CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
The first: ‘The God’s Soldiers Church got back to me.’
The second: ‘We’ve been invited.’
And the third: ‘It’s in Essex.’
It was finally happening. I was going to find my mother.
Why do you even want to find that woman? We're better off without her.
The Devil’s hatred for my mother went deeper than mine. I suspected it had a lot to do with her attempt to exorcise him from me all those years ago. In his eyes, she was the villain of this story. But perhaps things weren’t so black and white.
In the passenger seat of Nathaniel’s car, I reread the emailed response from the God's Soldiers Church, scoffing at the phrase righteous path which had been repeated numerous times alongside God's calling and holy war.
Had Joe been following a righteous path when he bedded a married woman?
Was it God's calling to lock said married woman's son up in a dark mirrored room with only a pool of water and the Devil for company?
"Do you think he knows he is being manipulative?" I asked, returning Nathaniel's phone. "Or do you think he genuinely believes in what he is saying?"
"Based on what we learned last semester…
I'd say yeah, he knows he's being manipulative," he mused, fingers drumming against the steering wheel as we waited at a traffic light.
"But he probably believes in it, too. I'd pay to be a fly on the wall—or I guess universe—when people like him die and wake up in Hell instead of Heaven. "
I snorted. "Me too."
We reached Essex in just over an hour, travelling down unmaintained roads ravaged by weeds, scattered twigs snapping beneath our tires.
Trees lined either side of the dirt, their twisted limbs shrouding us in darkness.
The car’s headlights were our only source of light, streetlamps a luxury reserved for the city.
The GPS led us down a narrow road, Nathaniel and I swaying back and forth as his tires rolled over dips and cracks.
Up ahead, a one-story building was tucked in between tall oak trees, its grey bricks crawling with moss and ivy.
A large pale blue banner hung across the front entrance reading The Church of God’s Soldiers.
Trees crowded the dirt covered driveway; fallen leaves scattered along the dry grass.
It reminded me of the House on North Lane and the woods that guarded it.
Nathaniel parked the car and climbed out with no hesitation.
I, on the other hand, grew weary. As soon as Joe laid eyes on me, our cover would be blown.
Although it had been over ten years since he’d seen me, on my knees and gasping for air, I had no doubt he’d recognise the devil within.
Not to mention I had the same mess of brown curls and a permanent scowl that only Nathaniel and Auden seemed able to chase away.
I remained frozen inside the car until Nathaniel moved around to my side and opened the door, his long legs bending as he crouched down and reached for my hand. “This is the moment you’ve been waiting for, right? Your mother could be in there.”
That evil witch? We should leave immediately.
I swallowed hard. If my mother was inside, would she recognise me? Would she still think I was possessed by the Devil, or would she finally see her son? All these questions raced through my mind, sending my heart beating a million miles per hour.
“Augustus…” Nathaniel said soothingly, “...I’ll be with you the whole time. I promise.”
I allowed him to pull me to my feet and guide me toward the door, his hand warm in mine.
There was no doorbell, so Nathaniel raised his fist and knocked.
I inhaled sharply and held my breath, anticipating recognition crossing Joe’s face before he banished me without hearing a word I had to say.
Only it wasn’t Joe who answered the door, it was a thin young woman in a long, brown linen skirt and a beige crochet cardigan over a plain beige tank top.
Her long brown hair was tied back in a single fish-tail braid, her raven-coloured eyes darting from Nathaniel and I with confusion.
“Hi!” Nathaniel greeted the woman with a flash of his disarming smile. The woman brightened to him immediately as he said, “My name is Nathaniel. I was invited here by Joseph Kade.”
“Oh, yes, Nathaniel,” she smiled with yellow teeth, the front two chipped and crooked, “Joe is expecting you.” Her gaze drifted to me, her smile fading, “Only…you.”
“Ah, yes, this is my…boyfriend,” Nathaniel said.
My heart fluttered at the word boyfriend, only to immediately crumble when the woman narrowed her eyes.
“You are both men,” she said.
I was about to grab Nathaniel’s arm to leave when he opened his mouth to speak, his voice smooth and steady as he said, “Yes, well, that’s kind of why we’ve sought out a community that will help us…be sinners no more.”
It hurt to be called a sinner, but I knew Nathaniel was just trying to grant us entry. And it was working. The woman’s suspicions vanished, and she nodded, opening the door wider to let us in. “Of course. We welcome anyone who wants to be saved.”
