Page 8 of Sinner: Before Rain (The Devil’s Society)

Chapter

Eight

ELIJAH - AGE TWENTY

“ S on, you know what’s coming.”

“Yes Dad. Fuck. I’ve known since I was five.”

I respect my dad. We have kept in touch over the ten years that I have been away. But he acts like I don’t have a fucking clue what is coming. At any moment, he and the society could call me back, now that I have turned twenty.

I am fucking aware.

His stern voice rumbles through my speaker, “Good. I’ll be in touch when it’s time.”

Then the call disconnects.

I’m sitting in Maxton’s home office. I often come in here when he isn’t home to see what kind of fun things I can find.

Sometimes it’s nothing. Other times, it’s different bank statements showing all the money he has conned out of his followers. I don’t feel bad. If they are dumb enough to believe him, then let them be dumb enough to fund his lifestyle.

My face is painted in black paint, shaded perfectly like a skull.

This is fucking me.

Take it or leave it. I don’t give a flying fuck. Plus, stepdaddy hates it when I do this, which makes me love it more.

My phone vibrates on his desk, speaking of the devil.

I click the green button and put it on speaker, “Yes, Master, how may I be of service?” Sarcasm flows freely from my lips .

“Show some fucking respect. Or have you forgotten who I am?”

Rolling my eyes, he is always this dramatic. “No, I just don’t always care.”

“Chapel, tonight. And it’s not like anything we have had before. Don’t be late.”

The call ends.

“Why do these fuckers keep hanging up on me?”

Hmm, this is interesting. What does Maxton have up his sleeve for this one?

Walking through the dimly lit hall of The Chapel, torches of fire line either side of me. My bat drags behind, leaving a trail behind me in the gravel as I walk. People will see it and know I’m here, with my preferred weapon of choice.

A few followers in their black robes and white masks rush past me, not wanting to be late.

Kiss asses.

Gravel crunches beneath my boots as I casually walk under the arched entrance to the main room. Crossing my legs, I lean against the cold rock and watch the performance that Maxton is putting on.

The long sleeves of my black zip-up hoodie are pushed up, exposing my tattoo-covered arms. One tattoo is the symbol of The Chapel, the outline of wings. I was graced with the ability to obtain such a tattoo once I turned eighteen. One of the followers inked it on me, as he does for everyone.

I did it to humor Maxton. Again, because I get what I want in return, torture and killing. And he gets what he wants, people he doesn’t care for gone.

A win, win some would say.

Taking in the scene before me, it is like any other naming.

The damp cave room is lined with white candles, which are lit, and the room is quiet as Maxton acquires The Chapel's next victim.

All of his followers stand at attention, facing the fire where Maxton stands, looking into it. My mom and his second and third in command stand behind him. They don’t go by names, none of them do. They are simply just second and third .

But I know who they are.

Information is power. Observation is key.

The room remains silent for minutes, which feels like hours. I’m not always here for the naming. Sometimes he just calls to let me know who I am getting, which is my preferred method.

He is putting on a show, and it’s getting fucking ridiculous.

I am half tempted to use my bat on him and give the people a real show.

Sometimes, I wonder what would happen if I shoved the end of my bat up his ass.

Would it splinter inside of him as I slid it out?

Causing him to bleed while he screams in agony at the invasion.

Would I accidentally go too deep? Compromising his internal organs, perhaps bursting something that is vital?

Resulting in internal bleeding and slowly dying without realizing it before it’s too late?

So many ideas.

But I would never put my bat anywhere near this fraud's ass.

My bat is worth much more to me than that. But it doesn’t stop me from daydreaming about it at every opportunity.

“Ah, Yes. As you wish. We are here to serve you.” Maxton’s voice invades my happy place as he breaks the silence that was stretched across the space.

My mom’s hand reaches up to his shoulder. “Master, tell us, what did The Dark One say?” Her eagerness just proves how weak she is. Always looking to please.

Maxton shrugs her off as he walks toward the elevated rock stage. Standing above and before his followers, he reaches his arms wide while tilting his masked face up toward the jagged rock ceiling.

“The Dark One has given us a gift!” His loud voice echoes, bouncing off the walls. “This coming La Notte del Diavolo, brings us two names. Suzie and Rain Mills.”

A loud gasp follows.

Never have I been given two names. Color me suspicious, but I will take it regardless.

Scrunching my brows and tilting my head. Come to think of it, I have never heard of these two before. What’s his motive here?

“Elijah has the names. He will bring them to us for our next La Notte del Diavolo!”

Loud cheers and clapping erupt as excitement fills the space.

As I stand to leave, his powerful voice stops me. “Elijah, please stay behind. We have many things to discuss. The rest of you, be free.”

