by J. M. LeDuc
“I’m glad you like it.” Jonas pointed to a table in the far corner of the bar. “Why don’t we have a seat? Your feet must be tired after all that jumping.”
They sat across from one another at the table. “So, what’s your name or should I just call you Lucky?” Jonas said.
She giggled before she took another sip. “Millicent, but my friends call me Millie.”
“Well, Millie, here’s to new friends,” he said, raising his glass in a toast.
“To new friends,” she repeated, clinking her glass with his. In one gulp, she emptied her glass. She reached into her purse and said, “Do you mind if I smoke?”
“Not at all, but I’m afraid I don’t have a ma—” Before Jonas could finish the sentence, the bartender offered a light to Millie. She leaned forward to accept the gesture giving him a clear view down the front of her dress.
Millie noticed the bartender leer at her breasts. She looked up and purposely exhaled smoke into his face. The cloud of smoke brought him back to reality. His eyes shifted from her breasts to her face. The look of disdain in her eyes was enough to let him know that he had no chance of getting lucky.
“I hate it when guys think you’re easy just because you dress a little sexy, ya know?” It seemed to Jonas that the incident brought Millie down, but he was there to cheer her up.
He placed his small hand on top of Millie’s and said, “Hey, don’t let some jerk ruin your special day. I think you look amazing.”
The words instantly changed her mood. Her face lit up like a slot machine flashing 7-7-7. She brought her hand to her chest and fumbled with her cross. “Do you really think so? This is my first time in Vegas and I wasn’t sure how to dress. When I walked into the casino this morning, I felt overdressed, but I was too embarrassed to go back to my room and change.”
Watching her fiddle with the crucifix made Jonas’ rage build again. “Believe me, you’re perfect.” For what I have in mind, he thought.
She released a sigh of relief. With each compliment, Millie let down her guard a bit more. Jonas picked up the bottle and refilled her glass.
“Here’s to your luck in the casino and my luck in meeting a new friend.”
They touched glasses to consecrate the friendship and Millie brought hers to her lips. Jonas reached over, gently tilting her flute back. Millie quickly drained the champagne.
“You’re funny,” she giggled. “That one made me a little tipsy.” Her head turned toward the bartender. “It’s a good thing you’re here with me or I might let that jerk get a closer look.” She laughed harder and held her glass out for a refill.
An hour and two bottles of champagne later, Millie was inebriated.
“I’ve had so much fun,” she said, “but I have to go lie down.” She fumbled in her purse for her room key card with the room number prominently displayed. “Thank you for the champagne. Oh, my goodness, in all the commotion and fun, I never asked you your name. You are…?”
“I’m…in dire need of a restroom and I detest public bathrooms. Would you mind if I came to your room to use the facilities?” he asked.
“I know what you mean. Of course, you can use my bathroom.”
“Let me go pay for our drinks and I’ll be right back.”
By now, the bar was crowded. When Jonas signed the check with Millie’s room number, no one questioned it.
He noted the placement of the security cameras as they walked toward the elevators.
The elevator stopped suddenly when it reached her floor causing Millie’s head to spin. Jonas grabbed her from behind to steady her before she toppled over.
“I’ll help you, sweetie, just lean on me.”
“Oh, my…I’m dizzy,” she said. “All that champagne and no food went straight to my head. I don’t feel so good.”
“I promise you’ll feel better in no time. Let’s just get you back to your room.”
Jonas was about to lose his patience as he watched Millie fumble with her keycard. In exasperation, he yanked it out of her hand and slid it into the slot. He walked her over to an overstuffed chair and plopped her down. She sat in the chair, clothes and hair disheveled. Her dress rode high up her meaty thighs. Jonas was busy checking the room for security cameras. As he suspected, there were none.
While Millie struggled to keep the champagne down, Jonas hung the “Do Not Disturb” placard on the knob outside the door.
“I’m going to use the restroom,” he said. “Will you be okay for a few minutes?”
She nodded and made a shooing motion with her hand.
Inside the bathroom, he tore through her toiletries, looking for what he needed. He found a miniature sewing kit the hotel placed in all its rooms, and found Millie’s disposable lighter on the vanity. He grabbed the facecloth from the towel rack and to keep his clothes from getting dirty, stripped down to the skin. Then he rejoined his new friend.
Millie heard the bathroom door open, then close. She didn’t see Jonas exit the bathroom because her chair faced away from it.
As the Butcher slithered toward her, his eyes turned flame-red, their shape changing from human to serpent. Millie was about to ask for a glass of water when he spun the chair around so that she faced him.
The sight of him, stark-naked, startled her. She looked into his eyes. What she saw frightened her so much, she lost control of her bladder.
“It’s time to be cleansed of your sins,” he growled in a guttural tone.
He grabbed Millie by the neck and lifted her out of the chair. She sobered, realizing she was in a fight for her life. She defended herself by scratching him below his right eye. That act enraged him further, causing him to squeeze hard enough to cut off her air supply. Her flailing arms dropped to her sides as she turned blue and began to lose consciousness. Just then, Jonas let go of her neck, allowing her to take a much-needed breath of air. It wasn’t his plan to let her pass out. He enjoyed watching his victim’s reactions to their “cleansing.”
