“So Eden, have you found your accommodations pleasing?” Lucifer questions, picking up one of the many forks that lay before him. Right on cue, the rest of the table picks up their forks as well.
Fuck that.
“They’re fine,” I answer stiffly.
He slowly chews and swallows, those iridescent eyes never straying from mine. “You are welcome to add your own personal touches. Just tell Saskia what you need, and it’s yours.”
He pauses, as if he’s awaiting some grand show of gratitude. I merely redirect my attention to my untouched plate.
And that’s how it remains for nearly six courses: him talking and me ignoring him. The food looks and smells delicious, but other than a few bites and two glasses of wine, I have very little interest in indulging his quest to be a perfect host. I just want to get the hell out of this room, shed my obscenely ostentatious get up, and lock myself away. I know I had a role to play, but I can’t do it. Not while the wounds of my reality are still fresh and oozing on my heart.
“If that’s all,” I begin quietly, as the staff clears the dessert plates, “I’ll be heading back to my room.”
“No. You won’t.”
I glance up and make myself focus on Lucifer’s stern expression, refusing to back down from the fire in his glare. Maybe my silence has gotten to him. Good. Let him see that I won’t be his pathetic little puppet.
“Eden, I’ve gone through great lengths to acquire you, and while your comfort is of utmost importance, understand who it is that sits before you. You will do well to remember that my kindness is a novelty. Treat it as such.”
I swallow down my trepidation, letting it slide down my tightened throat to roil in my half-empty belly.
“And if I don’t?”
A crooked slash that speaks of malevolence and madness creeps onto his face, and he leans forward in his seat, resting his elbows on the table. No more nauseating giggling from his whores. Not even the sound of excited breaths, hungry for carnage. “Pray to your precious Almighty that you never find out.”
He slowly leans back in his seat, his eyes still locked on mine. “Now, if you are quite done being a child, there’s something I’d like you to see.”
I contemplate my next words carefully.
I could end it all right here. I could spit in his face and tell him to go fuck himself. What else can he possibly do to me? Torture me? Kill me? There’s no guarantee he won’t do that anyway once he’s gotten what he’s after. So what could I possibly be waiting for?
A pang of anguish echoes in my chest. I can’t do this to myself. I can’t, for one second, believe that L would risk his life and the Se7en to come rescue me. He made his choice, and in the end, I wasn’t it. I never was it. It was always the mission, Adriel, and even Lilith. He had so many reasons to not choose me that I was stupid and blind to ever even think I could be worth the fight. I’m one girl—one gray, forgotten speck in his sky full of stars.
I look up at the beauty and splendor of evil, and I wonder if we are so different after all. He was cast out and abandoned by the one that had created him. Is he truly to blame for his corrupt soul? When all he wanted was to be heard, and accepted for his uniqueness? I can’t fault him for not being the perfect picture of morality, when I’m not either. And who’s to say that God hasn’t already turned His back on me? When I’ve been scraping and struggling to survive every damn day since my mother cut me from her womb in an attempt to abort me?
We stare each other down for half a minute more before I say, “Fine. Show me.”
Lucifer’s grin is equal parts dazzling and disarming. “My pleasure. I’ve been saving this surprise for some time. And now…you’ll see just an inkling of the depth of my devotion.”
I audibly gulp.
I don’t know what I’ve just agreed to.
“Surprise?”
“Yes,” Lucifer drawls, lounging into the plush velvet of his high-back chair. “Think of it as a Welcome Home gift from me to you.” He flicks a finger and servers rush to fill our drinks.
“I don’t need any gifts.”
“So you say. But trust me…this one is just too delicious. Can you guess what it is?”
I tighten my fists in my lap. I don’t have it in me to play any more games. I did what he wanted. I sold my soul—my body—to save a world that had forsaken me a long time ago.
I told myself I wouldn’t drink anymore, but if I have to sit here any longer, I’ll need alcoholic assistance. I reach over and take my freshly filled wine glass between my fingers, and drain its contents. A disapproving growl masked as a cough rumbles from the other side of the table. Luckily, Lucifer is too self absorbed to notice.
