Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CELESTE
“Subtle and insubstantial, the expert leaves no trace; divinely mysterious, he is inaudible. Thus he is master of his enemy's fate.” - Sun Tzu, The Art of War
I’m starting to get restless waiting for whatever this guy has planned for us.
There’s no doubt that he’s been torturing Samantha.
From what I can see from here, she has marks on her body and she’s in this stoic state.
She stares forward silently and hasn’t said much to us since we were brought here.
This isn’t normal for her, most of the time you can’t get her to shut up.
She has no fight in her. It’s as if she’s waiting for death to come and end her permanently.
He hasn’t been back since he gave us what you could call a meal and his chants.
There’s no way to tell how long we’ve been here but it feels like we’ve been down here for a few days considering we’re chained up and have nothing but time to dwell on.
There’s no windows letting us know if it’s day or night and no clocks.
The only thing I know is that when I was taken, it was near midnight.
It’s like we’re in a real-life crime documentary.
Three girls, chains, and torture. Who will be the one to get out and get help before the others are killed?
There’s no way in hell it’ll be me; I won’t leave them here, even if it takes my life instead.
I shift from the nasty mattress and the sudden sting in my shoulder causes me to wince.
My mind starts reeling as my plans have been altered.
The plan was to get myself captured, the tracker was supposed to keep the boys close and get in and out with Samantha.
We would then take The Jawbreaker and literally break him, but he's smart. I have no idea how he found the tracker, but he seems to always be one step ahead. There’s no doubt the boys have figured out they can no longer find me and now are most likely dealing with the FBI now that Monroe is in the mix.
I take the time of silence to run through the events in the alley and everything down here, but there’s so much in between I can't remember.
He stuck me in the neck and the last thing I remember was instantly losing consciousness.
Whatever he gave me was strong because it kept me out long enough to get me down here and tied up.
He must have done the same with Monroe. But if she was following me, how did he have time to knock me out, cut out my tracker, and take her?
Unless he had knocked us both out, checked us both, and then disposed of our things.
I would pay money to get inside of his mind to see how it works.
The door unlocks from the top of the stairs and squeals open.
There’s thudding down the stairs which snaps me out of the trance I was in and notice he’s back but pulling a horse trough and hose along with him.
Once he gets to the bottom, he moves the trough to sit in front of me and places one end of the hose inside of it while he drags the other end to a faucet.
He turns the handle and water starts spewing into the trough.
I catch a glimpse of Monroe and her eyes are wide with realization of what he’s going to do.
My first form of torture is going to be drowning.
Lovely. I’ve used this method a few times and it’s definitely effective for the weak but it’s going to take more to break me.
I stay silent though because he doesn’t need to know that.
“Celeste, so glad you’re awake. I’ve given you some time to think about your sins. Tell me, are you ready to repent?” He gives me a simple smile as he steps in front of me.
A laugh breaks free as I stare up at him.
I can’t take this guy seriously. He truly believes he’s God or close to it and that we owe him any confession, apology, or whatever the hell he wants from me.
My eyes shift to Samantha and she’s staring over at us with wide eyes and hands shaking.
She’s terrified of what’s coming for me.
I move over to Monroe and she’s stiff as a board giving me a look as if telling me not to provoke him and just give him what he wants but I won’t. It’s not in my nature.
“Hello, Oliver. Which sin would you like? I have many and it’s hard to just pick one. We can play a game, though. You give me a sin and I’ll give you one,” I challenge him.
I can list many for him if he needs help. I wonder if his savor approves of his actions. Him and I are alike in many ways. I, however, kill scumbags. I enjoy the thrill it provides me. Maybe that’s what it is for him, the thrill.
“You’re not in a position to make demands now, are you? Tell me, does Agent Solace know that he’s sleeping with a sinner? Does Agent Monroe know that her partner is sleeping with a criminal?” He paces back and forth in front of me as if he’s an animal in a cage waiting to be let out.