“I want you awake for your penance,” he told her, as his tongue slithered out of his mouth. It no longer looked human. Instead, it was frighteningly snake-like.
Mesmerized with fear, Millie watched his tongue, now bifid at the tip, come toward her and touch her face. It felt like acid touching her skin. Her eyes wide with fear, she kept her gaze on it as it recoiled back into his mouth.
“Your skin is bitter,” he growled. “I hope your soul is sweet.”
Shock wore off, despair set in. Millie cried uncontrollably.
“Let us not get that pretty dress stained with your tears, my sweet. Take your clothes off—now!”
Millie fell back into the chair.
“Stand up and do as I say!”
“Please, no. Don’t hurt me,” she begged. “Take the money in my purse. I have jewelry, expensive jewelry, in the safe. Let me get it for you.”
“Don’t test my patience. Strip!”
“Oh, God, no. Please don’t rape me.”
“Your God cannot help you now. Only mine can.”
She continued to cry and shake uncontrollably. Jonas lost patience. He grunted so loud and deep that Millie felt it in her stomach. In further defiance, he grabbed her gown between her breasts and tore it from her body so violently her shoulder straps exploded and the sequins flew from the fabric. Millie stood before her tormentor, her upper half fully exposed, the gown in a heap at her feet.
“That’s a start. Now, your pantyhose.”
She hesitated a second too long. Jonas slapped her across her face. She brought her hands up to protect herself, which brought a demonic smile to his distorted face.
He grabbed her by the back of the hair and pulled down forcefully. Her head snapped backwards. He looked into her eyes as the first drop of blood oozed from her cracked lip.
“You can either take them off or I’ll burn them off. The choic
e is yours.” His tongue snapped out of his mouth to catch the drop of blood before it left her lip.
With trembling fingers, she fumbled at the waistband of her stockings while Jonas licked blood droplets from her face.
“Pick them up and hand them to me.”
She began to pray as she bent down to comply with his demand. “Our Father whom art in heaven…”
“Empty words from an empty life.”
ENOUGH. A voice in Jonas’ head screamed. Do you think this is a game?
“No, Dark One, I just thought…”
Millie stopped praying when Jonas began talking to no one she could see.
You were not chosen to think. You were chosen, raised from a boy, to do my bidding, and MY time is at hand. Do you understand?
“Yes, Dark One.”
Now do as you were instructed.
Jonas stuffed the facecloth deep into Millie’s mouth, grabbed her pantyhose from her hands, then pushed her face down on the couch. He tied her hands behind her back with the legs of her stockings. He rolled her onto her back and ripped the cross from her neck. Millie watched in horror as the madman heated the cross with her own cigarette lighter until it was bright red.
“Denounce your God or pay the consequences.”
In an act of defiance, she shook her head.
Jonas smiled. He turned the cross upside down and placed it against her chest above her cleavage. Millie screamed through the gag as the cross burned her flesh. Jonas lifted it off her chest, delighted to see the impression it left, a fiery red upside down cross.
The only thing more engrossing than the sight was the smell of the burning flesh.
He yanked the gag from his victim’s mouth. Squeezing her head between his hands, he said, “I’ll give you one final chance to denounce your faith.”
“Go to hell,” she said.
With a violent twist, he snapped her neck. “You first.”
At the instant of death, Jonas placed his mouth against hers. He inhaled deeply, sucking her soul into his body to make him stronger.
Millie’s lifeless body lay crumpled on the couch. Jonas slung her over his shoulder as though she were weightless. He tossed her body onto the king-sized bed and arranged it in the shape of an upside down cross. With the sewing needle, he scratched a series of symbols onto her stomach.
Fifteen minutes later, Jonas, showered and dressed, walked out of the room. Stepping into the elevator, he looked into the security camera and smiled. He patted his pockets he’d filled with Millie’s winnings. Before calling it a day, he headed to a clothing store for new clothes; ones more to his liking.
As he walked away from the hotel, the voice inside his head said, well done, my son. You continue to do my will and, together, we’ll rule this world.
What is your will, Dark One?
You are to keep leaving messages for the Enlightened One.
Who is the Enlightened One? Jonas thought.
He has not yet shown himself, but trust me. He will…he will.
CHAPTER 10
Charlotte Dupree was furious when her father told her the news. Her first reaction was denial. She screamed that it must be a case of mistaken identity. Her father had no choice but to show Charlotte a photo of Jonas before his transformation, to convince her it was, indeed, true.
Once convinced, Charlotte’s denial erupted into anger. It was so fierce, she had to be restrained and sedated to protect herself. As the sedative worked its way through her body, she fell into a drugged, hellish sleep.
She woke covered in a cold sweat and faced the reality of the situation. The will to live drained from her body. Thoughts of suicide that dogged her for months after her abduction flooded her fragile psyche.