“No. So why don’t you just get on with it? Bring it on,” I challenge after licking the remnants of Cabernet from my lips. I cross my arms in front of my chest to smother my pounding heart, trembling with traitorous trepidation.
Lucifer claps his hands twice, signaling that it’s show time. When I hear the muffled screams, along with rousing cheers from the demon whores across the table, bile rises in my throat.
Don’t look, I tell myself.
Don’t react. Don’t even breathe.
I fail, and instantly wish I could pluck my eyes from their sockets.
A man and a woman, early twenties, are jerked into the middle of the floor by two serpent-skinned guards dressed in BDSM black leather and chains. Inhumanely large with bulging muscles the size of jagged boulders, yet their heads are peculiarly small. Dark, scaly skin gleams like oil on pavement and their eyes are a sickening shade of jaundice yellow. I swallow reflexively, praying that ground filet and red wine don’t suddenly spew from my lips.
The petrified captives stand only in dirty underwear, their hair matted with dirt and their faces wet with tears and sweat. The pungent smells of piss and vomit invade my nostrils.
“Eden, my love, you remember these two, don’t you? From your old neighborhood?”
I force my horror stricken eyes from the scene before me, and turn toward that viciously seductive voice to find a haunting slash of amusement.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because you deserve it. Because they deserve it.”
“Is this really necessary?” Niko questions, feigning boredom. If it weren’t for his white-knuckled grasp on the edge of the table, he’d appear overwhelmingly disinterested in the vile display.
“It is,” Lucifer answers, without bothering to look at him. “Besides, we deserve a little fun around here, don’t you think?”
He waves a hand, commanding that the two prisoners be brought closer into the room. The two gargantuan beasts shove them just feet away from the dinner table, forcing my attention. They’re barely standing, trembling violently on the blood-red stone floor. I don’t want to see it, but I do know them. They look completely unfamiliar to me, yet something about them…
“Zachary Finch,” Lucifer begins. “Star athlete, celebrated ladies man and Paul Robeson High School’s most notorious homophobe. Eden, dear, isn’t that where you matriculated?”
My eyes are two narrow slits of disgust. “What are you doing?”
“From what I’ve gathered,” Lucifer continues his diatribe, ignoring my question completely. “Our Zachary also manufactured a vicious rumor about you, claiming you were having a salacious affair with your sister, Mary. He told everyone who would listen about the incestuous lesbians who he allegedly caught fucking at a party one night. Of course, this was after he tried to force himself on you at said party, and you responded with a knee to his less-than-impressive manhood. Isn’t that true, Zachary? Tell us how you tried to rape Eden, then sully her reputation with lies.”
“Please,” the now lanky, boy snivels, his retching sobs growing more pathetic. How long has he been down here? He looks malnourished and sickly. “I don’t know what you want from me. Please, I’m sorry.”
“Yes,” Lucifer muses, his sensual mouth wrapping around the malice in his words. His sluts gro
an their growing excitement at the sound of his voice. “You are, Zachary. Very sorry, indeed. But not as sorry as you’re going to be.”
He turns his brutal beauty on the girl standing beside Zachary, a frail-looking blonde crying silently into her dingy hands.
“Look at me, love.” His voice is a gentle caress, yet authority is ever-present in his tone. The girl obeys, tears rimming her terror-stricken green eyes. “Ah, that’s better. Now, would you like to introduce yourself to the room or should I?”
She sobs harder in response, blubbering unintelligible pleas for mercy. Her desperation only seems to arouse the eager-eyed whores further, along with Lucifer’s thirst for sadism.
“Very well then, my dear. I’ll be delighted to do the honors. Danielle McCullough,” he begins, clasping his elegant fingers in front of his chest. “What can I truly say that sums up this precious creature before us?” Suddenly he jumps to his feet, startling us all into silence. Not even a hushed breath can be heard in the cavernous room. The soiled prisoners shake violently, and the strong smell of urine grows even more potent.
