Page 109 of Babalon

Once I have my fill, I drop the cigarette butt to the blood-stained tile, stomping out the cherry—can’t have the prison catching fire, now can we. I have a date with a certain guard after all, and I’m sure she will be expecting me sooner rather than later.

It doesn’t take me long to get to the end of a block, away from the bulk of the massacre, and the sight that greets me has me nearly jumping with excitement and clapping my hands. There she sits, chained, cuffed, and bound to the cell bars just like I ordered. My childhood may have been barren of love and appreciation but this felt like all twenty-seven Christmases and birthdays wrapped up in one delicious present.

Thank you, my Lord, for this glorious gift.

While I do not prefer to work with anyone, setting this whole thing up with the AB has taken care of three birds with one swift and accurate stone. Kace, subdued. Inmates and officers, dead. My sweet little Nadia offered up for me like a high-priced meal and my mouth salivates.

She’s so beautiful, broken, and battered. Blood still dripping down the side of her head from whatever they did to her, and that alone makes my breathing pickup.

Nadia and blood? You shouldn’t have.

Her uniform is ripped away from her body. Buttons of her shirt missing, the dark pants she wears are ripped along the inseam and pulled away from her legs leaving her with just her duty belt wrapped around her waist. The undergarments she has on underneath are tattered and exposing her most intimate patches of flesh. Bruises already blooming across her pale skin where the inmates’ hands gripped her violently, and where the rough fabric of her uniform left irritated red abrasions. If she only knew how stunning she looked in this very moment.

Crouching before her, I reach out and tilt her head back, my fingers hooked under her jaw. When her head meets the metal bars, she groans. Her red and purpling eyelids are hiding the silver eyes that I long to see. Pain looks lovely on her, then her little sound? She’s still awake enough to feel things even if she isn’t strong enough to keep those haunting eyes open.

She has to finish being broken so we can leave this place together, we have destinies to fulfill and she will never be able to do so if she remains so strong willed. I need her destroyed. I need nothing left of the girl she was, the woman she is. Nadia needs to be a shell, so she can ascend into the deity she was born to be.

A sacred whore, the Scarlet woman, the mother of abominations.

Leaning in, I brush my nose along her jawline, followed by the undeniable urge to lick her skin and taste her blood, but I hold myself back. That would enrage my Lord, and I have come so far, and am so close to completing my task. Still though, my pupils dilate while I look her over; an ache settling inside of me.

“Are you ready to move her, Lucien? We have to do it before the CERT team gets here.” Clark asks as he comes up behind me.

For a guard, he sure is confident walking around here in his uniform. He must have allowed word to spread through the population to keep him safe when the riots began. He ought to be careful though, I’m not like the rest. It will take nothing to break the fragile agreement we have. Now that I have what is owed to me, he’s better off playing with the rest of the prisoners.

“Yes, let’s get her moved. I want her down in solitary. Whatever takes CERT longer to get to her. They’re going to come for all officers and staff before giving the green light for the rest of us. The sooner we are gone and out of the way, the better.”

Clark raises a hand and waves over One and Two, my silent brood; always ready and willing to do the grunt work for everyone else. Removing all her restraints, they both hook an arm under her pits. Her legs dragging behind them while her head remains tilted forward in her semi-conscious state. They proceed to the end of the block—an old guard shack sitting there. Dust coats every surface, computers stripped for their electrical components, chairs devoid of padding or worn down until the legs could no longer bear weight.

A drop hatch sits in the middle of the small room, once hidden under a layer of tile, now propped up and waiting for us to enter. It is dark, ominous, and will lead us to Darkwater’s very own hell.

One right after another, they descend the ladder that has seen better days to the platform below. A set of stairs, much like the ones connecting to solitary, waiting for use. Two fed Nadia’s limp body down into the black hole, she may feel like she will never see the light of day again, but I promise she will—as mine.

When everyone is in, I follow, pulling the hatch with me and shrouding us all in darkness.

This corridor of the pit is the longest, D Block being the longest hallway as well. The pit sprawls out in directions that you would not have anticipated. With side hallways that connect with others, some which come to dead ends, others that veer off in one direction or another then circle right back around to where they began. It is a maze down here, confusing the persons who wander it but I managed to map it out a little while back.

I needed a way to move through the prison without being caught, and when I found the first evidence of the hatch, I spent time quietly dislodging the tile until I was able to access it when I wanted to. Imagine my excitement when I learned that the pit connects to every block, and even to the warden’s office. What a way to escape.

Trailing through the underbelly of Darkwater, the small group and I come up to the shorter wing that houses solitary just above. The simple whines and chatter of the mentally disturbed inmates sitting right over us adding to the unnerving atmosphere.

“Alright boys, get her up there and get her restrained,” Clark orders.

“Sir,” they respond in unison.

Good little peons.

“Lucien, we made a deal. Don’t forget that.”

“I don’t remember agreeing but I’m no fool. I know what’s going to unfold. Whatever breaks her and gets the both of us out of here.”

“I can’t promise you’ll make it out of here, you need to know that.”

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take. Now go, we are out of time.”

Following him, I climb the stairs and sit at the top. Drawing out another cigarette, smirking around the filter. Everything comes around in the end, one way or another, and while they restrain little Nadia, the time unravels.

You should be proud, my Son.

---