Her eyes opened as she lay supine on the leather couch in her father’s study. They locked on the presidential seal emblazoned on the ceiling. She heard her father’s voice and turned toward him. He reached out to touch her. She jerked her arm away, rejecting the gesture.
“Please, Angel, let me explain.”
“I don’t want to hear one word from you. There is nothing you can say I want to hear.” Her monotone voice was devoid of emotion.
The president looked into his daughter’s tormented eyes. Empty, like a corpse. After what seemed a lifetime of silence, he spoke. “Very well,” he rose from his chair, walked to where she lay, “Despite how you feel about me, I still love you and will do whatever it takes to keep you safe until that maniac is caught.”
Just as she was about to make a cutting remark, her father elevated his voice and kept talking.
“In order to keep you safe, you will be escorted to a safe house where you will spend the night. Tomorrow evening you will arrive at your final destination where you will remain until this situation is resolved.”
A throbbing headache from the drug, Charlotte fell back when she tried to stand.
“I don’t suppose I have a say in this matter?”
“No. Not this time.”
“And where will I be taken?”
“I’m sorry. I can’t tell you.”
So enraged with his answer, she no longer cared about the pain and forced herself to stand. “Why the hell not?”
The President tried not to let her emotional outburst draw him in. He knew he had to remain strong for both of them. He turned away from her. “Because that’s the way it has to be. It’s the only way to keep you safe.”
If she couldn’t rattle him, she figured she could load on the guilt. She stood, waited until the wobbling feeling passed, then walked over to her father.
“This is entirely your fault.” She stared at him, and moved a step closer. The president could feel her breath when she spoke. “If you had a spine, you would have executed him like you were supposed to. Then none of this would be happening.”
Worse than the sting of the words was the venom with which they were delivered.
They cut through his heart. Without looking at her, he turned to the Secret Service agents standing by and nodded.
As the trio headed out the door, he said, “I know it’s my fault. I just hope when it’s over both you and God can forgive me.”
“There is no God,” she said, “and I’ll be dead before this is over.” She stopped moving and looked back at him. “I’ve been dead for the past seven years. What happens now makes no difference.”
President Dupree choked back his emotions. “I love you, Charlotte.”
“Go to hell,” she said through clenched teeth.
The President watched her walk out of the room and feared she walked out of his life. When the door closed behind her, he fell to his knees. “Heavenly Father, help her find her way,” he cried. “She is a lost lamb in the wilderness. Please shepherd her home.”
CHAPTER 11
By the time she arrived at the safe house, Charlotte’s mind had cleared. The transfer from Secret Service agents to the Woodmeres went smoothly. After a quick tour of the house, she was taken to the bedroom where she would spend the night.
“Why don’t you freshen up?” Mrs. Woodmere said. “There are clothes in the closet that should fit you. You’re welcome to anything you like. I’ll knock on the door when supper is ready, but if you need anything in the meantime, just ask. Oh, and my name is Sonia.”
Charlotte sat on the bed, stared straight ahead, saying nothing. She felt numb. “Are you okay, sweetie? You don’t look so good.”
Charlotte looked up and nodded in robotic fashion.
Sonia felt sorry for her and sat down next to her.
“Look,” she said with compassion, “I don’t know what’s going on, heck, I don’t even know who you are. But I do know that, wherever you’re going, there isn’t a safer place on earth.”
“If you don’t know where I’m going, then how do you know it’s safe?”
“Be
cause you’ll be with the Ambassador. If anyone can protect you, it’s him.”
“The Ambassador of where?”
“Of where?”
“Yeah, of where? What country?”
“Oh, you’re talking about that kind of ambassador. No, that’s not what I meant. He’s not an ambassador of a nation, he’s God’s Ambassador, the true Ambassador.”
Sonia stood, leaned over and gently placed a kiss on Charlotte’s forehead. “Go ahead, freshen up. Dinner will be ready in about an hour.”
Sonia’s words didn’t bring Charlotte peace. She wondered how there could be an ambassador of God when there is no God.
After dinner, Charlotte sat in the great room near the fireplace. She watched the flames sway and dance. The symphony of movement brought a level of comfort, not just to her mind, but to her soul. For the first time in seven years, Charlotte felt safe.
Was it the absence of Secret Service agents? Was it this new place? Perhaps, it was a little of both.
“Can I get you anything?” Sonia’s gentle voice broke through Charlotte’s reverie.
“A cup of coffee or hot cocoa?”
“Hot cocoa sounds nice, thank you.”
“Coming right up.”
In a matter of minutes, Sonia returned, carrying two steaming cups of hot chocolate. She handed one to Charlotte and sat down beside her in the other rocking chair. Quietly, they sipped the drinks, entertained by the dancing flames. It reminded Charlotte of an aerial dogfight.
After a while, Charlotte said, “Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”
“Not at all. Ask whatever you like. I’ll answer whatever I can.”
“Fair enough.”
Her perplexed expression told Sonia that she wasn’t sure where to begin.
“Start with the first thing on your mind,” she coaxed.
“All right. You and your husband have been very kind to me. I haven’t seen you look at me funny or whisper behind my back. Do you know who I am?”