Page 48 of Sin of the Saints

“What are you planning to do to me?” I manage to ask.

“It’ll be alright,” he whispers, caressing my head. He looks away from me and nods to the angel standing beside him. The angel hands him an old, heavy metal object and nods towards my lower body.

“What is that thing?”

“For you to be one of us, we must ensure the purification was successful. Consider it your entrance exam,” he answers, and I feel a chill knowing Lilith is still inside me. “It’ll hurt, but don’t worry, it’s the price you must pay for inviting demons into you. When it’s over, you’ll be one of us.”

“No!” I wail as loud as I can, and Ellis looks at me again, caressing my head.

“Shh… everything will be alright,” he whispers to me.

“Hold her!” I hear the Pope command his army. Strong hands hold me down. They hurt, pulling me hard, and I’m sure they’ll tear me apart any moment.

The cold metal is positioned between my legs, and I hold my breath, not daring to make a sound.

“You’re alright, Belle, everything will be alright,” Ellis keeps saying. I hear the sound of the metal slicing the silence.

Nothing’s alright.

I have no place in this world, this world where all of us are damned.

There’s no point in prayer because no one hears me.

Even Bar is lost to me. He’ll never be more than an illusion, a reflection of an innocent heart’s wish that was never meant to come true. All is lost.

I’m sick of the lies.

Is this my end? Is this the thing I have to accept?

You tell me, do you want this to be my end?

Because it’s too late to rewrite it.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Bellcolor

Is this reality or a delusion?

Ibreathe deep, taking in the fresh air coming off the majestic mountains before me, letting the coolness envelop me at the start of an unusually-warm autumn day. Still refusing to part ways with the summer, I’m wearing denim shorts and a white tank top. My nipples are hard and stand out against the thin sports bra. My skin is covered in goosebumps and red spots, highlighting the many scars on my body sentenced to remain cold and numb forever. If only I could be like them.

I run my fingers over them, and in my mind each evokes a shifting memory; they almost always involve alcohol, uncontrollably crying, a loose razor blade on the bathroom floor, one sharp motion, darkness and silence. That tranquil silence is the scariest part.

I can’t maintain my grip on sanity when the voices in my head awaken, and I die all over again each time they fall silent.I chuckle at the thought of the details we choose to emblazon in our consciousness. I never remember what led me to the abyss, but the fall itself is something I can strongly recall.

As the skies are painted red and the victory of light over darkness is revealed before me, I tighten my grip around my thighs, which I scarred, to burn that reminder onto myself.

Because I have to.

“Belle.” A delicate male voice behind me pulls me from my thoughts. I turn and notice this place’s guardian angel, with his golden hair and white uniform.

“Dr. Abano is waiting for your morning session. He sent me to find you.” He smiles and looks to the horizon, at the sunrise that will soon determine the blood war between night and day. “You know why Dr. Abano insists you be present for your appointment at sunrise.”

“I know,” I answer bitterly. He won’t let me watch it alone. He claims it undermines everything we’ve worked on the previous day.We must analyze my thoughts and feelings, he always insists.

“I hate to think that downtrodden look of yours is because of me.” He puts his hands into the pockets of his white pants.

I force myself to smile. “It’s fine, Ellis. I’m fine.”

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