Page 43 of Illuminated

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The priest -- and I had no doubt that was what he was -- walked me to his car, and once he had me in the passenger seat, he zip-tied my hands. I tried to kick him but missed. He punched me in the stomach. “Keep quiet, Mister Fields,” he told me. Stars were dancing in front of my eyes.

The radio was playing rock. He was sticking to the speed limit. The car smelled worse than him. I was scared I was going to die.

He drove to a motel at the other end of town, not a long drive, but long enough for me to freak out. The motel wasn’t the fancy tourist location, so there were few people, few cars in the lot.

“Some colleagues of mine stayed here, but they checked out very early this morning. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

“I don’t know you. I don’t know what you want from me,” I said, my voice trembling.

“No, you don’t know me, that much is true. But unless I’m mistaken I saw your bloody footsteps right where a demon slayed three of my brothers. Do you know nothing about that either?”

He didn’t sound angry so much as… fuck. He sounded like he was enjoying this, me squirming, him talking. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“What, cat got your tongue, Mister Fields? Never mind, then.”

“You can let me go, and I won’t tell anyone. People will come looking for me.”

“Not before we’ve had a chance to chat,” he said and got out of the car.

I hiccupped shallow breaths until he was at my door, pulled it open. He grabbed my bag, then me. I knew I had to try screaming as soon as I got out, but before I could, he hit me in the stomach again, and I almost blacked out this time.

The next thing I knew, he was pulling me along through a door, into a room. Fuck. I didn’t want to be alone in a room with this guy. I wanted Auris to come for me, but he might not come looking for me for hours. A lot could happen in hours. I started crying.

The priest left me on the filthy, smelly floor and walked to the small bathroom. He turned on the water, then came back and dragged me into the bathroom by the zip ties that were biting into my skin.

“No,” I said, but my voice was paper thin, the breath still not back in my lungs after he’d punched me.

“Let’s see if you are under that thing’s influence. The weak ones are easily seduced, and you are weak, Mister Fields, I can tell.”

He pulled me up and pushed me into the bathtub that was filling with water. I struggled to get out, and all it got me was another punch to the gut.

All I could think was that I couldn’t lose consciousness, not while in a rapidly filling bathtub, but it was hard. I probably blacked out for a few seconds, but if I did, I don’t or can’t remember.

Then, the water was high enough for him to push my head under, which he did.

He was also reciting a prayer over me. The words made no sense to me -- Latin?

He let me up. I coughed up water, sucking in sweet air. I tried to fight, but my body wouldn’t cooperate, felt floppy and uncoordinated, and he was so damn strong.

He pushed me back under, held me there where panic and fear lived.

After too long, he let me up for air. He did that again. And again. And again.

I was coughing, my lungs hurt. I was disoriented. My eyes were burning, and his fingers were digging into my skin. There was nothing left, no energy left in me to fight this man, and at some point, the realization hit. I would die in a shabby motel bathroom.

Would Auris find me? Would he cry over me or rage? Could vampires even cry?

The drowning went on. My throat hurt. My lungs hurt. I struggled, oh, I struggled as much as I could, but his arms kept pushing, and they were like lead on my chest. I’m not sure whether I gave up at some point or whether I was simply too drained to move anymore.

“Tell me about the demon,” he said finally, holding me up instead of pushing me back under this time around.

I tried to make the best of being able to breathe before I said, “You’re… the fucking… demon here.”

He didn’t like that at all, and it showed on his face, that ugly, wicked face. When he pushed me under this time around, he grabbed me by the neck. I thought of people drowning kittens. I think I came close to blacking out again. At this point, darkness would have been bliss.

“Where are Father Morgan and Father Richards?” he demanded the next time he held my head above the water.

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