The back doors of the van swing open, but through my closed eyelids, the sun’s light is nowhere to be found. A pair of footsteps march across the gravel and climb into the back of the van. They stop beside my ear. I hear the chains rustle from above me and my hands fall to my stomach. Another smart move on their part. They kept the keys separate from the guard in charge of watching me.
My body lifts again as I’m put over one their shoulders and brought into wherever they are keeping me. The walk is slow this time, methodical and graceful. They weren’t the least bit worried about being spotted, so wherever we are now, it must be remote. Probably an old warehouse or something of that nature. A perfect spot for dumping bodies and the other sketchy things that demons do.
Judging by the echo of their footsteps, it’s a concrete floor and it’s spacious. Whether it’s a highly guarded outpost or just a stashing spot, I have no clue, but I’d hate to be knee deep in demon territory in my current situation.
“Let her down here.” My body slowly drops into a chair. They bring my hands behind my back and cuff the link to a bolt on the floor.
“She’s going to be in for quite the shocker when she wakes up, especially if she doesn’t cooperate.” I hear something on wheels pull up beside me. “I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of any of this shit.” I pick up the haunting zing of something sharp scraping across a nearby surface.
“But it would be fun to watch, if he lets us watch, that is.”
“I hear that…but hey, we got to get back to our post. We got to make sure this place is secured. Remember last time?”
“Don’t remind me.” I listen to their feet tap in unison as they walk away, only opening my eyes five or so minutes after I hear the door shut. I start with a squint, cautious of who might be looking, before I open my eyes all the way. It’s a warehouse as expected. A big, dark, damp, empty warehouse. The floor is stained with splotches of old dried blood, and the only light that the warehouse offers is from a few dim bulbs that swing overhead. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a medical tray on a rusty cart. Against my better judgment, I direct my attention towards it and scope out the array of tools and torture devices they have pleasantly laid out for me.
Delightful.
I pull on my cuffs but the bolt wedged in the concrete behind me doesn’t budge. “Well this is…just perfect,” I mumble to myself before pulling against my restraints again. For the second time, nothing changes. They got me. I’m helpless to whatever they decide to throw at me. If only I were a bit stronger. Al could…no. It’s best not to think down that route. Nothing good can come from it. I’ll be fine. What I got right now is good enough. The drive gave me time to recuperate and if the going gets tough, Al can kick it into overdrive. I doubt he’d let me die without putting up a fight. All I have to do is stall and be in good enough shape to help whenever the welcoming committee arrives. Then I can put an end to this bullshit and hopefully get some answers while I’m at it.
I don’t recommend trying anything too drastic any time soon.
“What do you mean, Al?” I say softly as I scan the room. “I can’t just sit here and let them have their way with me.”
Raise too much hell before your friends arrive and suffer the consequences. Have you considered the possibility that your friends are already dead?
I pause and shudder at the prospect before casting the thought down from my imagination. “We do this as our day job, not as some run of the mill hobby. They’re alive.” I catch myself before I get too flustered, lowering my voice again to that of a whisper.
Humph, if you say so. It would be wise to consider all options when plotting your next course of action, whether they are in your favor or not.
“I know.”
And you should probably stop speaking to me. If someone is watching, your behavior can prove to be quite suspicious. Act frail or fragile. Less cold hearted killer, more terrified human. That or you could just be silent.
My head rocks back as a chuckle escapes from my lips. Al sure knows how to treat a lady, that’s for sure.
I continue to wrestle with my chains, blocking out Alfonse’s prediction from my memory and hoping for my estranged allies’ survival. Those guys are tough. Toughest people I’ve ever known. There’s no way they’re dead. I can’t help but revisit the thought as I wait remotely alone.
In the silence, I hear nothing but my own disgruntled breathing and the occasional cling from the shackles I tug at out of frustration. More time has passed. It’s impossible to tell exactly how much. It’s an old war tactic. A ruse. Let your prisoner sit by themselves with no sense of time in complete isolation. It gives the mind a chance to wonder and, if the prisoner is frail enough, the anticipation of what’s to come can drive him or her insane.
“Well look who finally decided to wake up.” The voice of a male I haven’t heard before echoes throughout the facility. From behind me, I hear his boots slowly moving down a flight of stairs, only changing pace once they hit the smooth concrete floor. “Did you miss me? Because I have most certainly been missing you.” My heart skips at his peculiar statement, causing me to shuffle through my mind in search of the common link. “Seriously? Nothing?” A tall broad shouldered man looks down at me with a sinister smile. “I’m hurt.”
“What can I say? I love’em and leave’em.”
“In my defense, I do have a tendency to switch bodies. I figured given what you are, you’d be able to see who I truly am. I do admit, I’m pretty disappointed.”
“Yeah, I get that a lot.” Ignoring my comment, the demon moves to the table of stainless steel knives and other assortments and grabs the biggest blade he can find.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m under the impression that you don’t take me seriously. That is…most unfortunate.” He holds the blade at an angle, allowing the fluorescent bulb overhead to reflect into his eyes. His glare hits me, and I find myself at a loss for words. Though his face is different, his eyes hold true to who he truly is. A chill flushes over my body, and I’m left with a hollowness that begins to slowly build with terror.
“You’re the demon from the coffee shop, aren’t you? The one who possessed Morgan.”
“Glad you can join the rest of the class,” he says as his grin widens. “Now we can begin the lesson for today. I call it, obedience.” I brace in the seat of my chair as he moves closer to me with the blade parallel to his chest. He stops sooner than I expect and whips the blade across my stomach. I grit my teeth but I refuse to yell as my suit begins to turn crimson. My heart begins to race as the nerve endings beneath my broken skin scream in agony. Before I can regain my composure, he swipes again with perfect accuracy, digging deeper into the same spot. My body jumps and my heart skips a beat as more of my blood pours onto the floor. My sight momentarily doubles but with a series of blinks, my vision restores itself to its full capacity. Come on. Get it together, Sailor.
