Page 45 of Whispers of Fire

“Please, no! I don't want to, please, I beg of you!” She kept on crying to Paul, punching his chest with her free hand. I couldn’t breathe. This wasn't right, she should, she should be happy, why isn’t she happy? Marrying an Elder member of our community is an honor, why is she fighting it?

The Shepherd looked at Paul with a raised brow, as if he was expecting him to correct her. My blood turned to ice when I saw Paul fist Savannah’s hair and literally drag her to the pool, until he knelt, putting his arm under her back and her knees and pushing her whole body in it, making the water splash all round it.

The room went silent, waiting for the ritual to begin. I looked around, expecting someone to do something but no one looked appalled by this show.

No one seemed to care.

Savannah emerged from the water, trying to catch her breath with loud inhales.

“Good, now, Paul, you’ll submit her to you, and by this ritual, our community will recognise her as your wife and mother of your children. If you fail us, if she doesn't become your wife, you too will be punished,” said the Shepherd, adding more pressure to the situation like a thick layer of gasoline on an already raging wildfire.

We all know Paul's punishment if he doesn't succeed in the ritual. I've known about it since I was a child. When a man doesn't succeed in this task, he'll lose a hand cut by a holy sword our Shepherd had been given by the Divine itself. I saw one or two men without a hand in my life, not more. Because once this happens, it is known in the community that you are too weak to submit your women, and therefore are not as worthy of your place. Most of them become social outcasts in our community, often losing their ranks to lower ones. So I knew Paul had a lot of pressure on his shoulders to have a favorable outcome, and by the look of determination in his eyes, he didn’t seem receptive to Savannah misery.

Grabbing her hair by his fist in a hard grip, he raised her head so their eyes locked for a few seconds, before crushing her head under the water, his arm struggling to keep her down while she fought with everything she had.

It was my first time watching someone fight back against the ritual. The last girls I saw were extremely calm, a dead look in their eyes as they went through it, knowing it couldn't be avoided.

Savannah kept fighting under the water, her arms trying to remove Paul's fist from her hair. She's panicking, large bubbles coming out of her mouth, making me scared for her to not have enough in her lungs to go through with it. Some girls in my class say that staying calm is the best way to survive the three minutes under water and avoid spending energy that would make this even harder.

She must stop moving or else… or else she'll….

Water kept splashing outside the pool, but her movements were slowing down as if she was getting calmer all the sudden. The large clock on the wall indicated that it'd been more than two minutes. Maybe she could make it. Paul's hold on her loosened as he stared at the water underneath him like he's searching for something, his face going back and forth from the water to our Shepherd, his eyes widening more and more.

Could she…?

No.

It couldn’t be.

I couldn’t take it anymore and tried to stand to go help her. Somebody needed to. But I was stopped as I tried to rise on my feet by the heavy and firm hand of my father on my arm, silently ordering me to stay put. I wished I could yell, alert people, or do anything to help her. But I’m just a lamb and our Shepherd knows what’s best for us, so I sit back on the bench.

But even the reassuring presence of our Shepherd doesn’t ease the fire rising in me.

Are we sure about this? Is she… alive?

Tears started to fill my eyes as I witnessed Savannah's body floating like a dead fish, the blood on her hand bleeding like red ink, disappearing into the water.

It was too late.

We waited too long.

It was supposed to be a happy day.

Vox

“Got a new one for me?” Carter asks me as he makes his way out of the basement and into the main hall of the warehouse, washing his bloody hands and forearms with a damp cloth after his last session with another snitch from Jameson.

Damn it, those guys really can’t take a hint.

They keep sniffin’ around our warehouse looking for ways to take over us. I laugh at the idea, a bunch of fuckin’ amateurs sending their prospects onto the battlefield like fresh meat ready to be slaughtered.

It’s been a week since Rose came to my home. The house feels too empty since she was here. I just wanted to ride on my bike and get to the club as fast as possible. I activated my surveillance app and I saw her lying on her bed, the phone in her hand and her fuckin’ adorable pout on her face.

Can’t bear the idea that she’ll want to stay away from me. Even knowing what I do, I don’t think I'll manage to stay away. At least I can watch her and know where she is.

It kills me when I’m not in control. And with her, I’m not.

I have no idea what she’s going to do next. Her world and mine couldn’t be further apart.

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