The Sect

by Lane, Courtney

  “Take, for example, our newest recruit.” My picture flashed on the screen and my heart dropped out of my chest. “Keaton Mara, daughter of Sherilynn and Arthur Mara. This is a woman who came from privilege—a woman who shunned it all because she couldn’t handle the repressed world. She is a conundrum. She has the mentality of a repressed individual and lived in the proverbial kingdom that many of you do. She is a very special woman, and today you will all witness her initiation in a different way than you have before. Tonight you will all witness her rebirth.”

  The spotlight shone on me, blinding me. I was marched up to the stage and forced to stand alongside Reven. My eyes adjusted to the light, taking in the scene of many men and women, dressed in an array of dark colors. Most were middle-aged with a sprinkling of a few young men and women. They leered at me as they sipped on whatever was inside their tumblers. Some suggestively grazed their hands over their crotches.

  I immediately tried to run, but was halted when Noah grabbed me from behind.

  I didn’t give up my fight. I screamed and kicked, using everything I had to escape.

  Noah’s grip firmed, forcing me over to the sawhorse newly brought to the stage by one of Reven’s nameless men. He ripped off my dress and bent me over despite my fight and tied each of my limbs to the legs of the bench. I was forced on tiptoes, my weight unbalanced and painfully rested on the leather bench.

  “First, I’m going to soften you up,” Noah sneered. “Shouldn’t be a problem since you obviously have a very hard ass, don’t you, princess?” He retrieved my most hated weapon, a cane.

  Weakness took hold as did pain. I couldn’t cope as I usually did because with every hit, I tried to make sense of it. I wanted to cling to Noah as an adversary, his words and actions sometimes said that he could be. Turn after turn, I was proven wrong. No longer sure of what to think and unable to grasp onto happier thoughts that became harder and harder to remember, I felt every single hit.

  Energy I barely had was expended to remain conscious. I gave them no fight when I was untied and directed into another bound position. My legs were bound with my knees tucked under and my legs spread. My arms were tied behind my back from my elbow to my wrists. My bra and panties were cut away, and I was forced to kneel in the nude while facing the screen in front of me.

  A large rope scraped against the back of my head, tugging at my restraints and making me feel the pressure and helplessness of my position. I looked over my shoulder, noticing the rope extended up to the ceiling into a darkly shadowed area.

  “Do you know why your rebirth is going to set a precedence? Because you, Keaton, are a very disobedient, infuriating individual.” Reven’s voice loomed around the room, no longer amplified by the head mic he’d worn. He stood directly in front of me, staring down at me with contempt. “It’s a simple concept. If you please me, your life here becomes paradise. Don’t you want my affection? Don’t you want paradise?”

  I started to laugh, low and soft from my belly. Every little tremble ensured I felt the pain Noah had given me. Nevertheless, the laughter was unbearably hard to stop for one reason alone; he couldn’t have been serious. Many would’ve called me an idiot for walking away from what I had. If he wanted for nothing, neither did I. I left it all because it became pointless. No matter what amount of money or love my parents provided me with, they couldn’t save me from a monster.

  As he stepped closer, his hazel eyes bore through me as though I was transparent.

  “You should’ve taken someone else if you wanted someone eager for your version of paradise,” I snarled. “I don’t want it. I don’t want anything to do with you and your crazy sex cult. You think you can see through me? You can’t. I can see right through you, Reven. You know why? I looked into the eyes of the devil, and he was much scarier than you.” I laughed again and couldn’t stop it. The fit hit me hard and I found it easy to fall into insanity.

  He moved around my body, grabbed a fistful of the back of my hair, and tugged, jerking my chin up. From his position over me, he gave a look to the crowd—a nod of acknowledgment as if my actions proved the things he said about me. A picture appeared across the screen. A picture I avoided viewing. “Negating your need to constantly trounce upon every sliver of forgiveness I grant you, you want what you claim you don’t.”

  With tears streaming down my cheeks, I shook my head.

