Chapter 30 - Scarlett
Scarlett
When my brain started clawing its way out of the depths of thick fog, I found that I was still laying down.
It took a little longer for the fog to clear, but once it finally did, I focused again on what I could feel, hear, and smell.
There were no shackles around my wrists or ankles this time, but I could feel bandages everywhere.
My arms, my legs, my stomach, my neck. Everywhere Azrael had left a mark, they had gone through, attempting to erase his touch with their own.
I felt a buzzing kind of numb spreading slowly over my body and wondered if that was the medicine the doctor had given me to keep the pain away.
I truly disklike that. It felt as if I were stunted, as if I were half of what I could be.
The smell was musty but sickly sweet. I could smell sex, urine, and cigarette smoke covered by a strong-smelling perfume or…incense maybe? It was difficult to tell.
It took several seconds for my mind to register the muffled talking and heavy footsteps beneath me, immediately telling me that I was on the second or third floor. They were male, their steps heavy and accompanied by creaks, telling me that the building was old.
An old building filled with discarded Favorites.
Sometimes I wondered about fate.
It felt like fate when I first felt those warm eyes on me. When I first heard the voice of the ghost that had haunted me. It felt like fate when he chose me. When he gave me a voice, freedom, strength.
But this also felt like fate. I had finally admitted to Azrael the truth about coming here. He asked me to stay, and I stayed.
Yet I still ended up here.
Laying in a bed in Absolution.
I didn’t need anyone to tell me that’s where I was, because I felt it in my bones. Where else would they take me but the place where Favorites go to die?
After all, I was the epitome of a Favorite. I was the wife of Azrael Thorin. The coveted blessing of the church, stolen from them by a man who ended up being the son of the Founder they all worshiped.
Whatever they did to me, whatever they put me through, I would endure it all knowing that I had conquered Azrael, and if I could conquer him, I could conquer this.
I couldn’t feel any eyes on me or any presence around, so maybe it was safe. Maybe I could at least memorize the room they had put me in before they even knew the drugs had worn off.
Even so, it took me several seconds of concentration on my own gut instincts before I finally opened my eyes.
The first thing I saw was the ceiling. It had once been painted a beautiful, bright white, but the paint had long since began to peel away, grime covering even the boards above me. Among the peeling, ugly paint, was a verse that looked brand new and was painted black.
Revelation 21:27
Nothing impure will ever enter it, nor will anyone who does what is shameful or deceitful, but only those whose names are written in the Lamb’s book of life.
I stared at it for a long time. I didn’t have to consider what it meant, I knew what it meant. At least my interpretation of it. The impure, upon their death, would be delivered to the gates of Hell.
They were trying to enforce what the church had tried to teach us. Only the pure deserve to live in this holy world.
I refocused myself on the task at hand, realizing that it had been careless never to have considered that Absolution would be exactly like the church.
Would there be sermons? Would there be a Pastor? Were all the rooms we were in going to be considered the same as the Back Hall or were there separate rooms for things such as that?
I released a slow breath and flexed my fingers, testing my muscles.
They all felt stiff, but there was still not an ounce of pain.
I wondered how long it would take for the pain to hit me.
I suppose as long as it took for the cuts to heal enough not to threaten infection.
They couldn’t risk losing me so soon after finally getting me back.
Slowly, I pulled my arms back and pushed myself to a sit, taking in the room.
There was another bed in here, located in the far corner. It was made, small, just like mine, covered in a ratty blue comforter, the same verse above it that was painted above mine.
The walls were once painted a bright pink, all faded, chipped, and peeling, three old wooden crosses hung perfectly in the center of the wall behind the other bed.
In the center of the wall to my left was a small window, bars on the outside.
Maybe someone had tried to escape once. Bars were smart, but there was always other means of escape.
There was also a dresser that had once been painted pink, only chunks of that color remaining. The floor had an old ratty rug on it, the pattern near faded away, and I could see the wooden floor around the edges.
There was a box filled with old stuffed animals, all dirty, missing limbs or eyes, some were even stitched together as if the person who ran this place couldn’t be bothered to replace them.
All in all, the room was small, painted and stocked to resemble a little girl’s room.
I glanced at the door, listening carefully for several seconds before swinging my legs over the edge of the bed and pushing myself to a stand. I tested each leg, simultaneously testing the floorboards. It was going to be hard to sneak around this place, but I could adapt.
After deciding my muscles were good enough, I crept over to the window on the tips of my toes, wincing at the one creak I met on my way there. If the men downstairs were observant, they would have heard that and would be on their way up right now, which meant I had very little time to look around.
Outside the window, there was nothing, but an endless sea of rolling hills filled with trees. No landmarks, not even a single mountain in the distance.
I had no idea how fast they had been driving, what vehicle they used, or even how long I had been in that vehicle.
There was a small chance they even used a plane.
