Page 115 of Doesn't Count

I throw both hands up in surrender, quickly closing the door. Satisfied with my lie, he grunts and ignites the engine, speeding off and away from my very short-lived safe haven.

“You’re not even going to ask me how we found you? What we did with that girl?” He goads, his dead eyes trying to catch mine in the rearview mirror.

“I’m guessing I’m going to find out soon enough.” I mumble, desperate for him to shut the fuck up.

Within an hour the Saturn is creeping up to an archaic structure, a soft red glow emanating from the front windows. It sits in a field of dead grass with a thicket of trees as the backdrop.

“Welcome home, Ollie.Fatherwill be thrilled to see you.” Bordeaux huffs as he climbs out of the vehicle.

I meet him by the dented hood before following him towards the prison for lost souls. We climb the steps in silence, the heavy double doors creaking open on old hinges. Memories flash before me as his meaty fingers grip my bicep, only now there’s more muscle making it harder to grasp as he yanks me forward. A sudden blindness takes hold of my sight as if a burlap sack is placed over my head.

Shaking the cloudiness from my eyes, I stumble forward. It dawns on me that I can see. Not just now, but the entire time. I saw every single street sign and mile marker on our way here, which can only mean one thing -

I’m not leaving, at least not alive.

Our footsteps echo loudly in the foyer, my eyes catching on the empty fountain meant for baptisms sitting in the center and I wonder to myself if it was ever used to welcome innocent souls into the house of God. If it has, I can confidently say it hasn’t served that purpose in over a decade.

Dirt shuffles beneath each step, grinding down under my feet into the grout of the tile. The same dirt that’s sat here for years, no one bothering to sweep it away. Hardly anyone ever came through the front of the church, this room holding no purpose to thefamily. No, they all hid beyond the sacred room, deep inside this castle of horrors.

Bordeaux hauls open a door to the chapel, gesturing for me to enter first. I almost expect to burst into flames as I takethat first step through, but to my dismay I remain completely intact. Numb, but still very much alive.

Slowly, I inch forward through the center isle of pews towards the altar where a familiar face awaits. My lungs fill with concrete and collapse into my stomach as I halt before the man who calls himselfFather.

With a wicked smile, he beginsreading an excerpt from the Satanic Bible.

“When a Satanist commits a wrong, he realizes that it is natural to make a mistake – and if he is truly sorry about what he has done, he will learn from it and take care not to do the same thing again.”

My gaze catches on the figure behind him, Jesus’ body hanging from a cross, his head replaced with a goat’s. Those beady, little eyes stare right back at me, taunting me yet again. There’s a soft glow produced by a plethora of lit candles lining the walls of the nave and the chancel. It casts a shadow over Father, darkening his ghostly skin and the grey hair tied behind his head and smattering his chin.

I stay standing, feigning a blank expression, waiting for him to reveal the plans he has for me.

“You’ve finally come home, my son.” His voice slithers over every inch of my skin, leaving behind a slime I will never be able to get rid of. “I have a feeling this time you’re going to stay.”

“Where’s Ash?” I finally bite out, my voice stronger than I feel.

“I’m so glad you asked. She’s here, getting to know thefamily. I figured you might need a little motivation to find your way back.” He snickers, the motion of his lips animating his whiskers.

“When do I get to see her?” I ask wearily.

“After you atone for your betrayal and rejoin ourfamily,but it’s late now. We’re all very tired and it seems we have a big day ahead of us. Bordeaux-”Fathersmirks, snapping his fingers to call his guard dog, “- show Oliver to his old room.”

Fuck.

My chest convulses, my heart nearly giving out. As Bordeaux aims to snatch my arm again, my fist instinctively snaps back and rams right into a cushion of fat padding his cheek. His head barely budges on impact, but the shock of it all sends him into a crazed fury. My added years and muscles still don’t stand a chance against the brute. He’s as hefty as a full-grown bull and equal in rage.

With all his might, he charges forward, barreling into me. My back smacks the ground first, the impact punching the air from my lungs, followed by my head. My brain bounces violently inside my skull, blinding my vision.

Before I can find my sight and a decent breath, Bordeaux’s fist painfully collides with the side of my face. I lay there straddled by a man twice my size, staring at the altar sideways. A searing white light strikes behind my eyes, clearing all thoughts and feelings, dousing me in an empty void.

I don’t feel the claws fisting my hoodie until I’m lifted off the ground, I don’t notice my feet as they trip over each other, I don’t hear the snarls and threats spit right in my ear.

Blank.

I’m empty and blank.

Right where I want to be.

The sound of metal clanking together drags me from this state of catalepsy, grounding me back to reality. It’s a brutal fall from a beautiful void of nothing, only to drown in pain and despair.

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