  That taps of his shoes pounded hard against the stage, echoing with a head-thumping volume as he walked behind me. The rope began to creak, changing the position of my body. As it loosened at my back, it released my legs from my tucked position, forcing them to straighten and widen as I was lifted. The direction of the rope changed, revealing that I was bound by more than one rope tethered from the ceiling; I was also bound to the walls on either side of the stage.

  Suspended in the air, my legs were sprawled out into a near split. My arms hung down against my spine in an agony inducing position. The rope binding me burned my skin, ensuring I couldn’t move a single limb. When I tried to elongate my neck, the searing pain of the rope tightening around my neck made me whimper.

  He pointed to the screen, viewing it with a skewed smile. “The D.C. area experienced a record-breaking winter in January. Shelters are overrun and so many of the lost souls calling the streets their homes have froze to death.”

  January? I was taken in October. Had I been gone that long? My lip began to quiver as my sobs resounded in the air.

  “It’s a shame how forgotten they are. When they die, no one is left to claim them, and their remains are burned. Their ashes are placed in a small cardboard box and placed on a shelf. Forgotten.” He lifted my chin in an attempt to force me to view the picture on the screen. “No one came to claim Lieutenant Colonel Jeffrey Clark. A well-decorated man who survived Vietnam. He was supposed to be buried at Quantico; yet, he remains on a shelf, forgotten.”

  The man who protected me for months and taught me how to survive was honest with me. The only person who showed me his vulnerability and truly took care of me was gone. “Stop,” I sobbed.

  “Look at his picture. See how he froze to death. See what could’ve happened to you.” He sloped forward allowing his breath to batter at my lips. “Look at his picture,” he said again, his voice commanding.

  Blinking through the tears, I lifted my eyes to view the screen. I saw the picture of Jeff; grey, dead, and frozen. Closing my eyes, I cried at an intemperate rate.

  He grabbed my chin, forcing me to watch the screen as horrid pictures of my fiancé with a bullet wound in his head, lying in a pool of his own blood, were shown. Next, a picture of his little sister appeared, barely recognizable from the 12-gauge shotgun wound to her head. “Not even the most skilled mortician could’ve made them some semblance of what they once were.” He fingered the tear that ran down my cheek. “You take the blame for the death of Reese and Phoebe Morgana. At current, you blame yourself for Jeffrey’s death. You think they died because you were a coward.”

  Shutting my eyes, I cried harder; my body shook against my restraints.

  He brushed his lips against mine. His fingertips gently raked across my naked skin, skipping against the rope binding. “Don’t you want to be free from your own sins?”

  “No,” I sobbed.

  The pads of his fingers scraped against my naked sex, making me jolt in surprise. “Because I’m in an uncharacteristically forgiving mood, I am going to give you a taste of what your compliance could offer you.”

  “Please…don’t,” I cried, my voice broken and soft.

  Placing one hand over my mouth, he moved by body to turn toward the crowd. The rope creaked and swayed, turning with my new position.

  With Reven’s other hand, he gently ran the back of his hand against my labia. My body responded, quivering with want, dividing itself from what I wanted. His index finger slid up my slit, sliding back and forth, erecting a burn of desire between my thighs. He urged a finger gently inside. My core welcomed him, tightening and surrounding him w
ith my wetness. His breath released in an elongated way as his head tilted forward until his forehead met mine. His thumb ran circles around my clit, making it swell and harden against his touch.

  My entire body quivered, fighting between pain and the smallest hint of pleasure. My eyes searched the immediate area looking for Noah to stop it and do what he promised, but he was nowhere to be seen.

  Reven withdrew his fingers and spread my arousal on my lips. “That’s barely a taste of what I can make your body do. When you obey, and I claim what is mine…” Sucking in a wavering breath, he grabbed the back of my head roughly; he kissed me with a hungry need, tormenting me.

  He abruptly stopped, leaving me with a detestation so deep-rooted it reached beyond the mental.

