53. Cin
Cin
Crickets sing, and my head spins, my eyes are heavy, and my tongue is dry. I can’t feel my fingers, and my breaths are light, as if my lungs are floating in water. Branches creak and crack above me as the clouds leave my eyes.
It’s dark, much darker than I remember it being before that fucker drugged me.
Voices drift around me, and when I turn my head, I find my nightmare. People dressed in blue robes dot the space, their murmurs reach my ears, and it hits me. They’re excited for this, I try moving my legs, but find my ankles tethered to the trees at my feet.
“What…” my voice is gone, only a small wheeze leaves me. I pull my legs, and arms, willing them to move, to break the bonds that tie me to the trees.
The leather digs into my skin, leaving red marks as I struggle. I growl in frustration, and one of the robed figures appears, pushing his hood back. I make out his features in the low moonlight.
Cody smiles at me, “this will all be over soon. Don’t move too much, Cinny-Mae.”
I can’t speak, unwilling to even try. He’s going to stand there while my own father kills me, and he has the gall to tell me not to move?
Lifting his hood back over his head, he slinks back into the growing crowd. It’s alarming, and I almost give up hope that anyone is coming for me.
Leaves rustle, and I hear a twig snap not far from me. Turning my head to the other side, I find the lake, it’s almost peaceful. The surface ripples with soft waves lapping at the sandy shore. No one stands on that side, only among the trees.
“The time has come,” I hear Serge’s voice boom over the crowd, and I must still be out of it because I don’t remember seeing him anywhere among the crowd. “Daughter of my blood, I’m going to make you a Goddess, and in return, our followers will be given riches beyond their wildest dreams.”
Turning my head back toward the crowd, I spot him walking amidst the robed people. Something gleams in the moonlight against his side. A knife, long and sharp, hangs off his hip, and I panic, thrashing against the leather that bites into my wrists and ankles.
“No!” I scream, my voice impossibly loud in the silence of the trees.
“Shhhh, mi hija,” he says, laying his hand on my forehead and sweeping my hair back. “You’re going to be their savior.”