until morning, I’ll at least let you say goodbye.”

Who am I kidding, morning is a ways away and with how cold it is down here, I’ll be surprised if he lived through the next few hours. Remaining conscious is a whole different story.

“Y- you will?” Kace asks, his breathing becoming labored the harder I pull. I’ll move on to another method in a moment.

“You know what, I’m feeling generous today.”

I release the chains and let them drop to the floor, the black sludge that covers them now stain the shape of the links across his naked chest. You could see the broken ribs with every breath he takes, his chest caving on the sides.

I know that hurts but I just don’t care.

Reaching into my pocket, I pull out the cell phone that Clark was letting me look at earlier. Sliding my filthy hand over the screen, it comes to life and I swipe to the app that will record his voice.

Dropping the device on his lap, I walk back around and pick up the chains, twirling one around his neck first, letting it hang there, then the other one.

“Speak fast, she may not be alive long enough to hear what all you have to say by the time I get to play it.”

Kace sucks in a pained breath, right as I lift my shank and stab it down in the soft tissues between his collar bone and shoulder.

Finding it rather interesting when he doesn’t scream; focusing more on his last words to our whore.

“N— Nadia.” he starts.

He needs to hurry up, there’s only so much pity I can extend.

“I—I’m sorry.”

His voice strains, breathing limits, and consciousness fading in and out.

“How touching,” I clip, yanking the shiv from his body before jamming it back inside of him.

Screams pull me out of that little respite. I spent my time bringing every ounce of pain to his body that I could. All before I was dragged away for the moment unfolding before me. Looking over, Clark has Nadia by the hair, slamming her head back into the bars until she goes dazed once more.

I’m not a fan of this part; it’s one thing to see people undergo such assault but all I can see is little Nadia. The girl I met so long ago who understood me; even if she doesn’t remember. I see a child, then I see myself. Abused, berated, cast aside like we are trash.

I hate people who harm children, who allow for their pain. When I look at Nadia, all I see is a six-year-old little girl. Her tear-streaked face, her abused body. Lost, sad, needing a friend that would never come.

Lifting my right hand, I start chewing violently at my thumb nail. I deserve every ounce of punishment after this. For not saving her when we were little, for not saving her now. I have the means to do so, but a deal is a deal. The only way I get the last soul my Lord requires of me is to let them hurt her.

His grace, testing his loyal subject the harshest way possible.