  He walked to the metal table and retrieved a hunting knife. My eyes widened in alert. Fear I’d never felt before forced my body into a rigid state. Locking his gaze on my face, he gently reached behind my back. The cold, blunt end of metal chilled my spine. With a rip, the rope broke apart, releasing the bindings from my lower half. He continued cutting through knot after knot, releasing me rope by rope from the agonizing restraints. When my feet touched the ground, my legs lacked the ability to hold up my weight. He caught me, holding me upright. The closeness of my naked form against his fully clothed one left me vulnerable.

  “You’ve completed your initiation. Welcome to Rebirth, Keaton.” The audience announced their pleasure at the scene and clapped. It was a noise that worsened my pounding headache. Reven brushed his hand down the back of my head, his eyes holding to a gentleness he’d never displayed toward me before. “Do you see what I can give you if you worship me?” he whispered against my lips. “If you want to thrive, you will stop running from me. The meek, the obedient, and those who exalt me gain a permanent place at my side. Have I cleared up which path you should be on?”

  “Yes,” I answered, my voice soft and hoarse.

  “Tomorrow, you will begin the first in many final phases.” He left the stage, leaving me without a chance to question what he meant.

  THE PAST

  “I’m so frustrated. Ugh!” Phoebe threw her pencil across the kitchen and swept her arm across the table, sending her homework flying to the floor. She ran her hands through her brown, curly shoulder-length mane, leaving it in disarray.

  In the two years I had known her, her behavior seemed to worsen. She had to be the most impossible fourteen-year-old I’d ever encountered. We’d spent hours trying to do homework. Hours in which she spent most of her time on the phone, perusing social media, or using FaceTime to talk to her friends.

  I thumbed my throbbing temples, hoping to alleviate the ache. “But the formulas are all right here. I wrote them down for you. You just have to plug them in.”

  “I don’t get the point.” She fumed, her cheeks puffing out in anger. “When am I ever going to use this shit?”

  “Phebes!” Reese turned to chide her from his position at the kitchen counter. His sister’s language appalled him and disrupted him from making dinner for the three of us.

  My phone vibrated on the table for the twelfth time in an hour. Every time it did, Reese glared at it as if were a bomb, pending an explosion. “Why don’t you answer it?” he snapped, facing the window in the kitchen.

  I shrugged while knowing full well that he couldn’t see me.

  “Are you cheating on my brother?” Phoebe reached forward and grabbed my phone. “Is that why you two are such prudes? You’re giving your fish taco to someone else.”

  “Phoebe,” I protested, reaching for my phone and grasping air, “please give it back.”

  She giggled and crawled on top of the table, dodging me every time I tried to get her down, or better yet, grab my phone. Putting her hand on her hip, she used the other hand to explore what was on my phone. Her eyes flickered with mischief as she began to guffaw. “Why won’t you respond to me, you bitch? I’m going to stuff my cock in your pussy until it bleeds.” She cackled, covering her mouth. “Oh my God. Who is this guy? He’s so freaky.”

  I covered my face, sinking into the chair as I sobbed. My normally mild-mannered fiancé lost his patience. He grabbed his sister off the table, setting her down on the ground. Snatching my phone roughly from her grasp, he threw it across the room; it ricocheted and broke apart.

  Phoebe was ready to protest until Reese gave her a look he’d never given her before. His sister had free rein to do whatever she wanted to do without consequences. It didn’t matter how many times she called me a bitch or a whore. If Reese asked her to apologize, she would play on their parents’ deaths; in the end, Reese would forget all about the apology. Usually, he would appeal to me and make me apologize for what he thought was my impatience. Because I didn’t want to argue and thought someday I’d have a real relationship with her, I always complied.

  “Why haven’t you done anything, Keaton?” he scolded me, his eyes wide with fury.

  “What else am I supposed to do?” I sobbed. “Every time I try to get a restraining order, it’s rejected because they say I have no cause.”

