Taken: Original Sin Book 1

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Taken: Original Sin Book 1 Page 8

by Hart, Stella


  I sat there, stunned. Why didn’t Elena come to me? Why didn’t she tell me she was suffering so much? I could have helped her. I could have taken her to the Healer. I could have stopped her from spreading what I now knew were the Devil’s tempting lies.

  No wonder it all sounded so good last night. So right. That was how he wormed his way into people’s minds, especially the weak minds of girls. It was insidious. Pure evil.

  Poor Elena…

  “We must praise Elena for doing the right thing in the end!” my father called out, slamming his hand on the pulpit. “She knew she had to remove herself from this Earth in order to protect the rest of you. While we are all saddened by this, we must also rejoice in the knowledge that she has made it to heaven with Him by virtue of her selfless act. So say it out loud with me: thank you, Elena!”

  Bile crept up my throat and into my mouth as nausea washed over me. “Thank you, Elena,” I murmured along with the others.

  Even though it made me feel sick to my stomach, I knew my father was right. If Elena had stayed here any longer, she might have infected us with the wicked lies the Devil planted on her tongue.

  She almost succeeded last night. I’d actually seriously considered what she said about the airplane and all the rest. Now I knew better. I was simply weak. I should’ve known that already, given how many times I’d succumbed to sin in recent days.

  I clasped my hands together and prayed softly. “I am sorry for ever listening to such lies. Please forgive me, and please keep Elena warm and safe in your arms up there.”

  Elder Landry had begun passing the note around by now, and it finally made its way to me and Lauren. We held onto it together as we looked at it for a moment. Then I met Lauren’s big brown eyes and nodded. It was definitely Elena’s handwriting.

  Another tear slid down my cheek. I brushed it away, furiously fighting the rest of them as they threatened to spill out.

  “Now, young ladies,” my father called out. “We know you went up to the old church last night to listen to Elena. We forgive you for this. You must’ve been very curious, and the things she said were surely tempting. But you know now that it was blasphemy. The evil words of an insane woman whose mind had been rotted by the Devil himself. You would do well to forget everything she told you, unless you want to follow in her footsteps.”

  I frowned, wondering how the men knew we went to the old church last night. Someone must’ve told them.

  I glanced around at the other women. My eyes finally came to rest on Martha, and they narrowed as I stared at her. She was pale, her curly hair looked frizzy and unkempt, and her eyes were wide and glistening with tears. I knew it was an act.

  My father read us some passages from His Word, and then he dismissed us so that we could make breakfast for the men and begin the rest of our daily tasks.

  With a lump in my throat and a heavy feeling in my chest, I stepped out of the church and turned left so I could go to the nursery room. Today’s task for me was to help with the babies and young children. Lauren caught my arm and said a choked goodbye before heading in the opposite direction for the washing room, where she would spend the day scrubbing clothes.

  A moment later, someone else touched my arm. I turned to see my father. He smiled down at me. “Before you begin your work, I would like to speak with you, my little lamb,” he said.

  I nodded and followed him into his private quarters. I knew he spent most of his days (and many evenings too) up in the mansion above ground, but he still had a large room in the shelter to stay in if he wanted to.

  “Sit down,” he said, patting a quilted chaise sofa. “Firstly, I wanted to say how sorry I am for your loss. I know Elena was one of your best friends.”

  “Thank you, Father,” I mumbled.

  He was quiet for a moment. Then he leaned over and patted my arm. “Do you remember the outsider who came here yesterday?”

  “Yes.”

  “I wasn’t sure if you recognized him when you saw him in the Museum of the Damned, but his name is Mason Ashwood, and you’ve actually met him before.”

  “Really?” I asked, hoping he wouldn’t realize I already knew that. My voice came out in a suspicious squeak.

  “Yes, many years ago. In the old days. I did some business with his family.”

  “Oh, I see. I think I might remember him now. I’m glad he survived the Great Reckoning.” I swallowed hard.

  “Yes, it’s very fortunate. Anyway, I thought he might seem familiar to you, and that’s why I wanted to tell you exactly who he is. Just so you aren’t confused when he returns.”

  My eyes shot up to meet his. “He is returning?”

  “Possibly,” Father said. “We can’t let any old survivors into New Eden, as you know. Most of them are contaminated from the Wastelands, so they must be quarantined and subjected to a great deal of tests before they can be allowed to live amongst us.”

  “So you will test Mason?”

  “Yes. If he proves a good fit for our commune, he will come to live with us. If not, he will have to return to where he has been living. I have a good feeling about him, though. He seems healthy, and he seems extremely devout as well.”

  “That is...” I paused and swallowed hard again. “It’s exciting news. It’s always nice to have new arrivals.”

  “Yes.” He stood up and motioned for me to do the same. “Anyway, run along now, my little lamb.”

  As I headed out of his quarters, a heavy sense of shame filtered through my body. My best friend had just died. I should be completely and utterly devastated, but a tiny part of my mind was actually excited instead because of what my father just told me.

  I couldn’t help it, though. I wanted Elena to be with us again, more than anything, but the thing I wanted second-most in the world was for Mason to come and live here. I was drawn so strongly to him yesterday, like some sort of otherworldly force was pulling me toward him, and that made me think our God was sending me a message about him.

