Page 54 of Body and Soul

Valentine's steely gaze never wavered, those flinty eyes boring into me like a laser beam. “I understand this is difficult, Mr. Baker. But I need you to answer my questions. Lives could be at stake.”

A bitter laugh rose in my throat. Lives at stake? What about my life after escaping that hell? But I bit back the retort, my jaw aching.

“What do you want to know?” I asked quietly.

“Let's start with how you came to be involved with the Children of the Light,” Valentine said, leaning back against the wall and crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Walk me through it.”

I exhaled shakily, dragging a hand over my face. I closed my eyes, memories I'd tried so hard to bury clawing their way to the surface. The stench of the crowded homeless shelter. The gnawing ache of hunger. And the shame of being a failure, a disappointment, a sinner.

“I didn't have a choice,” I said. “After my parents kicked me out for being gay, I had nowhere else to go. I was seventeen, broke, living on the streets. Shelters when I could get in, sleeping in alleyways and abandoned buildings when I couldn't.”

I could still feel the grime in my pores, a visible taint. The metallic taste of fear, a constant companion as I fought to survive.

“I was desperate. Hungry. So when the Children of the Light showed up at the shelter one day, spouting all this rhetoric about salvation and purpose, a chance to be a part of something bigger... I listened. I thought they were another church group, but they promised they could help me. Turn my life around. They promised me something more and, like an idiot, I believed them.”

My vision swam as the memories crashed over me in violent waves, dragging me under. The musty prayer bus, thick with incense. Gnarled hands pinning me to the floor as I choked out pleas for forgiveness, for mercy.

Please God, make me clean. Take away these unnatural desires. I don't want to be an abomination anymore. I'll do anything, I swear. Just fix me, please fix me...

Valentine's voice cut through the memory, anchoring me back to the present. “What happened after they recruited you?”

I shook my head and tried to calm my breathing. “Nothing much at first. It was pretty normal for a week or two. The cult has this…level program. You start at a five and work your way towards zero. The lower the number, the closer you are to the inner circle. I never made it past a four.”

“And what did being a level four entail?”

I licked my lips, my mouth desert-dry. The memories threatened to drown me, phantom hands clawing at my body, my mind. I dug my fingers into my thighs, grounding myself with the dull ache.

“A lot of prayer. Memorizing scripture. And the revival sessions...” I swallowed hard.

Valentine leaned forward, his pen pressed to the tiny little notebook in his palm. “Did they ever sexually abuse you?”

I stared at Valentine, my throat constricting, the words lodged in my chest like jagged shards of glass. “I...” My voice cracked, and I swallowed hard, my heartbeat a deafening drum in my ears. “They... the elders, they...”

I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting against the onslaught of images seared into my brain. Hands pinning me down. The cloying stench of incense and sweat. The flicker of firelight dancing across leering faces. Chapped lips spilling scripture even as they violated my body, my soul.

“They said it would cleanse me of my sin. Purge the unnatural desires from my flesh,” I whispered, my voice barely audible over the roaring in my ears. “That through their touch, I could be redeemed.”

Valentine's pen stilled on the page, his sharp gaze fixing on my face with laser focus. “They sexually assaulted you,” he said, more statement than question.

I shook my head, pressing the heels of my palms against my eyes until starbursts exploded across the backs of my eyelids. Anything to block out the images, the phantom sensations. “Idon't... I can't...” The words caught in my throat, choked and mangled.

Valentine's voice seemed to come from far away, muffled like I was hearing it from underwater. “I need you to tell me when this happened, Elias. How old were you? Were you a minor?”

I shook my head, a sharp, jerky motion. “I don't... it's all a blur. The days all bled together. I was seventeen when I joined, but I don't... I can't...”

My chest constricted, lungs spasming as I fought for air. It felt like a steel band was wrapped around my ribs, squeezing tighter and tighter with each shallow, gasping breath. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision and I swayed on my feet, bile rising in the back of my throat.

Valentine's voice sounded far away, muffled, like I was underwater. “Eli? Eli, I need you to focus. This is important. Do you remember any names? Locations?”

I shook my head again, a tremor running through my body. Sweat beaded on my brow, cold and clammy. “I can't... I don't remember much. It's all fragments, flashes. Like a nightmare I can't fully piece together.”

“Would you be willing to come in and give an official statement?” he asked. “Something we can use to get these bastards and put them away for good before they hurt anyone else.”

I stared at Valentine, his words bouncing around my skull like ricocheting bullets. Give an official statement? Dredge up every sordid, horrific detail of what those monsters did to me and put it on record? The thought made my stomach heave, the coppery taste of fear flooding my mouth.

I opened my mouth to refuse, to tell him to go to hell, but what came out instead was a hoarse, broken whisper. “I... I don't know if I can do that. It's too much, too... raw. I've spent so long trying to bury it all, to move on...”

Valentine's expression softened a fraction, something almost like sympathy flickering in those flinty eyes. “I understand this is incredibly difficult, Eli. And I wouldn't ask if it wasn't crucial. Your testimony could be the key to putting these bastards away for good. To stop them from destroying more lives. But if you’re not ready…” He reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a crisp white business card, holding it out to me. “This has my direct line at the Bureau. Call me anytime, day or night, if you change your mind or remember anything else that could help the investigation.”

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