by Faye, Amy
Chapter 2
Cady
The first thing Cady saw when she woke up were stars bursting behind her eyelids before she even opened them. There was a dull, throbbing pain coming from the back of her head.
She didn't dream. All she had experienced was blackness. She also hadn't really slept. She didn't feel rested. She felt in pain, and tired, and confused.
Trying to sit up, she found that she was unable to move. Her arms and legs were tied to something, and she realized that she was laying on something even less comfortable than her bed. It was solid and hard, with no cushion beneath it.
Whimpering, she didn't want to open her eyes. She wanted to go back to sleep and wake up back in her bed. As she remembered that she was trying to escape, she dreaded what she would find when she did open her eyes. Who had stopped her? Why was she in so much pain?
Finally, the fear of the unknown overwhelmed her fear of knowing, and she opened her eyes. She was in the room she had dreamed about, with dark gray metal on the ceiling and mirrors on the walls. She knew from her dream that the mirrors were one way, and that she could be seen from the other side.
A pale and sad face appeared above her. It was Janine, with tears in her eyes and a quivering lip. “Please don't be mad at me, Cady!”
Cady wanted to ask why she should be mad, but her throat was dry. She swallowed, but just shook her head in confusion.
“I had to stop you from leaving. I knew that you would never really want to leave. I was saving you from the evil inside of you.”
“What?” Cady croaked as her voice returned.
Janine gave her a sad smile and sat back, just at the edge of Cady's vision. “I knew when you told me about your dreams that you had been possessed, and that the real Cady was fighting to stop the demon within from running away.”
“Oh, God,” Cady groaned, struggling against her bindings. She looked down and saw then that she was naked, her legs spread wide. “Where am I, Janine?” She already knew the answer, but she wanted it confirmed.
“You're with the Counselors. They'll be here soon, to show you how much they love you and to exorcise the demon inside of you. We all love you so much, Cady. You have to fight! Don't let the demons lie to you.”
“Please let me go!”
Janine's hand met Cady's face. It stung for a long time, and left a bright red mark and tears in her eyes. Janine sobbed and wiped Cady's hair from her forehead. “Shh, shh, it's okay. We love you. We're going to help you.”
The sound of a door opening got Cady's attention, but it was from another room. There were men's voices, too many and too muffled to count. She knew that they were watching her through the mirrors.
She was used to being taken by the men. In fact, she had grown to love it since she turned 18. It was her duty as a woman of The Lore Keepers, to have her womb filled. This, though, was different.
The Counselors were torturers, and they had done something to Sasha. The vent kicked on, and a strange sense of peace and relaxation fought with her fear. She tried to keep the memory of her dreams in mind, tried to force herself to fight, but her body gave in. Cady cried, but softly.
Her last bit of resistance was nearly gone. “They're going to hurt me like they hurt Sasha, Janine.” Her voice choked and wavered.
“See, that's what I'm talking about. Sasha was being paranoid, too. She was possessed, and you are possessed. We couldn't save her, Cady, but you are stronger than her. You can fight harder, and you must! Don't let the demons take you from us!”
“How could you do this to me? I thought we were friends!”
Janine shook her head and sighed. “I'm doing this because I love you. Because you are my friend. I don't want to lose you to your evil.” She stepped away and looked to the mirrors on the right side of the room. Cady looked, too, and thought she could just barely see the shadows of the men behind it.
They were laughing about something. She tried counting the voices. One, two, three… but no, that one sounded similar. And there, two spoke over one another. She couldn't make out the number of men. She only knew that there were many, and they would all use her. Using her was fine. Torturing her wasn't.
She would have to follow their every order if she wanted to get out of their torture alive. But if she gave in too easily, they might not believe her. Tears leaked down the sides of her face as she looked back up to the blank, cold ceiling.
The voices get louder, and then one of the mirrors swings open. The men grow quiet, and stare at the two women before them. Their eyes are hungry, but determined and serious. This would be both pleasure and work for them.
