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Chapter Twenty-Eight

Ashton

M y eyes fight to open, crusted shut with salty, dried tears. They feel swollen and achy like the rest of my body from being man handled too roughly. As my senses come flooding back one by one, so does the pain and dread.

My tongue feels like sandpaper, dry and heavy, following a desert trail past my throat.

Sitting up on a broken mattress, the world around me starts to sway.

My head pounds, pressure building behind my eyes and temples.

With the vision of someone who’s had one too many drinks, I catch a door to my right.

Without much thought, I quickly jump from the bed, letting out a shocked yelp. My body slams back onto the mattress, bouncing with the force. It takes me a second to realize that I’m handcuffed to the bed frame.

Panic induced shivers course through me, forcing goosebumps to spread all over my skin.

I can feel the hairs on the back of my neck rise at the danger that’s becoming evident the longer I’m conscious.

Despite the fear that dampens my skin, I’m cold, my arms bare.

At some point while I was passed out, someone took it upon themselves to change my clothes.

I’m now wearing a white, short-sleeved dress that reaches down to my ankles.

The fabric is thin like something you would wear in the summer, not dead middle of winter.

I can’t stop my mind from wondering what else happened while I was unconscious, while I was undressed and didn’t even know it. Trying to distract myself, I force my brain to recall everything that’s happened up until this point.

Think. Think. Think.

But my mind is too distracted right now by the prospect of being trapped in this windowless room with nothing but me and the bed inside.

The walls that might have once been white are now yellow and brown with water stains dripping down in every corner of the ceiling.

In random spots along the carpet are black tar-ish patches against the green matted fibers that resemble burn marks.

It’s musty in here as if the lack of air flow trapped all the summer’s humidity and never let it go. I’m sure mold and mildew are making themselves right at home.

The springs squeal beneath me as I shift my weight. I’m tempted to call out, to scream for some attention, but I’m too afraid of what that attention will bring. Instead, I shut my eyes for just a moment longer, thinking back to the last thing I remember.

Sam.

Arguing.

Slamming my front door.

Cold.

Honking.

A stranger tapping my shoulder.

Turning, never seeing a face.

A bag over my head; I can’t breathe .

Arms hooking beneath mine.

Hands gripping my ankles.

Fighting, fighting, fighting.

A pinch in my arm, fire in my veins.

Then... nothing.

The sound of the door slamming open startles me half to death. A ginormous man barrels through, nearly knocking it off its hinges. I scream, but quickly swallow it as the giant stalks towards me, the smell wafting off of him offending my nostrils.

With fingers the size of sausages, he unlocks the cuff attached to the bed frame and secures it around my other wrist in front of me before forcing me to my feet.

“Where am I? Where are you taking me?” I can’t help the questions as they sputter out in anxious pleas.

“Don’t you worry about any of that.” The man smirks, yanking me by the arm.

I stumble, but his grip is so tight that he drags me across the floor. I finally catch up, my feet finding the ground beneath me enough to keep up the pace.

He shoves me through a narrow hallway with more rooms before we trample out into a large common area. I take in every detail;

the upside-down crosses that hang on the walls.

The faded black books, worn with age, inscribed in gold letters that are peeling so badly you can hardly catch the titles.

The air that reeks of malice and foreboding doom.

Even the people that watch me as I’m pushed towards a fate they know all too much about.

They look so normal; clad in conservative clothing that one might not associate with a devil worshipping cult.

Pretty, the men too. They wear their skin like costumes, pretending that they aren’t demons in disguise.

It doesn’t fool me though, the white dresses like mine and the pale button ups, their blank faces and concerned gazes.

All a show because if this is the same cult that stole a piece of Oliver’s soul, then they have every idea about what goes on here.

I catch sight of a woman in the kitchen as we pass by, our eyes locking for only a second, but in that second, I feel like she shares a secret with me.

Of all the people we’ve passed by so far, she’s the only one whose shadow isn’t darker than the devil they worship.

Maybe it’s just misplaced hope in a stranger with a baby in her belly, praying that when she sees the horror that goes on here it makes her think of her own children.

I know that’s a stretch, but it’s enough to spark a fire inside my wilted heart.

The night greets me with a frigid gust of wind as I stumble out the front door of the building.

It never occurred to me that it could be the end of the day because the concept of time has been robbed from me.

The winter air bites at my bare flesh, leaving sharp goosebumps in its wake, the white dress doing absolutely nothing to protect me from the harsh elements.

“Where are we going?” I can’t help myself as the question flees from my lips a second time.