Alaric's last name rolling off his tongue makes me pause. Of course he knows who Alaric is as they’ve met in person before he could confirm Oliver was the killer.
But what really strikes me is the fact that he knows our close relationship.
He knew who his next victim was going to be.
He wanted someone close to Alaric and he chose me.
He took someone close to me knowing I would come after her, but was also very aware of my background. Monroe was just a bonus.
“I mean he knows I own a strip club. Didn’t realize that was a sin. He seemed excited about it, in fact. Tell me, did you enjoy watching me? Will you confess to that?” I provoke him. I should probably keep my mouth in check but I simply can’t help it.
The next thing I know, his hand goes flying across my face. My head snaps to the side and I can taste copper pooling in my mouth. I turn my head to him and smile as I can feel substance run down my chin. I let out a primal cackle which makes him knit his eyebrows together.
“Your mouth is going to get you in trouble, girl. Confess or I’ll be forced to cleanse you,” he shouts.
He looks over at the trough that is nearly filled to the brim and walks over to the faucet and shuts it off.
He begins whispering to himself as he circles the room.
It’s like he’s arguing with himself or talking to some imaginary friend.
His palm comes to his forehead as he hits it over and over before he steps in front of me.
It’s like he’s contemplating and arguing with someone inside his head.
Suddenly, he pauses and turns slowly towards me with a manic smile and launches towards me.
The action takes me by surprise and he wraps my hair to the scalp around his hand and drags me to the trough.
My ankle strains by the movement being that it’s chained and I can barely move another inch.
He throws me into the side of it and before I know it, my head is under water.
I can feel the panic rising but I try to push it down.
I don’t try to fight him. My head is yanked up and I gasp for a breath before I’m plunged back into the water.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
I count in my head to distract myself and by the time I hit thirty, I’m being pulled back to the surface. I can hear screams telling him to stop and let me go but I can’t tell them to stop. I need them to stay quiet so they don’t take any of the torture. They would break but I won’t.
“Confess. Confess and you will be set free,” he demands. He yanks my hair back so I can look up at him.
“You first. Did you enjoy watching me?” I taunt him. He snarls and dunks my head back into the water.
I go to a place where pain can’t touch me.
I let the darkness seep in as it’s the only place I can’t feel.
My racing heart calms but this time he keeps me under longer and my lungs burn.
He pulls me back up as he begins to chant.
I take in as much air as I can before I go back under.
Once he stops talking, I go under again and again.
I can feel my body start to give out, but I try to hold on as much as possible to make him tired enough to be done for the night and leave the others alone.
“Shame. Shame. Shame. Confess to the Lord for He is a forgiving man. Confess to purify your heart.” His frustration is seeping and on the edge of snapping any patience that he has.
“Do you know why they call me the Reaper?” I purr at him, causing him to still. “Because I will make your pain slow and agonizing but I’ll rip your soul out without batting an eye. I don’t believe in your God but I do believe in hell and you’ll be right there with me.”
His eyes go wide as he traces a cross on his chest and he dunks me back under, this time with both hands.
He’s shoving my shoulders hard, shaking me as he drowns my life away.
Two minutes, I count two minutes before I’m yanked up and thrown against the wall.
My shoulder takes the brunt of it, causing it to dislocate.
My eyes start to blur from the pain and I slump down onto the mattress that I conveniently landed on.
The door slams shut followed by the locks and we’re left alone with nothing but silence and ragged breathing.
Ididn’t realize that I dozed off until my eyes peel open to someone whispering my name.
The first thing I notice is my drowning device is gone and a plate of cheese, water, and a piece of bread is waiting for me on a foam plate.
I try to push myself up but wince at the pain in my shoulder.
Once I’m finally sitting up with my back up against the wall, I bring my hand up and waste no time popping it back into place.
“Fuck, that was a good one,” I announce to no one in particular.
“Are you insane?” I hear Monroe's annoying voice and scrunch my nose.
“Officially not diagnosed, but I’ve been told so. Hello to you too and you’re welcome.” I give her the most cunning smile I can muster.