26. Chapter Twenty-Six Lakey
Chapter Twenty-Six: Lakey
The memories flooded me as we sped down the deserted highway.
Flashes of a swollen belly, aching breasts, tiny kicks from within. Then searing pain, blood-soaked sheets, hands ripping my baby away. My baby girl.
Doctors. So many men in white coats, stained with my blood. A nun. Anne? No, not Anne... someone else. God, why can't I see her face...
I gripped the steering tighter, knuckles white. Who was the father? I searched the foggy recesses of my mind but came up empty. Fucking blank. My body wasn't recoiling, it wasn't reacting. I wasn't raped... something else. It's right there, why can't I reach it?
"You okay, doll?" Cam's deep voice cut through my headphones, interrupting my spiraling thoughts.
I grimaced underneath my helmet. "Oh, I'm great. Thinking about all the fun we're gonna have."
He slowed to match my bike's pace and turned his head. "Okay, baby, if you say so."
The dilapidated orphanage loomed before us, a decrepit monstrosity of crumbling brick and shattered windows. We pulled into the parking lot and slowed. I killed the engine, and dread tightened in my gut. This place... I knew it somehow.
We approached the building, gravel crunching under our boots.
The stench of decay and mildew made me wrinkle my nose.
A rusted sign creaked in the wind: "St. Mary's Orphanage.
" God, why are all these places named so pretentiously?
Who the fuck were all these saints, because so far, I've not met a single one.
My gaze was drawn to the cracked concrete steps. For a split second, I saw a little girl with pigtails sitting there, knees pulled to her chest. She looked up at me with blue eyes. My eyes.
What the fuck? I shook my head, trying to dislodge the image.
Cam's large hand enveloped mine, squeezing gently. "Ready, babe?"
I grinned up at him, pushing away the gnawing unease. "You know it, handsome. Let's go find some answers."
As we ascended the steps, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was walking into my own personal nightmare. That somehow this place was my childhood story. Why couldn't I access the memories? Why was so much of my life just a large black hole?
Sure, the 'experts' say childhood trauma causes you to black out memories, but considering I hardly had a soul, why would mine be empty? It was as if I didn't exist before I got thrust into foster homes.
We stepped into the orphanage, the floorboards groaning beneath our weight. The air inside was thick and musty, making me sneeze. Cam chuckled and said, "bless you" and I rolled my eyes at him. Yeah. Bless me indeed. I scanned the dimly lit interior, taking in every detail.
Fuck, why did this place feel so goddamn familiar?
Cam interrupted my thoughts. "Basement?"
I nodded, my throat suddenly dry as I pulled a knife from it’s sheath. "Yeah. That's where the real fun always happens."
We moved down the hallway, more flashes played across my field of vision.
Children's laughter echoing off peeling walls.
The acrid smell of bleach. A nun's stern face looming over me.
I stumbled, my heart kicking hard. Shaking my head, I forced myself to calm.
I'd definitely been here before, but when? How?
Cam steadied me, concern on his face. "You okay, baby?"
I forced a smile. "Mhmm. Let's keep moving."
We found the spiral staircase leading to the basement.
With each step down, my sense of dread grew.
There were so many things that could be waiting for us down there.
Seeing more torture rooms, or jars with body parts might send me into a tailspin, but this was what I signed up for when I said yes, so I had to grow a pair and deal.
At the bottom, a heavy wooden door stood slightly ajar. I pushed it open, the hinges shrieking in protest. The smell hit me first. Blood and fear and pain.
"Holy shit," I whispered, taking in the scene before us.
The room was a nightmare come to life. Rusty chains hung from the ceiling. Stained surgical tools were scattered across a filthy metal table. And there, in the corner, a woman was tied to a chair, her head lolling to one side.
For a moment, I froze. The white of her gown, the positioning of the chair in the room, the way she was tied. I knew this. I knew what they were going to do to her.
"Lakey," Cam's voice cut through my panic. "What do you want to do?"
I took a deep breath, steeling myself. "We untie her. Now."
As I moved towards the woman, the thoughts kept bombarding me. She must be important to be here. Especially since it looks like this place was practically abandoned. Why do I feel like I am looking at a twisted reflection of myself?