We followed the woman down an empty hallway with cracked, floral wallpaper, the green, red and brown colours desaturated with age. At the end of the hallway, there were plastic chairs scattered across the wooden floor, dark stains almost resembling blood.
A large statue of the cross hung in the centre of the back wall, a small black table in front of it with a Bible, a candle, and a framed photo of Joe. It was unclear whether the God's Soldiers used this room to worship God or their leader.
As we entered a second hallway—this one decorated with religious memorabilia—we heard the faint sound of church hymns from outside. I glanced out the window overlooking the backyard just as the woman said, “That’s our choir. They’re practicing for tonight’s sermon.”
There were a group of six women and three men of various ages standing barefoot in the grass, one bald headed man standing across from them, moving his hands like a conductor. I searched the faces for my mother, but none belonged to her.
The woman knocked on a door at the end of the hall. It had a small plaque hanging eye level that read ‘Captain’. I rolled my eyes. Did he really think they were God’s Soldiers, and he was some kind of Captain? It was deranged. Utterly delusional.
“Enter.”
Run. Now. Run.
The familiar voice set the Devil wild inside of me.
He thrashed against my walls, begging to take control of my body so we could flee.
I hadn't expected such a violent response, but then the mirrored room flashed behind my eyelids with every blink—the water, the chains, the isolation.
I took an involuntary step back from the door, but Nathaniel reached for my hand, squeezing it gently before I could run.
Words were exchanged between Joe and the woman before the door opened wider and Nathaniel and I were allowed inside.
The ‘Captain’s’ office had been invaded by mold, black blotches crawling along the peeling wallpaper like bruises on a decaying corpse.
It was small, with only enough space for one tall bookshelf pressed up against the left corner and a desk, the wooden floorboards speckled with dust. An earthy dampness thickened the air, every inhale poison.
I tried to hold my breath, but the sight of Joe knocked it out of me.
He was seated behind the desk, a framed photo of him and his followers hanging on the wall behind him. His hair had greyed, but his eyes maintained the cold menace I remembered when he locked me in that mirrored room.
He rose to his feet to shake Nathaniel’s hand, but when his eyes landed on me, he paused, hand slowly dropping to his side.
Run! Run! Run!
I met his gaze, daring him to throw me out, banish me, create a scene in front of all his devoted followers. I wasn’t that same scared little boy anymore. There was no way he would have the power to lock me inside a dark room ever again.
“You’ve grown,” were his first words to me as he slowly sunk down into his chair.
“You’ve aged,” was my response.
Joe seemed to forget all about Nathaniel as he assessed me. “What are you doing here?”
“Where is my mother?” I demanded.
A flicker of confusion crossed his wrinkled face, his lips parting as if to speak, only to hang open without a word. I didn’t understand what he expected. Why else would I have visited this wicked hell hole?
“My mother,” I repeated, frustrated at his lack of response, “where is she?”
“Not here.”
“Then you won’t mind if we look around and–” Nathaniel started, but I cut him off by taking a step forward, hands pressed flat against the dust covered desk.
“Where. Is. She?”
Joe leaned back in his seat, hands falling comfortably to his lap. “Why now? It’s been what…ten years?”
“Answer the damn question!”
“As I said, she’s not here,” Joe said, jaw clenched. “Have you tried North Lane?”
Run!
“What?”
“North Lane.” It was Joe’s turn to repeat himself now. “Have you looked there?”
No. I had not. I had sworn never to return to that place and had assumed my mother would have done the same. The memories were unpleasant. For both of us. “Why would she be there?”
Joe opened his mouth to answer when the door to his office burst open, and three women entered, not at all surprised to see that Nathaniel and I were standing in front of them.
“It’s time, Captain!” one of the women announced.
With a plastered smile, Joe nodded and rose to his feet. With a dismissive glance my way, he said, “Don’t come here again.”
I stared after him, mouth agape. Nathaniel reached for my hand once we were alone in the office, his thumb brushing my knuckles gently. “Should we…visit North Lane, then?”
“No,” I said immediately, yanking my hand back. “No, he’s lying! Or keeping something from me! That house is…it’s abandoned.”
“Why would he lie?”
“To draw me away,” I said, my feet guiding me out of the office and down the hall before I could hear Nathaniel’s response.
He’s hiding something. He’s hiding something. He’s hiding something.
The light in the hallway flickered violently and followed me toward the back garden where Joe and the women had disappeared.