He strides over to the pair, prompting the snake-like guards to take a step back. They stand at least a head taller, yet his very proximity bullies them into submission.
“I know your kind,” he sneers harshly, his lips only an inch from the girl’s tear-streaked skin. “The kind that preys on the weak. The kind that feeds off their misery for their own personal enjoyment. You laughed and taunted Eden in high school. You got off on painting her as an outcast—a freak. And when you tired of her, you went after her sister. Isn’t that right, Danielle? Tell us how you and your mean girl minions would throw bloody tampons at her in the hallways. Or how you put dog shit in her locker. You were a few grades ahead of Eden, so getting Mary alone was easy. You were calculated and cruel when you knew she was at her most vulnerable. And you felt not an ounce of remorse for it either. No. You felt emboldened…entitled even. How dare she, a poverty-stricken orphan, breathe the same air as you.”
“Please!” Danielle cries, snot and tears falling onto her bare feet. “I’m sorry. Please don’t hurt me. I didn’t mean it.”
“You did mean it!” Lucifer roars. He snatches a handful of her greasy hair and yanks, forcing her gaze to his. Everyone aside from Niko and myself gasps in delight. “Don’t you stand here and lie to my face. You meant it then, and you would do it again. Wouldn’t you? You would make them both pay for existing.”
In a shocking act of sick seduction, he dips his head to run his nose along the column of her exposed, sweaty neck. “Mmmmm, yes, you would. I can scent the malice on you. Even talking about it now gets you hot.”
He releases her so quickly that she stumbles back into the guard, who roughly sets her upright. I should feel bad for her. I should feel bad for them both. But after rehashing those tumultuous years under their rule of cruelty, all I feel is anger. Anger for what they did. Anger for not making them suffer at my own hands.
I remember it all. The wounds still dribble with blood as if Lucifer had just ruptured the stitches of my scarred past. I had to stay good…had to stay quiet and out of trouble if I wanted to stay with Sister. If not, I would be sent back to the group home. I already had a reputation for being a troubled child, and one step out of line meant I would lose the only person that cared for me.
So I stayed quiet. I kept my head down. I wanted to be invisible, so Sister and I could remain together. I could have forced my will on them. I could have crept into their minds and manipulated that same hatred that they had so generously unleashed on me. But I was afraid of being caught. And I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to stop.
I don’t dare breathe until Lucifer takes his seat, and casually turns to me, those eyes the shade of a wicked sky gleaming with excitement. “What do you say, Eden? Should we have our fun? Would that please you, my love?”
I lift my chin to reply, and catch movement out the corner of my eye. The guards…those brutal, disgusting creatures that are not quite serpent yet not quite man begin to disrobe, whipping off straps of leather. Bulbous mounds of muscle flex under greenish-black scales as they unsheathe their monstrous cocks, pumping them in their clawed hands from root to tip. With horrified eyes, I look to Niko, who matches my disgust. I open my mouth to spew my revulsion, but he shakes his head just a fraction, telling me to still the protest bubbling from my throat.
The sounds of screaming as dirty underwear is ripped from their bodies is enough to bring tears to my eyes. I lower my head and squeeze my eyes tight, refusing to take part in what I know inevitably comes next. The clash of chains, the slap of skin, the peals of feminine laughter as saliva is spit into grubby palms. I know what will happen and I am helpless to stop it. And maybe a tiny, deviant piece of me doesn’t want to…
I shake the notion from my head.
No. No, this was wrong. No matter who they were and what they had done, no one deserves this.
I nearly chuck up my dinner all over the carved wooden table as their screams ring through the dining hall. The guards’ grunts of approval as they tear through flesh and stain them with blood and sin are unbearable. How can they find pleasure in this torture? How can they stay aroused through their victims’ helpless cries?
Smooth fingers stroke my cheek and I shriek, recoiling from the gentle touch. Lucifer’s breath is warm and seductive on my ear. “Ah-ah-ah. Don’t hide from this, Eden. Watch. See how they squirm and cry like pathetic little maggots in the dirt. See the fear in their eyes as it gives way to the pleasure their bodies can’t deny. Look for me now, love. Take joy in their feebleness as they have taken joy in yours.”
