by C. R. Jane
She was relieved.
I didn’t know how she could be relieved when she was sending her daughter off to allegedly be sacrificed, or at least sending her daughter off into the hands of crazy people. Weren’t mothers the ones that were supposed to sacrifice for their children?
Regret at my ugly thoughts filled my mind as she threw her arms around me. I could feel her blood soaking into my nightclothes and her entire body was trembling as she held me tightly. She’d sacrificed for me repeatedly over the years. There had to be a reason for this now.
I was too numb and too shocked to give her a real hug back. I just prayed that someday, I would understand what was happening and why. The man was waiting impatiently outside the door, the trunk already in the car. I reluctantly pulled away from her, trying to quell the heavy urge I had to beg her to save me.
3
Elena
The man gave me a small bow as I walked away from the safety of my childhood home, and then gestured to the car. I guess it was a car, it looked more like a limo. In this situation, it reminded me less of the limo people used for prom and more like what the mafia or some other criminal mastermind used as their mode of transportation.
The inside of the vehicle was cool and dark. I slid across the leather seat, aware this was the first time that I had been surrounded by such a luxury. Although I wasn’t buying the whole ancient Greek god story, whatever my mother had found herself involved in, it appeared they had money.
There was a screen that separated the back of the limo from the front where the driver sat, but the driver helpfully moved the screen down so I could see him. Despite the fact that he looked like the living embodiment of death, I was glad not to be alone.
“What’s your name?” I asked. There was a short pause before he answered, as if he was debating whether he was supposed to tell me.
“Charon,” he finally answered.
I recognized the Greek name from my studies and tried to remember what myth his name was involved in.
Finally, it came to me. Charon. He was the guy who had ferried spirits across the River Styx in the Greek Underworld. I laughed somewhat manically. How fitting. Maybe this was a cult filled with people who believed they were reincarnations of Greek legends. I wondered if I needed to give him a few coins to ensure my safe passage. My laughter squeaked out louder at the thought.
My giggles abruptly cut off as I remembered a news article I’d seen the other day about fourteen girls that had been rescued from the sex trade. What if my mother had somehow gotten herself involved in that? Except I couldn’t explain those cuts on my mother’s body that had come out of nowhere…
I didn’t ask any more questions after that. Instead, I looked out the window, staring at the countryside as we passed it by. I hadn’t traveled very much growing up. My father had taken me to Chicago before he disappeared, one of my last memories of him. He’d left a few months later. And then we’d never had the money after that. I had always wanted to explore the world though, but I never imagined I would leave home this way.
After a few hours, that felt more like years, we stopped. We were still close enough that it wouldn’t be impossible for me to get home. Maybe I could escape.
As soon as I had the thought, it was like I could feel my mother’s pain, as if she were right this minute being struck again by invisible whips just at my rebellious thoughts. Somehow, I knew I wasn’t imagining it, it was actually happening. I wasn’t going to be able to go anywhere without her suffering the consequences. As upset as I was at my mother, I couldn’t let that happen.
Charon opened the door. I peeked out, squinting in the bright sunlight. My jaw dropped when I noticed that we had parked outside of an airplane hanger. There was a sleek black jet with no writing on it waiting on the tarmac in front of us. My mysterious cult kidnappers were definitely very wealthy.
Charon grabbed my trunk out of the limo and walked with me towards the airplane. As we approached the plane, the door of it opened and a set of stairs unfolded beneath it. I wasn’t sure if that was normal.
A beautiful woman dressed in a tight black skirt and a red blouse that reminded me of blood stood at the top, a wide smile on her face as she saw us approach. I slowly walked up the stairs, not bothering to say hi to what looked like the flight attendant. By her overly cheerful demeanor she was either one of the cult people and therefore an enemy at the moment, or blissfully unaware of anything. Either way she wasn’t going to be able to help me with anything.
All thoughts exited my head when I looked around the interior of the plane. It was like nothing I’d ever seen. The same black and red as the woman’s uniform took up the entire space, and everything was made of sumptuous fabrics. Instead of chairs, there were black leather couches lining both sides of the plane’s walls with tables in between them. There were a few doors at the back of the plane that I presumed led to a bathroom and possibly a bedroom. It was the kind of plane that the billionaires always had in the books I read.
At that moment, Charon appeared behind me, making me jump a bit. I saw that he was trying to stifle a smile at my idiotic reaction. Maybe he had a sense of humor after all.
Charon gestured silently to one of the lavish, black leather couches, and I went to sit down. It was the most comfortable thing I’d ever sat on, and I nestled into the soft leather, enjoying the comfort after the long car ride. There were seat belts connected to the couch, and I clicked one closed around me. No sooner had I done so then the door of the plane closed and the engine started up. No one said a word to me, but I was coming to expect that after my quiet car ride with Charon.
We were in the air soon after that, and I gripped the arm of the couch tightly, not a fan of the way my stomach felt like it was in my throat. It was ironic really that this was my first time in an airplane. Who would’ve thought that it would happen after getting abducted by a crazy cult?