I salute him and step further inside, leaning against the rock wall, so the excited cult members can exit the area.

They file out in an orderly fashion, a sea of black robes moves past me. Some whisper, wondering what is coming next, and what does all this mean ?

As the last one leaves, I don’t move.

If he wants to talk, he can come to me.

Maxton turns to face his inner circle, “Two, Three, Wife, you are also dismissed.” The three of them scurry away, also exiting through the same archway.

He shakes his head as he notices that I don’t move.

Which also shouldn’t shock him.

He steps down onto the ground and makes his way over to me.

“This task is very important. The next La Notte del Diavolo, isn’t for a month. There is ground work that needs to be done before you take these two and bring them to us.”

Nodding, I say, “Go on.”

“I have an address, they are a couple of towns over. First, you need to get to Rain. We need a sample of her hair or anything that could give us her DNA to be tested.”

The fuck is this?

“Over twenty-one years ago, I had relations with Suzie. Rain is most likely mine, and I have been watching from a distance. Her birthday is a month away, it’s time she comes home to me, to us, The Chapel, if she is in fact, mine.”

“And Suzie?” I question, what is his end game here?

“If Rain is mine and I was robbed of being her father, Suzie will be sacrificed to The Dark One. Do you understand? ”

Nodding my head, I absorb everything he is telling me.

“You have two weeks to confirm she is mine. If she is, we take them both on Rain’s twenty-first birthday and as a reward for all your hard work, Rain will be yours.”

Mine?

I’ve never been given anyone as a gift before.

Well, not in this capacity. To have such a responsibility.

“Send me the details. I will get started tomorrow.” I remain neutral in my response, not wanting to show my excitement.

He pats my shoulder. “Of course.” Then walks away, ending the conversation.

I am left in the room alone.

Looking into the fire, the yellows, reds, and oranges hypnotize me as they dance before me.

Rain Mills.

My new obsession.

Her room smells of the fresh flowers on her dresser, which appear to have been picked from her front garden.

After taking what I need for the DNA test, I snoop around her room, of course .

A few pictures of her and her mom decorate the space.

She is fucking gorgeous. The obsession became more real as I took her in.

The feeling of her presence in that room was strong. Standing over her bed, it felt like she was almost there with me, as if I were looking down at her sleeping.

I can feel it.

Her energy matches mine, but it has never been given the opportunity like mine to come out and shine.

The need to protect is new to me. But for her, I will do it.

She is still too innocent for this world, but I plan to change that.

Stepping back, a picture of her on her nightstand catches my eye, dark black hair, hazel eyes, and a bright smile stares back at me. Delicate pale skin and her cute nose.

Picking up the cheap plastic white frame, my finger traces along her face.

Captivated.

She is mine.

I just got back into town.

Impulse took over, and now I am here at the tattoo shop, which also does my piercings .

I’m giving her something no one else has had. Something that is truly and only hers.

Rain possesses me.

I am all fucking hers.

Shane’s annoying voice interrupts my thoughts, “You can’t fuck for a few weeks after you do this.”

Laying on the piercing table, my soft cock hangs out of my pants. “I don’t care, just do it.”

My tone is short and impatient.

I won’t be fucking anyone else ever again.

She won’t be mine for a couple more weeks. It’s plenty of time for it to heal.

His gloved hands grip me. He was going to use a clamp, but I told him to man up, it’s just a dick.

My eyes focus on his movements as the thick, large needle pierces through my sensitive head.

I know my pupils are dilated. It happens when I play with my human toys, and I am experiencing the same feeling with this.

Excitement, the thrill, it’s fucking beautiful.

He reaches for the barbell jewelry and pushes it behind the needle, following it through my cock.

The needle finishes threading through my flesh, and the end of the barbell joins as he twists the ball on tightly.

As he finishes cleaning off the area, which barely even bled, I think about how my entire life was leading up to this moment.

My mind and body have never reacted this way to another human, these feelings are unfamiliar and uncomfortable. Her name has ignited something inside of me. Woken a beast I didn’t know was there. This beast isn’t like my others. It causes warmth in my chest just by thinking of her.

Then the need to see her and be near her takes over.

Sitting up, I grip the waist of my jeans and quickly slide them up my legs, and I hop down off the table.

“Dude, chill. Be gentle. You don’t want that shit getting caught on anything. It will fucking hurt like nothing you have felt before,” my piercer warns.

Ignoring him, I finish doing up my jeans and reach into my pants pocket for my cash. I toss a couple hundred dollar bills on the bed behind me and leave.

He’s used to me.

But this is not something that I am used to.

The overwhelming urgency.

And it all stems from a name.

Rain Mills.

You are coming home.

You. Are. Mine.

The End.