The man flattens his palm across the top of my head, tilting my face to his.

“You’ll see.”

His smile sickens me, fear a vile bug crawling around in the depths of my stomach. With a rough hand, he crams me into the backseat of a car. The force causes my body to fall over, and it takes unforgiving effort to right myself.

As the engine purrs to life, a loud ringing in my head deafens me. It’s all I can hear, piercing through my brain from one ear to the other. I squeeze my eyes shut and take deep breaths in through my nose and out my mouth, but it does absolutely nothing to quell my racing heart and aching mind.

We take off in the direction of the forest behind the church, the tires kicking up dead grass and leaving a makeshift road in its wake. The drive beyond the trees is shorter though, the path narrowing the further in we get, finally halting all together when we reach a point we cannot pass.

Darkness washes over us within seconds of killing the car’s headlights.

With it comes a sudden and eerie silence.

For a moment, I’m left in the backseat, listening to my own heartbeat wondering what misery lies in wait.

The next, my body is dragged outside as if my deadweight isn’t a hinderance to my captor.

I’m forced to my feet despite my legs nearly giving out.

I can feel my knees knock into each other, the bones clanking painfully.

There’s only one path forward, the path that can no longer fit an entire vehicle.

There's a rustling near the trees behind me and even though that would have normally terrified me, it did nothing now. I can’t imagine anything worse than what I’m already facing.

When I don’t immediately move, the man’s fist clenches my hair at the back of my head, using it to push me along. I can barely see where I’m walking, the lack of light blinding. With every stumble, my head jerks back, keeping me from falling, but spiking a sharp sting in my scalp.

A whimper tumbles from my mouth as tears slip past my lower lash. There’s no use in pretending I’m not petrified. Confidence isn’t going to get me very far anyway.

After a few more stumbling steps along the dirt beneath my feet, I begin to see a flickering light through the trees.

Even though the break from darkness is a relief, nothing about the light provides any comfort.

Within minutes, we’re pushing through to a clearing in the forest where a group of people donned in red robes stand ominously in a circle.

At the sound of our arrival, a tall, thin man with long grey hair spins on his heels.

Black beady eyes bore into me as if his gaze alone could set me on fire.

His mouth creeps up with an unhinged smile.

His teeth match his entire appearance, grey, long, and thin.

He didn’t look real, as if he was just another demon in disguise wearing his skin the wrong way.

“Come, my dear.” He orders, his voice echoing in the night.

He gestures for me to come with a skeletal finger, but my brain is short circuiting. My bare heels dig deep into the cold, wet ground like anchors, desperate to grow roots where I stand. A million words cycle through my head, yet none of them make it out loud.

Before I even have the chance to refuse him, the bigger man behind me shoves my shoulder, forcing me forward. Each step closer to the red cloaks feels like a step closer to a nightmare I know will never leave me.

An ache throbs inside my head from the constant chatter of my teeth, the bitter cold air seeping deep into my bones. So deep, that my fingers and toes have officially gone numb.

As I take my final step, I can see that these creeps aren’t just standing in a circle, they’re standing outside of a pentagram carved into the frosted ground.

Lit torches are positioned at each point of the star casting us in a malevolent glow.

The flames dance wildly with the wind, creating shadows, projecting true demonic forms from each vessel.

“So, so beautiful.” The man murmurs, those boney fingers caressing a strand of hair from my face.

A violent shiver rolls through me at his touch, leaving behind a trail of sin.

“Shh, shh, shh. Don’t cry.” He soothes. “You don’t want your tears to freeze.”

The palm of his leathery hand cups the side of my face, his fingers threading through my hair. Gently, he tugs, his lips meeting the center of my forehead. I shudder in disgust, the cold air caressing the thin veil of saliva he left behind .

“You made this all possible, my dear. You helped bring Oliver home and now you just have to help us convince him to stay.”

My head shakes involuntarily, every ounce of my soul refusing to make any of that happen.

“What’s that, my dear?”

“N-no.” I force out between my clenched jaw.

A sardonic smirk cuts across his weathered face. “So brave, but we don’t actually need you to do anything. Just sit pretty, dear, and we’ll take care of the rest.”

Fingers wrap around my arm, tugging me away from him and shoving me into the center of the pentagram. My knees hit first; the hardened Earth sharp enough to cut into my skin and make me bleed.

My head spins, the forest an array of blended colors that I can’t quite name. The smell of kerosene and dirt chokes my senses and all I feel is a suffocating fear.