As I watched the clouds pass by, I suddenly remembered Dallin and the fact that he would be waiting for my text message today. Looking around and seeing that Charon and the pretty flight attendant weren’t looking my way, I surreptitiously patted my pocket, trying to see if I had remembered to slip my phone inside it. I groaned when I remembered that it was sitting on my bed upstairs still. I hadn’t believed that I was actually going anywhere when I walked downstairs this morning. I definitely would have at least changed out of my pajamas and into regular clothes. I cursed my stupidity. I should’ve known that what was happening was very real with the way my mother had acted the night before.
Again, a flash of hurt spiraled up my spine. How could she have gotten herself involved in something like this and brought me into it? I thought that she of all people had loved me. I didn’t have very many of those in my life, but I’d always been able to count on her.
We flew for hours. The flight attendant brought me a plate of assorted nuts and fruit, but I had lost any semblance of hunger with the situation and politely declined, despite the fact I hadn’t eaten since the night before. Charon tried to be helpful by turning on a movie on one of the giant flat screens. I laughed when I saw he had turned on Brad Pitt’s version of Troy. How fitting for the situation. I guess at least Brad Pitt was hot.
At some point in the flight, I drifted off. My dreams filled with images of me surrounded by Greek heroes battling in a field soaked in blood. And in the background, my mother silently wept as she watched me in their midst. I was woken up by the plane hitting the tarmac, signaling that we had landed. Opening my eyes was a struggle. I had been in a deep sleep.
I looked out the window to see where we were. It looked similar to the terrain at home. There were thousands of trees everywhere you looked, and they stretched on for miles. The only thing different was the giant mountains in the distance, their peaks covered in snow.
“Where are we?” I asked no one in particular. As usual, I didn’t get an answer. The plane door opened up, and I unbuckled my seatbelt and got up. Charon walked past me from the back, carrying my hea
vy black truck once again. He exited the plane, not saying a word to me. Apparently, I was supposed to follow him.
For some reason, the flight attendant looked decidedly less happy with me as I approached the staircase. I wondered if my refusal of her fruit tray had somehow set her off. I said thank you and headed down the stairs, but I could feel her eyes boring into the back of my skull as I walked away.
There was another limo waiting right outside the plane. Charon had the door opened already and was once again impatiently waiting for me. I got into the backseat, and he closed the door behind me. Away we went once again.
There was no sign of civilization as we drove. There were no stores, or other cars, or any other signs of life. For someone who had always been around other people, it was a little bit terrifying to feel so alone. Charon finally turned down a long driveway that was almost entirely obscured by trees. A few feet in, we stopped at an enormous set of iron gates, the kind that usually stood outside a giant manor or other historical building. It opened in front of us slowly, and we drove through. The driveway seemed to stretch on forever. The thick foliage along the sides of the road made it impossible for me to see what was around. After another five-minute drive, we finally saw the first sign of civilization. It was a house, or maybe the better word for it was a castle. All gray stone and winding turrets, it was something out of a fairy tale.
I looked at it in awe. I had never seen such a structure, not even the rich kids in my town had lived in places that came close to equaling the size of it. Whoever owned this had to have had a legion of servants and help to keep up the property. Or maybe this was where the entire cult was located. It certainly looked like it could hold hundreds of people comfortably. Everyone could probably have their own bedroom.
Charon seemed more at ease when he opened my door, his posture more relaxed. I wondered what he had been so nervous about before. Did he think I was going to put up a fight? I thought we were past that for now.
I looked at my surroundings as I followed Charon to the massive set of double doors that marked the entrance, trying to memorize the lay of the land around me in case I needed to do something drastic like escape. The door opened before we could knock on it. Another man stood in the doorway dressed in another dated tuxedo. I wondered if there was a cult requirement that you had to be dressed up at all times. Looking down at my black leggings and my oversized sweatshirt I had slept in, I gave a little hysterical laugh. Maybe when the head of the cult saw what I looked like, he would send me right back.
The man at the door had a hook-like nose and wide set brown eyes. His hair was perfectly black, and it was hard to guess how old he was. He was an interesting enough looking character, and there was a friendliness in his eyes as he looked at me that set me at ease. He bowed low to me as we approached.
“Welcome, my lady,” he said to me in a delightful British accent. Standing in front of me was a real-life British butler. Things were looking up. Or maybe I had officially cracked and this was my idea of things looking up. I wasn’t really able to tell. A numbness had settled over my veins and it felt like I was treading underwater, everything warped and distorted around me.
I forgot all about the butler and Charon when I stepped inside the cavernous front entryway. My mouth dropped open at the sight. The entryway was enormous, larger than my entire house. There were two sets of winding staircases that led up to the second story. Shiny obsidian colored marble covered the entire floor, and the walls were a light gray color. Apparently, the leader of this cult really enjoyed dark colors.
The air was cool and a bit musty, despite the fact that everything looked to be pristine without a speck of dust to be found. It somehow felt empty, like no one had lived here for a long time. Which couldn’t be true, since the butler was standing right here. And surely the cult people were around here somewhere.
