Page 43 of Bloody Valentine

She knew that there was no soul to save. Our father sold it to the devil on my very first breath. Yet still, she tried. Her hopewas a lot like Vivian’s—that glimmer of light in the vast black sea around them.

I scrubbed my face, angered at the memories plaguing my mind. “After her death, I ran.”

“So they caught you,” she said, putting two and two together. I laughed without humor, pulling my shirt over my head and baring my back for her eyes. She gasped out loud, and I knew she was frightened and disgusted by the scars adorning my back and shoulders.

“Beneath the mausoleum,” I continued. “The Divine Order meters the justice of the council.”

She was silent, soft sobs the only thing I could hear.

“I was there nearly a year. Everyone believed I was traveling, and St. Valentine University had me on leave. I was whipped daily for my betrayal. Cracks of that leather became my only constant in the dark tombs. I couldn’t even hear my own voice after a while. The sacrifice was complete. I belonged to the Divine. My mind was plagued with the commands of my ancestors.Ourancestors.”

Vivian gasped again, and I turned to look at her.

“St Valentine was…in your thoughts?”

As if on cue, the bastard surfaced in my mind. His regal tone was a sinister, cold hiss.

You play with your prey, Maddox. Aim true with your responsibility. Never forget Your soul belongs to me. I am Divinity.

I shook my head, squeezing my eyes shut to block out his words. This, too, was secret. I never told anyone that the moment the knife entered the heart of my sister, the angry soul of our founder enteredmine.

Vivian’s expression was unreadable, and she refused to meet my gaze.

“Take me there,” she said at last, and I looked at her in confusion. “My last wish is to see the final place where the real Maddox existed.”

Chapter fourteen

Carrying my Little Virgin back to the mausoleum, I ignored Father Demarco's scornful look as I walked through the doors. I wanted to focus solely on granting this odd request. How could I deny her this if it was to be her last?

The mausoleum was still open, my blood fresh enough to maintain the seal of entry. Vivian curled into my arms, and I inhaled her sweet scent, walking forward and following the scripture written on the walls.

The torture chamber was below, and the hair on my neck stood at attention from simply being on these stone steps again. I hadfallen in line after the year I spent here, and the other members of the Divine followed my example to avoid the same fate. If the order could deem a punishment so severe for their king, what would they do to those beneath him?

We arrived at the dank, cold cavern. The large board of wood was still erect despite the years it had been left abandoned. The dimly lit torches along the walls illuminated the contraption in the center of the space.

It was closed, seemingly sealed shut by my blood, creating a sort of glue. My screams flashed in my mind. My voice had been raw at times, and at others, my ears rang until I couldn’t hear myself.

My father’s punishments were the worst. His hand never missed, and the crack of the leather strap felt like it had seared its pain into my bones. I steadied my breathing, trying to ignore the faint echo of those words long ago.

“You cannot escape your bloodline, you fool! You are their king, and if we must nail your feet into the ground where you stand, you will lead the Divine to carry our legacy and order! You have challenged me long enough. I am done being lenient, Maddox.”

“Fuck you.” I hissed as another lash burned my flesh, striking in the same place as the last one.

My blood splashed on my face from the puddle below me and continued to drip down my severed back. The Order would clean my wounds with alcohol and seal them with salt, only for the torture to continue the next day. The scarification wouldbe permanent, marking me for all to see as the traitor they claimed me to be.

My father laughed from behind my broken body. “Oh, son, you poor ignorant man. When will you learn? You cannot escape who you are. The only way you release your binds from being a Valentine is in death.”

His words sunk into my core.

Death.

It was always death, and my only choice was to kill those given to me or die in their stead.

“It is the balance needed in the universe,” he continued to yammer on. “When I was the leader, I maintained that order and knew that my hand was not my own. It is the will of the great St. Valentine. Through us, he selects the chosen, and we are blessed to...”

His words didn’t stop, but the pain made me feel dizzy. My vision blurred, and my father’s boasts became hazy in my ears. As soon as I was close to passing out, he would attack again. His timing kept me on a razor’s edge. He knew when it had been long enough for the adrenaline to flow through my body again, keeping me awake.

He was the most skilled in true torture. The flagellations were scheduled to keep me from achieving more than thirty minutes of rest. However, on the days my father took over, he lessened those precious minutes to an interval of ten.

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