The gas that was being pumped into the room to calm Cady was stopped as the men stepped inside. They nodded to Janine, who bowed for them. The bruise on her cheek shined like a dark purple rose against her pale face.
Leaning over Cady, Janine presses her lips against her face and smiles down. “You'll be okay. Fight the demons while the men help you. You can do this.”
One of the men, one she had never seen before, stepped forward and cleared his throat. His hair was long, past his shoulders, and his face had a full beard. “We are hear to help you, Cady. Because we love you.”
Janine slipped past the men and shut the mirror behind her. The men surrounded Cady, and she was finally able to count them. Eight. Eight men surrounded her, ready to use her and torture her. Eight men with wicked hunger in their eyes and evil smiles on their lips.
She wanted the pleasure. She wanted their attention. She just didn't want the pain. She prayed, silently, that the pain would be quick, and the torture over soon.
Closing her eyes, Cady wondered if Janine was right. Was she truly possessed, giving in to a foreign evil?
She found herself believing the men really were there to help. Their eyes were filled with love. One touched her nude thigh as he stepped closer, but the man with the beard and long hair stopped him.
“We do this in order. We follow the rules. We are not just here to pleasure ourselves. We must have a purpose, and the purpose is to save Cady.” He looked around at the other men, who all nodded in agreement. “Now, let us begin at the beginning.”
Dean
The sun was still nowhere to be seen by the time Dean made it up to his ski lodge. He still smelled like werewolf blood, and he knew if he didn't change out of those clothes the smell would wake up the guests staying with him.
The lobby was empty, which was normal at that time of night. Few of his patrons were night owls, and he sent his cooks and maids home after dinner was served.
Patting his hand on the head of a stuffed brown bear that greets everyone when they enter, he smiles and rubs his beard. Having the bear at the front made the guests feel safe. They liked knowing that the man who owned their ski lodge was capable enough with a gun to kill a bear. If they knew more about his past, they would feel even safer, until he mentioned that a past like that gets a lot of unwanted attention.
He sighed and walked past the walls filled with other animals he killed while he owned the lodge. The bears were easy to be proud of, but they were hardly the most dangerous things he ever had to shoot. In the end, it wasn't even the ones you could shoot that were the scariest. It was the ones you had to stab, the ones you had to get up close and personal with. Like most werewolves, since silver bullets were both expensive and unreliable.
Too many of the werewolves he hunted had been able to survive silver bullets. He knew now to stab them.
Still, his guests liked seeing his normal trophies, and he often cooked the venison he got for them. He hunted for pleasure, to relieve stress and to feel useful. Venison tasted awful to him, truth be told. He was glad that he had so many others that were willing to eat it.
Other hunters, hunters like him, were particularly fond of eating his game. A few said it felt like being fed by Hercules, but those hunters were young and stupid. Dean was no legendary hero. He was barely a man himself when he bagged his biggest win, only 19 years old.
&nbs
p; It was an old trickster goddess, a woman named Eris. Dean didn't believe she was the real Eris, because if she had been he would have been toast. No, it was more likely that she had been some small fry that took the name to scare others.
She was using local children to slaughter the whole town, and the police couldn't even stop them. He had to hurt some kids. It was impossible to stop them from charging at them, so he had to knock them out. The way their small bodies slumped to the floor still made him cringe, but he was proud that he never had to kill one of them.
After the horror of knocking out a bunch of 8 year olds, Dean was pissed. The fight with Eris was quick, and she died easily once her young bodyguards were down. There was terror in her eyes, and Dean often wondered where monsters like her went when they died. What were they so scared of?
Since that, trickster gods and every other monster group he killed put Dean on their radar, and he rarely got a moment's rest. Last month had been blissfully calm. Then the damn werewolf showed up.