Cam cut the ties to her hands, effortlessly lifting the unconscious woman, and cradling her against his broad chest. His face was a mask of calm efficiency, but I knew him well enough to see the tension in his jaw.
"I'll get her to safety," he said. "You keep searching. Be careful, baby."
I nodded, swallowing hard. "Always am, aren't I?"
He flashed me that crooked grin, then disappeared up the stairs with his burden.
My skin crawled with memories I couldn't quite grasp, wisps of smoke slipping through my fingers.
"Fucking nightmare of a place. Okay, let's get this show on the road," I said to the empty room, gripping my knife tighter.
I moved deeper into the basement, my footsteps echoing in the silence.
Each door I passed sent a chill through me.
What horrors lay behind them? What answers?
I never opened them to find out, opting to look in through the window in the top half of the door.
These were observation windows, and each one held a different type of room.
One was empty, with a bloodied pillow in the corner.
One had blocks, kid's toys. It was painted warmly, almost welcoming.
The next made my stomach turn. Old, dried blood splattered across the walls, a shattered plate, smears that looked like a body had been dragged around.
Fucking hell.
As I turned a corner, something tugged at me. Not physically, but a feeling. A pull. Like a string tied around my heart, leading me forward.
"What the fuck is going on?" I whispered, my voice trembling slightly.
But I kept moving, driven by a need I couldn't explain. The corridors seemed to stretch endlessly, a labyrinth of shadows and secrets.
We needed to find out who the fuck was doing this. To put an end to all of it, because as much as my heart sang when I drove my knife through someone, this was too much. Too far. It seemed no one else gave a fuck, so it all rested on us. We needed answers.
I paused, leaning against a wall, trying to catch my breath. All of it was so much to carry, the missing memories, the tortured woman, the inexplicable pull.
But then I thought of Cam. Of his strength, his unwavering loyalty, and I straightened up, gripping my knife tighter. He'd be down here kicking down doors and figuring it out. I needed to put my big girl panties on and just fucking figure my shit out.
Around the next corner, my heart stopped. A room. The memory slammed into me, causing me to take a step back. No, no, no. I don't want to know. I don't want to remember. Please, make it stop. God, please. Make it stop.
But I couldn't. My feet led me further inside, forcing me to look. Forcing me to see what had been walled out for so long. Giving me answers I didn't need. Didn't want. Not anymore.
I blinked back tears, taking in every detail. The smell of antiseptic and someone's cologne thrust me further into the flashback. A table in the middle of the room held toys, ones I remembered playing with as a little girl. And there she was...
My breath caught in my throat as I saw her: a four-year-old version of myself, sitting at that same table, surrounded by doctors with clipboards and cameras.
They watched me intently as I recited a creed from heart while drawing a picture of death.
It felt surreal, like stepping into a nightmare within a nightmare.
I am born from the unseen, A vessel of purpose, a shadow among the light. I belong to the Order, the chosen few, And my will is not my own, but the will of Chimera.
I am a thread in the web, Invisible to the eye, indispensable to the whole. I stand in service, I act in silence, For I am the Hand that shapes the future.
I speak not of doubt, nor of weakness, For the path of the lost is the path of oblivion. To question is to fall; to falter is to fail. I do not stray; I do not hesitate.
My heart beats for the cause, My blood is the blood of Chimera. Every breath I take is for the Order, Every thought I have belongs to them.
Those who wander will return, For no other path is true. Chimera is the light, And those who stray from its glow will be swallowed by darkness. I shall lead them back, for I am the way.
My soul is bound to Chimera, Its mission is my mission, Its silence is my voice, Its truth is my truth.
I am not lost, for I belong, And those who stray, I shall find. The Order is eternal, And I shall never stray again.
I stumbled over something as I tried to escape, the words pinging around in my brain, causing a loud ringing to break out inside my head.
Looking down, it was the head of a stuffed rabbit.
One the little girl had on the table right now.
I could see, as if I was an outsider, hear, as if I was an observer.
But the truth was slamming into my chest, forcing me to relive this moment as if it was a movie.
"Lakey?" The girl's voice startled me. "Why are you here? Aren't you supposed to be doing something else?" She tilted her head curiously, those big blue eyes wide with wonder and fear. "Father Christopher will be so angry with you. Oh, Lakey, they had such big plans for you."