Page 8 of Disturbed Lucidity

“Not if you do as you promised,” Father replied angrily before walking away. Turning to follow, I was stopped when the man with the scar grabbed my arm.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going, cunt?”

Confused, I said nothing when I looked at the man, then at Father’s back. He never turned around.

“Jesus fuck, Toxic. The bitch doesn’t even speak.”

“As long as her mouth opens, it works. Get her inside. We only have a few hours with her before we need to get rid of her.”

No sooner had I screamed than the man with the scar threw me back into the darkness where I saw men drinking, laughing, and watching while others stuck their dicks into women and men.

It was an orgy.

I knew what that meant. I learned the hard way when I accidentally walked into a room once as Father laughed, leaving me to learn from my mistake.

Before I could run and hide, someone caught me and ripped the cloth covering me, another bent me over the nearest table, spreading my legs. Screaming loudly, men laughed and cheered as I became the entertainment. One after another, they took their turn, not caring how much they hurt me, and when I couldn’t handle it anymore, I closed my eyes and let my darkness take over.

A loud roar had me quickly opening my eyes to see my nightmare meet a gruesome and sudden demise. In a matter of seconds, my nightmare transformed from them holding me down to the Devil himself mercilessly tearing them apart.

I’d never seen anyone like him.

He didn’t care who he killed. He was there to reap souls, and that’s exactly what he did. I didn’t know where he came from, but one minute my pain was so unbearable that I could practically taste the desperation and I begged God to end it all. The next, it was as if time stood still, because in that second, I bore witness to the unimaginable. The Devil, with calculated precision, unleashed a wave of carnage, causing everything around me to dissipate, leaving only chaos and death in his wake.

He gave no quarter.

As if possessed by some kind of supernatural force, he moved about the room with such intensity that it was evident a blood rage had completely taken hold of him. He single-handedly destroyed every man who came at him. Men bigger, stronger than him, never had a chance as the killing rage ravaged his soul.

There would be no stopping the slaughter, for Death had arrived.

And God forgive me, I prayed he killed them all.

Watching from the corner, I dared not move.

Witnessing the demise of the last man, I defied my urge to run, transfixed by the sight of my sinister savior standing in the midst of the room, his breaths coming in deep and heavy. It was as if he was savoring the chaos and destruction he had unleashed. Blood dripped from his hands. Hands that just eviscerated the dead souls laying unmoving on the floor.

If I could cry, I would have, but when he slowly turned his head and smiled at me, I realized I wasn’t afraid.

I would never be afraid of him because the Devil himself had come to save me.

Gasping, I sat up, and the afternoon sun blinded me.

Rubbing my face, I looked around the room to find it just like I left it. Throwing back the covers, I got out of bed and walked into my small kitchen. Heading straight for the coffeepot I’d set up before I went to sleep. Grabbing the cup I placed on the counter, I then poured the hot brew into my cup, watching the blackness swirl, smelling the delicious aroma that wafted around me.

Holding the cup close, I took a sip and sighed while the hot elixir did its magic. Taking a seat at my small table near the window facing the street, I leaned forward and curled my hands around the hot cup as the light brought my past forward.

I didn’t have an idyllic childhood. Hell, I didn’t have a childhood, period. What I had created is the person I was today.

Who that was, I had no clue.

All I knew was that I was never going back.

When the Devil freed me, I didn’t know where to go or what to do. What I did know was that I was free of Father. I learned quickly who to trust and who to avoid. For the longest time, I lived on the streets, learning everything I could about the world outside. There was so much I missed growing up, I knew I’d never learn it all. Knowing I couldn’t stay in one place for long, I traveled around a lot, until I met Mikie, who found me rummaging in a trash can behind the Saint Agatha’s Catholic Church where his mom worked, for something to eat. He took one look at me and that was all she wrote. Mikie took me home to his mother, Gladys, and from that day forward, they helped me in every way they could. Gladys taught me about the world I knew nothing about. She taught me to read and write, and eventually, to drive. Gladys never asked me about my past, and I was thankful for that. It was also during my time with Gladys that a man named Father Dominic taught me about good and evil.

Father Dominic was the priest at Saint Agatha’s Catholic Church in New York City, where Gladys worked. He confused me at first, unsure if I could trust him or not, but Gladys explained that Father Dominic took a vow of chastity. At the time, I didn’t know what that meant, and when she explained it confused me even more.

Eventually, I came to understand, somewhat.

Looking up at the wall, I moaned.

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