Sighing, he tossed off his coat and hat, which removed most of the stink, leaving them on the chair at his front desk. He would deal with them later. A quick glance at the answering machine told him that no one had called. Maybe he would get another month of peace.
The muted TV had been left on while he was gone. A news anchor was talking about something or other, but the ticker at the bottom made Dean roll his eyes. Heavy snow was coming. Unlike the rest of the world, the mountains got plenty of cold and snow that winter. It was good for business, but it meant he would have to shovel another foot of snow or more from his parking lot.
Slipping into the back room, he grabbed a bear from his mini fridge. There was beer in the kitchen, too, but it wasn't the good stuff. He kept the good stuff for himself. Hey, a man was allowed to be selfish now and then.
With his stomach growling and his beer in hand, he plodded into the kitchen in search of something to eat. Hunting could really work up a man's appetite. His hand was just grabbing the handle of his industrial-sized refrigerator when his cell phone went off. The chime set him on edge. It was too late at night, and the number was known by too few people. He gritted his teeth, but he waited without moving until the phone shut up.
Dean pulled out a piece of pizza. He took a bite of it and chewed slowly. If they don't call back, I don't have to worry about it. Not my problem, he thought. He swallowed, and his phone went off again. His hand started to shake, and he couldn't tell if it was anxiety or anger. Not many people would have called back. In fact, only one person would have called back so late at night.
“Edwin,” Dean grunted into the phone. Edwin Jerger was an old friend, from before either of them had been hunters. They met when they were only kids, in fact. Stupid kids.
Edwin had served in Afghanistan while Dean was killing Eris and other monsters. When he got back, he was already a hunter, but he never told Dean how he got into the business. Never told what monster had fucked him up so bad as to change his personality completely. Sure, he served in Afghanistan, saw his share of bombs and shootings, but all of his scars? Those had come from hunting. Every one of them.
“Hey, Dean. You sound good and annoyed.” There was a smile in his voice.
Dean huffed. “I just got back from killing a werewolf. I still stink.”
“Ah. Good stuff, my man. I miss hunting.”
“No you don't.”
“True, I suppose. Anyway, how are you doing besides that? How's the lodge?”
Leaning against the fridge, Dean takes another bite of his pizza. “Quit the shit, Edwin, I know you only call when you need help.” He only called when he needed help, and it was serious, too. That worried Dean.
“That's not fair. You just don't answer when I don't need help. But in this case, you're right. Well, I'll get right into it then. I found my daughter.”
Dean stood up straight, his eyebrows rising. “Seriously?”
“Yes, sir.”
17 years of searching, and he had finally found her. Dean was impressed. He wasn't sure how Edwin did it, but it couldn't have been easy to track down a girl whose name you didn't even know. “Her mom?”
“Dead,” Edwin answered. Not a drop of grief on his tongue, which didn't surprise Dean. You don't literally steal a man's child and keep his love.
“Well, that's great, Edwin!”
“No, it isn't. She is in for a world of hurt if the people she's hanging with find out who I am. Who her daddy is. She's got in with some sort of cult, one her mom join when she left me. And brother, these men are no good.” Edwin's voice shook with anger. Dean wished he could pat the man on his back, console him. “So that's why I need your help.”
“I'm retired,” he grumbles.
“Need I remind you exactly why I can't do this myself? I lost this damn leg because of you, because I saved your sorry ass. Plus, you're my only hunter friends. The rest of them hate me for some reason.”
Dean laughed, then, shaking his head. “They don't hate you, you just never talk to them. And when are you gonna stop using that as an excuse for me to do your dirty work? You got one of the best prosthetic legs money can buy, you're more than capable of running around. You're practically a cyborg.”
“Gonna use it as long as it works on you!” They both laughed again, and Dean missed his friend. He wished he could hug him.
“Alright, fine. Tell me more about this cult. Who or what do they worship? Are they Jim Jones types, or real occult types? Are they just a bunch of idiot hippies, or the real deal?”