After the journey I had just experienced, I was even more confused about what was going on. For a sacrifice, I sure was being treated well. I had kind of expected to be thrown into a dark cell until the crazies came to get me…but maybe that was still coming. Was this some kind of trick to get me to let my guard down? I remembered the stories we’d learned in school of the Mayan sacrifices. They’d thrown the virgins into active volcanoes in an effort to appease the gods and bring a good harvest to their fields.
I didn’t want to be thrown into a volcano.
Another hysterical giggle squeaked out of me and the butler silently raised an eyebrow. I nervously shrugged my shoulders and he nodded once before schooling his face into a blank canvas once more.
The butler took my trunk and began to ascend the stairs like the weight of it was nothing. Evidently he expected me to follow him. The staircase seemed to go on forever, and I realized that I was probably going to get in really good shape if I was here for long. We began to walk down a hallway that stretched on and on. The lighting was dim, and as I looked closer at the lamps on the wall, I realized that they were actually candles, not lightbulbs lighting the way. I prayed that they had electricity in some of the rooms…and plumbing. If I was going to die, I at least wanted to be able to watch some episodes of The Office before I did so.
We finally stopped at the last door in the hallway. The butler pulled a keyring out of his pocket, that was loaded with what looked like at least fifty keys, and unlocked the door.
“This suite has been specially prepared for you,” he said, the only words he’d spoken on the entire trip up here. But I wasn’t really listening, I was too busy admiring the room we had just stepped in. While the rest of the house had been old-world glamour, this one looked like someone had studied the inside of my brain and come up with precisely what I would pick as my dream room. The bed was huge and covered with a fluffy white comforter that had an explosion of colorful pillows on top of it. The floor was a gleaming dark wood, made homier by an assortment of colorful rugs that matched the pillows perfectly. Along one wall there was a floor to ceiling bookcase that was filled to the brim with books. Gasping a little, I walked over, skimming over the titles. Along with some of my favorites, there were hundreds of books that were on my Amazon wish list, along with a host of first editions that were probably worth more than the house I had grown up in.
Dragging my gaze from the bookshelf, I spotted a window seat with a white padded cushion and an assortment of the same pillows as on the bed. There was an enormous flat screen television on the wall, and I gasped in delight when the butler pressed a button on the wall and a shelf appeared in the wall filled with hundreds of movies. I didn’t mention that they could probably save a lot of space if they switched to digital. I wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth like that.
As I wandered around the room, oohing and ahhing at everything, I felt a little like a frog that had been put into cold water. Everything in this room was designed to make me feel comfortable… even grateful for being here. But at some point the heat was going to be slowly turned up until I was boiled alive, I just knew it.
The butler opened another door in the room, revealing a full en suite bathroom with a tub that could fit ten people and a shower that had four showerheads. Another door led to a full living room complete with a TV that took up the entire wall and several comfortable looking white leather couches set up in front of it.
It was all incredible. And now I was even more confused.
I stood in the middle of the room, my gaze darting from one fabulous thing to another.
“There’s one more thing,” the butler said before pulling on the full-length mirror on the wall to reveal a gigantic closet that was filled to the brim with clothes. I hesitantly walked into the closet, wondering if this was filled with the last sacrifice’s clothes. But when I looked at some of the sizes, I realized that everything would fit me perfectly.
Whoever had designed the room knew everything about me, right down to my bra size.
“I will have one of the maids bring you up some food while you relax. I’m sure that it was a trying journ
ey,” he said as he walked to the main door to let himself out.
“Wait, I still don’t know your name,” I cried, panicking for some reason at the thought of being alone.
He turned and gave me a small, weird bow. “Cerberus, my lady,” he said. “And we are all quite glad that you are here.”
With that, he left the room.
4
Elena
Despite my long nap on the airplane, I fell asleep on the floor as soon as he left, my dreams filled with images of strange three-headed dogs and a skeletal ferryman who rowed my soul across a dark river. I didn’t wake up until there was a knock on the door.
“Come in,” I said in a groggy voice, standing up from the floor wearily. The door cracked open, and a young freckle-faced kid who looked like he could only be around twelve or thirteen peeked his head in.
“I’ve got your breakfast,” he said in a cheerful voice as if he wasn’t talking to someone who had just gotten abducted and appeared in his home. He was probably a son of one of the cult members. Fear crept down my spine again as I wondered what exactly was in store for me. It wasn’t going to be anything good, I was sure of that.
“You can bring it in,” I said, striding over to my bed and warily watching him walk in the door. He carried a tray full of delicious smelling food. The smell reminded me once again that I hadn’t eaten in almost twenty-four hours.
“Do you need anything else, my lady?” he asked after he had shyly set the tray down next to me. He looked around the room happily. “Do you like your room? Master had us working night and day to prepare it for your arrival,” he said.
Master. That was the first I’d heard of him. Was that the name the cult leader required everyone to call him? If he thought I was just going to blindly fall in line, he had another thing coming. The word “master” was never going to pass my lips.