  “Well that”—he pointed to the mess that used to be my cell phone on the floor—“can’t go on. It’s not just about your safety. What about Phoebe or my safety?”

  I looked up at him, blinking through my tears. “You don’t have to remind me. I know your sister is the center of your world. I would never do anything to hurt her.”

  “You sound bitter, Kitty,” she sneered, baiting me with a pet-name she had for me that she was very aware I hated. “I’m family, and you’re not. I’ll be here forever. You won’t. You’re just a cheating whore. My brother so deserves better.”

  “Phoebe, upstairs now!” Reese’s booming shout startled us both. His dark, tan skin tone had reddened in hue. His cheeks were engorged, ready to expel hot air.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” she protested, crossing her arms.

  I pushed up from my chair, ready to forget the conversation we were supposed to have tonight about taking a break for a while. It would be yet another night I spent at the local coffee shop; a place I constantly used to get away and clear my head. “Maybe…I should leave.”

  “Bye,” Phoebe urged me on with a smile.

  I was sick of her constantly belittling me and making me feel unworthy of her brother. Yet, he always pushed us together and never bothered to stand up for me. He was at best a very partial mediator. I’d never met someone with such a trashy vocabulary—and call me by every name in it. I’d been faithful to her brother and nothing short of nice to her, but it never mattered. It was never enough.

  The sound of the doorbell pulled us all to settle.

  “It’s probably Dennis,” Reese explained after an elongated pause. “He needed a case file.”

  Which meant he and Dennis would be occupied for hours. “It’s fine. I was going to go to the coffee shop anyway. It’ll give you some time alone with him.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said, appearing completely unapologetic. Shaking his head, he gave Phoebe a pointed glance and headed for the door.

  “You’re going to break up, you know,” Phoebe said to me with a smile.

  My lips parted, ready to finally get to the bottom of her problem, but a loud bang made us jump out of our skin.

  Panic spread on Phoebe’s face. “Reese?” Timidly, she walked forward. She stopped just behind the threshold to the dining room.

  “Phoebe. Don’t.” I reached out for her, grabbing her arm back. “We need to go now.”

  “Get off me, bitch,” she snapped at me, hitting me and scratching my arm until I released her.

  A monster rounded the corner with a shotgun in hand. His sweater and face were splattered with blood. His brown eyes were cold and a cruel smirk pressed across his lips. “I told you I would come for you, angel. You shouldn’t have ignored me. Now I’m going to remove the worthless people who are standing in the middle of our happiness.” He reloaded, staring straight at me, but pointed the shotgun at Phoebe. She s
eemed frozen in place, unable to move as she stared down the barrel. Shutting my eyes, I swiftly walked backward.

  On the cusp of the sound of a shotgun going off, I scurried out of the backdoor. I ran around the house and bumped into a hard, large form that sent me flying backward. I skidded across the concrete, the ground burned with friction against the backs of my exposed legs.

  I peered up at the shadowed figure through tears. I didn’t know the man, but he looked daunting just the same. He glanced up at the house, shaking his head.

  “Go,” he told me, stepping aside. “I won’t tell him that I saw you.”

  I didn’t take a second to ask questions and I did just that.

  Never looking back, I ran, hoping that if I ran fast and far, the nightmare would end and I would wake up to a better reality.

  IN THE morning, Nadine met me in my bedroom, dressed in her usual white dress. She took me into the bathroom and set out my makeup for me. “You’re going to have to do something about the puffiness”—she gestured around my eyes—“because it looks like you’ve been crying all night.” She pulled out a curling iron from the drawer of the vanity and placed it on the surface. “Get dressed and I’ll walk you to the theater and show you where and what you’re supposed to do.” She made strides toward the door, stopping when her hand gripped the handle. “Don’t make any more trouble; just do what you’re told.”

  I looked at her through the mirror’s reflection, keeping my face even. I was very tired of being told to submit to Reven’s every whim. The belief that there was a way out had almost ignited the glimmer of hope in my mind, reviving it.