Edwin was silent for a moment. The silence allowed anxiety to creep back into Dean's shoulders. “They're the real deal, man, and you're not gonna like it. You're really not. You're gonna hate me for this, for who they worship. And I wish it wasn't true, man, but it is.”
“Just spit it out,” Dean boomed.
“They worship Olivia.”
Dean dropped his phone, frozen in place.
Chapter 3
Cady
“Now, let us begin at the beginning.”
The man with the beard walked away for a moment, then pulled a medical cart over to the bed. Cady couldn't see what was on it, and he wheeled it so that it was behind her head. The men all looked at the objects upon it with wicked smiles.
“First, we confirm that evil has taken your body. We do this with holy water. See? It smells of roses.” He tipped a small golden flask to her nose and let her smell, and it did smell of lovely roses. Again, the mix of fear and calm happiness churned inside of her. They were fighting for control. Calm won again.
He let the other men smell the water, and then poured some in his hand. She noticed that his hands were soft, unlike the other men. He wasn't a worker. So it must have been one of The Priest's sons.
He poured the beautiful water on her head, and for a moment it did nothing. Then she screamed, she screamed horribly, because the water started to burn her. She struggled against her bindings again, struggled to wipe away the water, but she could not. “Please! Please, it burns!”
The son of The Priest does not wipe it away. Instead, he pours more onto her forehead, and it burns again. “So it is confirmed. She is possessed.” He frowned, a deep frown that made his age ambiguous. He looked older than she first thought just then, but it could have been the pain playing games with her.
The other men watched with fear in their eyes.
“You see, men, when a woman burns from holy water, she can only be controlled by evil. By a demon. We learned this just last week, did we not?”
The other men nodded. “Yes, in our studies.”
“Good. Now,”
“Stop!” Cady screamed. “Stop! It burns because there are chemicals in it! I am not possessed, I was simply doubtful! Fearful! My dreams–”
“But, Cady, the water didn't burn my hands. You see?” He poured more of the water onto his palm, and showed it to the men around her. There was a murmur among them, they all nodded their heads and the look of fear came back. They feared her. They
feared a demon within her.
And it was true, he hadn't burned. Maybe Cady truly was possessed.
The son of The Priest wipes his dry hand on her cheek, a nurturing gesture that burned with gentleness that she no longer felt she deserved. Tears came to her eyes. She was defiled. She was evil.
“What is your name, demon?” The man with the beard asked. He took her chin and forced her too look into his eyes.
She couldn't answer, for he was not asking her. He was asking the evil that was inside of her. She only cried.
“What is your name, demon?!” He pinched her nipple as he asked, a look of fury crossing his face.
“My name is Cady!” She cried, turning her chest to escape the pain but failing to do so. He nodded to the other men.
Another man pinched her other nipple. His grip was more painful that the bearded man's grip. She whimpered and cried again. She wanted to be good, and to no longer be possessed.
“Relax, Cady, and let the demon come forward. Relax.” She moaned, the pain mixing with the pleasure.
Suddenly, the bearded man held up a hand. “Stop!” He shouted. “I can hear the demon talking to me. It says… yes, it says its name is Marukka. Didn't we just learn about Marukka?”
One of the men stepped forward. “Marukka is the knower of secrets.”
“Ah, yes. Marukka. We have read about you, demon.” He punctuated the word 'demon' with a twist to her nipple. She moaned again. “We know that you know all secrets. Reveal a secret, so that we might confirm your identity.”
The men were all silent. The bearded man and the other took their hands from Cady's breasts.
Suddenly, one of the men started to scream. He fell to the floor, to his knees, pressing his hands to his ears. “Shut up!”
All the men were silent.
“Marukka revealed your secret?” The man with the beard asked. His eyes were alight with glee. It was a strange, unnerving look.
The man on the ground nodded, then sobbed on the ground. The man with the beard grinned, but then wiped the smile away.