He grasps my chin, forcing my head up. I try to resist the urge to look at the grotesque scene just feet away, but I can’t help it. I’m weak. I’m tired. There is nothing left in me to fight.
The rapist guards have forced both Zachary and Danielle to their knees and are pumping rapidly inside them. Their thrusts are vicious, ruthless, and cause my insides to churn with acid. So much pain on their faces. So much regret and shame and hopelessness on display as a jovial audience laughs and sneers over glasses of wine.
“Don’t cry for them, darling,” Lucifer whispers, still clutching my jaw. “They don’t deserve your tears. Do you think they would give one single solitary fuck if that were you, being ripped open over and over again? Do you think they would mourn you?”
I shake my head, an aching sob in my throat. “I don’t care. No one deserves this.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, my love.” He sits back in his seat, gracefully folding one leg to rest on his knee. “Our friend Zachary is a pedophile. Ah, yes. The reason he tormented so many of his gay classmates? He has a penchant for little boys as young as the tender age of three. Truly a sick fuck to the core. I found him in the act too. He had ravaged a small child until he bled out and expired from the brutality. And out of fear, Zachary began to pray, asking for help. Unlucky for him, our merciful Father had more important things to attend to. I was the one who answered the call.”
The blood drains from my cheeks as I look up at him, reading the sincerity painted so effortlessly on his face. I don’t have to ask him if it’s true. I believe him. A piece of shit like Zachary would be capable of such horrid acts.
“You see me and you see a monster. But it wasn’t me who allowed those countless children to suffer. It wasn’t me who let him freely torture and maim and sodomize again and again. Had it not been for my interference, he would still be out there, raping babies—babies, Eden. I’ve stopped him for good. And now he is getting just a taste of what he’s done to his young victims.”
There are no words in any language that can refute his claims, so I merely nod. He’s right. Zachary was—is—a predator. No matter how many times he’s raped, he’ll never understand just an ounce of the pain he’s caused.
“And the girl…you’ll understand why I had to do what I had to do,” Lucifer explains. “You see, the bullying did not stop after high school. D
anielle made it her life’s work to taunt and humiliate others. She trolled social media websites, targeting young, impressionable girls, not much unlike you and your sister years ago. She attacked them, sent them threats of violence, and urged them to end their lives. And in a desperate act of malice, she staged a trap that resulted in nude photos of a minor that were sent to every student, parent and faculty member at her school. A twelve year old girl who was only seeking the love and acceptance by her peers, much like the orphaned freshman she terrorized daily in high school.” Lucifer pauses, gazing blankly at the live action snuff film just feet away. “She got her wish. That twelve year old girl ended her life…wrapped a belt around her neck, attached it to a ceiling fan and jumped. Her mom found her after school one day, with a suicide note crumpled at her feet.”
“Oh my God,” I gasp, covering my mouth with trembling fingers.
“Ask Him where He was,” Lucifer quietly demands, turning his gaze on me. “Ask Him why He didn’t stop it. Were others more worthy, more deserving of His grace? I won’t lie—I take great pleasure in doling punishments to those who are foolish enough to earn them. But these were innocents, Eden. Innocent children. And He stood by and did nothing.
“So watch with vengeful eyes as justice is served. Take comfort in the fact that I won’t let these cretins get away with rape and murder. What they’ve done…what they would have continued to do…will not go unpunished.”
Seduced by the earnestness of his words, I turn my head—against every instinct within me—and I watch. And when their cries die to mere whimpers, and blood trails in crimson rivulets down their thighs, I don’t cringe and shut my eyes. I bear witness to their degradation for all the children abused and tortured. No one watched while they hurt and bled. No one ached for them in their agony. So I’ll shoulder it all, and carry their pain in tribute to their shattered lives. And I will find peace and joy in the fact that they will suffer no longer at the hands of these villains.
End of Eden (Se7en Sinners Book 2) Page 3