“Hurts doesn’t it?” the demon says as he raises his blade to his mouth and glides his tongue over the contour of the blade. “As you know, Hell was originally created for the angels after the fall. After man fell, He decided to throw your kind into the pit as well. Imagine that. Throwing His precious creations, His children, in the same pit where He disposed of His rejects. I’d say it was a blessing in disguise. At least for us.” He pauses and his smile widens. “Why do you think He’d do that? Do you have any idea what we do to those poor innocent souls trapped in our Hell?” I say nothing but keep eye contact with the beast as he continues to tell his tale. “They’re like little punching bags that we use to take out our aggression. So feeble, so delicate, so lost. And we have the privilege to take out centuries of rage, hate, and anguish on them. It’s something, I must say, that I never get bored of.”
“Well you sound quite fulfilled with your life choices.” A left hook snaps across my face, sending flecks of blood from my mouth onto the floor.
“Speak when spoken to.” I spit the remainder of my blood to the side and d
rag my head back in his direction. “For as long as I can remember, I have tortured humans who have found their way into the pit through their own folly. Hundreds of thousands, day in and day out. I torture them. I break them. I destroy them. You are no different.”
THE END
The Pack Book Two: Sailor Ray and the Dark Descent
Available now
The Pact Book Two: Sailor Ray and the Dark Descent
Captured—that’s what I am.
I tried to save Benjamin Evans, a local bartender, but instead, I ended up in a bit of a jam; strapped to a chair, with nowhere to run. The only option left is to fight, although I’m not sure how.
Torture is the name of the game.
Who sent me? What do I want with Ben? Why was I at the nightclub? He used to ask me those questions, but he stopped not long after our session began. Now he plans on hitting me until I finally break, which is unfortunate, because I have no intention of dying here and I won’t be broken.
Despite what that demon prick has to say, I won’t be his vessel or whatever he has planned for me. I have my own agenda, like saving Benjamin and getting answers about my parents’ deaths.
I’m going to escape one way or another, and when I do, there’ll be hell to pay.
~
His fists weigh on me like cobblestone, cracking against the side of my head with every successful blow. He takes his time, slowly spacing the pain with moments for me to reflect on why I have yet to cooperate with his demands. It’s no more than a second or two, but it makes all the difference when at his mercy. Who sent me? What do I want with Ben? Why was I at the nightclub? He used to ask me those questions, but he stopped not long after our session began. He knew I was resilient, so instead of asking the same questions over and over again, he promised that he would make my life a living hell until I told him what he wanted to hear. The option to talk never came to my mind. It was no secret that the second I spoke, he’d kill me. He wants to break me, and he claims I’m no different than the others. He’s sadly mistaken.
I’m far from broken, and with every hit, he only adds to the raging fire burning within me. He was right when he said that there was something sinister brewing within me. It’s beyond Alfonse. Possibly some kind of demonic love child born from past trials and current tribulations; nurtured by no other than the demon that rests within me.
While he’s beating me, I don’t squirm. Instead, I fantasize of all the ways I plan on ripping him limb from limb while I patiently wait. I’ll be damned if I end up being his little bitch in the afterlife, and to be honest, I’d much rather prefer to have him on his knees in the realm of the living.
The Pact Book Two: Sailor Ray and the Dark Descent
Available now
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The Darkest Night
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Just Who is Sailor Ray?
As I’m sure you all can tell by now, Sailor is pretty awesome. Plain and simple. That is all. See you later!
Just kidding.
Sailor is a bit of a rebel, to say the least, but her motives and behaviors are only because of the life she has lived up to the point of where the story starts. That, and she has a demon in her slowly trying to strip away her humanity. Throughout the whole course of the book, Sailor’s view on morality shifts and is often right on the edge of what is traditionally good or evil. She wants to avenge her father’s death but enlist a demon to help her do so. At times, she hesitates to fight the possessed, and then in the same breath, she shoots but doesn’t flinch. Even her conversations with Alfonse teeter on the verge of blatant hate and a kinda sorta friendship. Her views are further blurred from the presumed absence of “good” throughout her life. Her encounters with evil are numerous, but if good is supposed to win in the end, where are its troops? Sailor doesn’t deny God’s existence, but she rather take matters into her own hands as hinted through both her past and current events. Speaking of which…
In “The Darkest Night,” I intentionally left out most of Sailors origin story to give you a sample of how Al and Sailor’s agreement works. In book two, I plan to tell the story of how the pact came to be, as well as other elements of Sailor’s past. Sailor is in quite the bind right now, if I do say so myself. Oh and I didn’t forget the Claumonte Brothers from Chapter 7! I am itching to do a prequel with Sailor pre-pact hunting Vamps and other things that go bump in the night with her Father.
It’s been a blast creating Sailor’s universe and I hope you stick around for the ride!
About the Author
Alex Villavasso was born and raised in Louisiana where he first found his love for fiction while reading through the summer months. When he is not working on getting his thoughts out of his head, Alex can be found doing things that everyone tends to do, like sleeping, catching up with friends, and spending copious amounts of time on Netflix.
Alex hangs out at AlexVillavasso.com. You can connect with him on Facebook at Facebook.com/AlexVillavasso and on Twitter at @AlexVillavasso. Alex can also be reached at [email protected] if you prefer to contact him through email.
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Sailor Ray and the Darkest Night (The Pact Book 1) Page 10