That happened on one of Greyson’s assignments a few years ago.
The woman he was after had gotten on a plane in the middle of the woods and headed West. He caught her a week later in Hawaii.
If it was a plane, a small one would get anywhere from 150 to 200 miles away in one hour, double that and I could be in an entirely different state. If we had been driving at high speeds, in three hours, I would still be roughly 200 miles away, and that was just an estimate.
Maybe I was only 20 miles away from where they left Azrael.
20 miles. I could walk 20 miles. It was nothing.
But what if it was 200? What if I was in a completely different state?
I had never been out of state, but I studied them during my training.
There were a lot of places around the world that could look just like this. Hundreds of them.
I released a slow breath, staring out across those trees, the rain still pouring. Okay, all I could do now was focus, and he had given me instructions before he asked me to stay. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to keep the fear from taking control.
Follow the instincts we had been building for months.
Do whatever I had to do to survive.
He would find me, and while he searched, I would work on leaving this place. I was not going to stay here. They were nothing compared to me. Nothing.
I was royalty.
I heard the creak of a floorboard just down the hall and felt that fear nearly take me to my knees.
It was an effort to swallow it, to focus and fall back on my training alone.
No emotion but the rage that had been burning within me for years.
The only way I could survive this is to erase who I was and become something else.
Fall back on my training, become who they had created, and erase everything else.
Every ounce.
On a slow exhale, I turned, folding my hands behind my back and lifting my chin, allowing a smile to grace my face.
“Smile,” I heard Azrael hum within me, his voice as clear as if he were whispering in my ear. “It will keep them guessing and remind you that you are always the one in control. They’ll get the message soon enough.”
I was in control. Whatever they did. Whatever choices they made, I was now the true puppeteer.
The door opened and a woman walked in, her eyes immediately finding mine.
She was taller than I was, but that was probably due to the mountainous bright red heels she was wearing.
They paired well with her deep blue pants suit and white blouse.
Her lipstick was brighter than her heels, although painted on thin lips, it caused her mouth to look more like a slit of blood cut across a wrinkled, cakey face.
She had on far too much mascara that ringed around her eyes, causing them to look far too small, the blue piercing.
The woman smiled, reminding me of an old rubber band unable to snap back. “I see you’re feeling quite peppy. Did you enjoy your nap?” she asked, a slight accent coming through.
I continued to smile, showing my teeth, just as Azrael had always done.
Her own smile became tight. “I heard you didn’t speak, Chosen One,” she hummed, folding her hands together at her waist. “Garrett’s son trained you well, didn’t he? But by the eye contact, I see it wasn’t well enough. Or was that your dear husband who broke everything Thomas so carefully built?”
I angled my head to one side, my still damp hair falling across my features. Broke? Is that what they thought he did? Break me?
I straightened. “I know Malachi is behind this. I know he put me here,” I signed. “We don’t have to play games.”
She watched my hand motions until I was done before her eyes found mine. “There’s no point, precious child, we don’t concern ourselves with learning the language of lesser people.”
My smile only widened. Oh, won’t this be fun.
“Well, I suppose I know your name, Scarlett, but you don’t know mine,” she hummed, walking into the room, her eyes finding the made bed. “My name is Ms. Petrova,” she said, explaining the accent, “but you may call me Lady Elise.”
I wouldn’t call her anything. I wasn’t going to sign another word. I wasn’t going to make a sound unless it was the laughter falling from my lips while I sliced open their throats.
“This is Katleon, but you may call him Kat,” she introduced, gesturing towards the door.
I looked over just as a tall, slim man walked in.
He had a shaved head, his skin pale, wearing jeans, a tee, and a large leather jacket.
Both he and Lady Elise had thick, black tar dripping in their eyes, their gazes chilling.
Which was probably why he was wearing such a jacket. He must have been cold.
“He will be watching you for the foreseeable future. Don’t you worry your precious little head, Scarlett, we’ll be taking very good care of our precious Blessed One.
Oh,” she laughed, waving the words away.
“I suppose I should ask. Do you have a preference? Blessed One or Chosen One? Someone of your stature must have a preference.”
I only smiled, making sure she knew that I could see all the way down into her blackened soul.
She nodded, seemingly unfazed. “Very well. We’ll lay out the rules here soon,” she hummed. “Do you remember what those are? Rules. You’ll need to follow them in order to survive here. That is if you survive. You’ll find that there aren’t many Favorites who do.”
With that, she turned and left the room, Kat following right behind her.
Once the door was shut, I turned back to the window, looking out across the unfamiliar trees, wondering, for the last time, if Azrael had already started his search.
Focusing on him would help me survive, but not if I only thought about where he was and how close he was to finding me. He would, it was only a matter of time, until then, I would not wonder or worry. I would focus on the lessons he and the others had taught me and nothing more.
Scarlett Harris had long since been dead, and Lady Elise would realize that soon enough.