“Joe!” I yelled.
Every head turned my way, a blend of bewilderment, confusion and anger. Joe's eyes narrowed to slits as he trailed his eyes up and down my body.
“It’s still in you, isn’t it?” he asked quietly.
I paused, my resolve fading at the realisation that Nathaniel would bear witness to this—would learn about the Devil inside of me. Up until now, it was a mere metaphor. But if he heard any more of this conversation, he would know the truth.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lied. “Where is my mother?”
“I already told you, dear boy,” he said, his followers parting like the red sea as he moved toward me. “She’s in North Lane. But I can’t let you return to her…not with the Devil eating at your soul.”
“Oh, save him!” one of the women said. Her bronze hair was tied up in a bun, loose strands decorating the side of her freckled cheeks. “Save his soul!”
“He doesn’t need saving.” It was Nathaniel. He stood beside me, one hand on my shoulder as he stared Joe down. “There is no Devil.”
Joe titled his head to the side. “Has he told you, boy? Has he told you about–”
“ENOUGH!” I shouted. Dark clouds swallowed the sun, the back garden shrouded in a grey gloom. I could feel the Devil stirring, threatening to come out. I held him back, not wanting Nathaniel to see.
“Let’s go, Augustus,” Nathaniel whispered gently in my ear. “There is nothing more for us here.”
Trembling, I turned to follow Nathaniel—turned to leave Joe and this quest to find my mother behind. But Joe’s voice made me halt. He recited familiar words—words I could not understand but recognised from that night in North Lane.
The exorcism, the demon hissed.
Alarmed, I reached for Nathaniel’s hand. I heard him shout something, a warning, and then everything went black.
***
I awoke to the sound of my name. It was soft, gentle—an angelic hymn that silenced the Devil, though my head still pounded as though his fists were slamming against my skull.
“What…happened?”
Nathaniel tucked a curl behind my ear, expression grim. "You were drugged." He turned his head to reveal a trickle of dry blood on the side of his neck. "Me too."
My fingers traced the red line of blood along his neck, a flood of anger cascading through my veins. He'd gotten hurt. Because of me. Who knew what else they would do?
You know. You know what they will do.
The Devil hovered behind Nathaniel, black eyes wet with unshed tears. He blinked, slowly, lips pressed together as though he were in pain. I averted my gaze, only for the Devil to appear to my left. And then again to my right. I inhaled sharply.
Mirrors.
Memories of the mirrored room flashed behind my closed eyelids as I buried my face in my hands, hiding from the mirror's cruel torment. The Devil and I were inseparable here. There was nowhere for me to hide.
“The door is locked,” Nathaniel spoke up. “I heard voices outside a few minutes ago, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying.”
“We need to get out of here,” I said, voice muffled. I refused to lift my head in case Nathaniel caught my reflection in the mirror.
"There are no windows. No other exits other than the locked door.”
“We need to get out of here,” I repeated.
“We will,” Nathaniel assured me, his fingers finding my chin, tilting my head up to look at him. “But we’ll need to wait.”
“Wait?”
“Someone will open the door eventually,” he said, “and when they do, it’ll be our chance to escape.”
“There’s just one problem,” I said, slowly glancing down at my feet which were chained to the shallow pool of water at our feet.
Nathaniel followed my gaze. “Fuck.” He tugged at the chains, the iron slicing at my flesh. “FUCK!”
A droplet of blood danced through the dark water. “You’re not restrained,” I observed. “You can leave. If we create a distraction and–”
“No,” he cut me off, shaking his head, “I’m not leaving you.”
“You have to,” I said, “it’s my fault you’re even in this mess. Joe doesn’t want you. He wants me.”
“I don’t give a fuck,” Nathaniel said. “I’m not leaving you. We’re going to get out of here. Together.”
“And how do you propose we do that?”
“We wait.”
“That’s what you said before.”
“I know, I’m pretty consistent, aren’t I?” he teased.
“Nathaniel–”
“Just trust me, okay?”
“I do trust you but–”
“We’re going to get out of here,” Nathaniel said, cupping either side of my face. “Just follow my lead, okay? We spent a whole term learning about the psychological manipulation of cults. I think I may have picked up a thing or two.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying…” he turned his head toward the door, “...I’m going to manipulate Joe into letting us go.”
I shook my head. “He wouldn’t do that.”
“He would…if he believed it was God’s will.”