Chapter 4 #2
It’s nauseating, the crunch of bone and cartilage.
Her scream pierces the air, causing Marshall to turn his back on his own fight.
It’s an all-out bloodbath from that point.
Hudson’s terrified cries make my jaw clench, but if I so much as move a muscle, I’ll be running The Gauntlet, too.
It feels like ages pass before Tobias activates the stun collar on the dog that’s attacking Marshall.
His body is littered with bites, but now the true punishment begins.
With his strength evaporated, he’s forced to lie there, bloody and trembling from the pain as Catalina continues to be ravaged.
It’s only a few seconds more, but without the accompaniment of his own screams, hers are amplified.
The calculated move is meant to remind him that anything—especially the things you love and care about—will be used to bend and break you.
That particular ruthlessness is one of the many reasons why I’ve refused to bear a child for Tobias.
It’s hard enough trying to keep my own head above water without constantly fearing for a far more fragile life.
Once the dogs are restrained, two figureheads move in to cart them off to their kennels, where they’ll be left to rot in their own filth until they're needed again. It’s a vicious cycle with no end in sight.
Marshall and Catalina are taken to the infirmary, where their wounds will be given a cursory examination.
They’ll stitch the ones that need it and pump them full of antibiotics to ward off any infections.
Tomorrow, it’ll be like nothing ever happened.
Forgoing a proper dismissal, I rush to Hudson, who’s inconsolable, his tear-streaked face contorted with terror.
He clings to me, burrowing his face against my neck.
As Tobias drones on about the sanctity of remaining pure and untouched, I blank my thoughts and softly stroke the curls at the nape of Hudson’s neck.
I sense her before I see her, like a low-hanging storm cloud preparing to drench the earth with its wrath.
The hairs along my arms stand to attention, but I strive my hardest to appear nonplussed by her closeness.
“Your disrespect will be the end of you, girl. Tobias could have chosen any Tainted he liked, but you somehow dug your claws in and pulled the wool over his eyes. He might be blind to your wickedness, but I see right through you. Your feigned submission won’t cut it forever, and The Divine as my witness, I’ll see you hanged in The Atrium if your subordination persists.
” Ada’s threat rolls over me, dread invading my veins at the possibility she has legitimate proof of my deceit, or if it’s simply an educated guess she can’t confirm.
I want to blame her for going along with this fatuous narrative, but she genuinely believes that Veritas’ indoctrination methods have merit.
She’s the product of an expertly executed brainwashing that spans generations, and her unfailing loyalty only solidifies their beliefs.
Ada delights in being paraded before the Tainted as a show of what their subservience can result in.
She’s too far gone to reason with, and any hopes I had of forging a kinship with her were dashed long ago.
As Tobias releases us, he ends his speech the same as Kennedy would, adding, “Watchful is the eye…”
“And the eye is thee,” I whisper in unison with the crowd's reply.
I used to think that line was laughable, that some omnipotent being was aware of what’s taking place behind closed doors, and by default, The Order of Veritas.
That plausibility doesn’t feel so far-fetched anymore; they seem to know everything.
I can only hope it proves false, because whether I’m prepared to or not, I have to make contact with Raiden.
It’s been too risky to attempt slipping away recently, but Hudson won’t make it much longer without sustaining the kind of damage his poor little mind won’t come back from.
Even now, he’s going to suffer immensely.
When the sun sets and Tobias retreats to our bedroom, I quietly excuse myself to tend to Hudson.
It doesn’t take him long to fall asleep, but nervousness keeps me immobile for far too long.
I carefully exit the house and head for the eastern corner of the compound, my heart thumping so furiously, I fear it might give out.
If I hadn’t traversed this path so often over the years, it’d be impossible to find my way.
The moon is nonexistent, blanketing the property in a darkness so impenetrable it feels ominous.
With the added weight of Hudson, my steps aren’t nearly light enough to avoid detection if someone happens to be patrolling.
I squeeze my eyes shut, whispering a thousand curses to the empty air.
When I finally reach my destination, I’m out of breath and trembling from head to toe.
I drop to my knees, wincing as the coarse dirt grates against my flesh.
Shoving my hand inside the rotted log, I hastily search for the burner phone I last laid eyes on nearly three weeks ago.
When my fingers connect with the edge of it, I exhale audibly.
As quickly as possible, I press the power button, thanking my past self for having the forethought to use Tobias’ charger the last time I risked having it on my person.
Despite it being a horrible idea, I’m left with no choice but to use the flash.
Snapping a picture of Hudson, I add a short voice memo, stressing how imperative it is that they respond with urgency.
I hit the send button, impatiently waiting for it to read delivered before powering it back off.
Shaking like a leaf, I retrace my steps to House Stillwater, flinching at every sound that disturbs the quiet.
For the first time since I was a little girl, I pray.
I’m not convinced someone’s actually listening, seeing as every plea I’ve ever made has fallen on deaf ears.
I can’t speak to the existence of God when there hasn’t been a single instance in my life that would warrant convincing me he’s real.
But Hell? Hell exists. It’s the forsaken patch of earth within these walls where innocence comes to die.
There’s no respite from the torment, though I can’t think of a single thing I’ve done that would justify such a harsh judgment.
Perhaps I was a horrible human being in another place and time, but I’d wager that evil is just a fact of life.