  If he came to live at New Eden, there was a small chance he would become my husband in the spring weddings instead of Danny Miller. If that happened, he could punish me for my sinful ways. Punish me like I so deeply craved and deserved.

  I’d never needed anything more.

  7

  Mason

  “Seal the deal yet?”

  I wiped a bead of sweat from my forehead and rolled my eyes at Thad’s question. “No.”

  He chuckled. It came out as a slightly tinny sound due to my cell phone’s shitty reception in Amiens. “I guess you’ve only been out there for three days. I’d be shocked if you even got into the commune by now, let alone anything else.”

  “Oh, I got in. I’m just not there right now,” I said.

  “Wait… seriously? You actually got into the fucking commune?”

  “Yup. To visit for a few hours, that is,” I replied, fiddling with the air-conditioner on the motel wall. Fucking thing broke last night, and now it was barely blowing any air at all. The temperature outside was already eighty-five degrees, and it was barely nine in the morning. Late fall, my ass. There had to be some sort of heatwave going on right now.

  Thad let out a low whistle. “I won’t even ask how you pulled that shit off, but color me impressed,” he said. “You must really want to win this bet, huh?”

  I frowned. “Honestly, it’s not about that anymore. We both know a million bucks is pocket change to either one of us.”

  “True. Don’t go saying that too loudly around regular people, though,” he said. “So anyway, what’s going on?”

  I rubbed my temples. “There’s something fucked up happening out at New Eden. I don’t know the exact details yet, but I know there’s something.”

  “Fucked up how?”

  I briefly outlined the things I’d seen and experienced while I was down in the shelter the other night when I went to visit the commune.

  “Wait, it’s underground? In Louisiana?” was Thad’s first response.

  �
�Yep.”

  “Christ, I never would’ve expected that. I didn’t even know it was possible to have underground shit there.”

  “I think that’s what they’re banking on. If anyone goes there and notices there aren’t any women around, they’ll just assume they’re inside a building somewhere. They’re never gonna think ‘hey, maybe there’s a huge underground lair here’, because who the hell would ever think that in the Deep South?”

  “Right. Well, if you think they’re so fucked up, why don’t you call the cops to go there and check them out?” Thad asked.

  “I thought of that. Then I realized I don’t have any solid proof. Like, for all I know, Jolie was just messing with me when she said all that shit about the apocalypse or whatever.”

  “Yeah. Maybe.”

  “I don’t think so, though. She seemed serious, and the way they won’t let women outside or let them use electricity kinda makes the men’s general attitude toward them quite obvious. But like I said: no real proof. They’ve had a few visitors out there over the years from the government to check things out, and they’ve always passed those inspections. They’re good at covering their asses when they need to.”

  “So what are you gonna do to get this solid proof? And why you?”

  I frowned as Jolie’s gorgeous face popped into my mind’s eye for what seemed like the millionth time in the last few days. “I guess I just feel like I have to do something. I can’t explain it,” I said. “As for what I’m going to do… well, I asked to join.”

  There was a spluttering sound on the other end of the phone line. Thad must’ve accidentally spat his drink out or swallowed it the wrong way. “You can’t be fucking serious,” he finally said. “You’re joining them? Those fucking crazy cultists?”

  “Yup. That way I can actually find out what’s happening there and get real evidence.”

  “You’re nuts, man. You can’t just infiltrate a place like New Eden.”

  “I can, as long as they trust me. I’ve already taken steps to make them start doing exactly that.”

  “Right.” He still sounded suspicious.

  “I’m serious.”

  “Okay. So how does that work?” he asked. “I had no idea anyone could go out there and join them. I thought it was super-exclusive.”

  “Chastain told me they take on new members sometimes. It’s just very rare. Anyway, when I asked him to let me join, he said there’s a few stages of application. First, he and the Elders get together and discuss whether you’re even worth an interview. That’s what they’ve been doing over the last three days while I’ve been holed up in this shitty motel in Amiens.”

  “What happens after that? The interview, I presume?”

  “No. Before that, you have to make a non-refundable donation of two hundred and fifty grand.”

  “Holy shit. I guess that’s how they weed out the non-serious applicants, right?”

  “Yup.”

  If someone decided to try and infiltrate a cult simply for fun, they’d never pay a quarter of a million dollars to the group with the knowledge that they’d never get it back even if they didn’t make it in. Only serious candidates would be willing to part with such a steep sum of cash.

  “After the donation, you go in for an interview at the mansion. Apparently they ask hundreds of questions to try and get a feel for your character. I have no idea what they ask or what they want to hear, but I’m guessing they want to find guys just like them. So as long as I make it sound like I hate women and think they’re pathetic and inferior, I’m guessing I should have a fighting chance.”

  Thad snorted. “Jesus, that’s messed up,” he muttered. “So what comes after that?”

  “They ask for the candidate to return to their usual home for a couple of months while they consider the application.”

  “Bet you another million bucks they send someone to spy on you during that time.”

  “Agreed. They act like it’s time for you to reflect on whether you really want to join, but I suspect they have someone watching to see if you’re really who you say you are.”

  “So you’ll have to start acting like you actually attend a church.”

  “Among other things.”

  He snickered. “I can’t wait to see that. Anyway, are you in after that?”

  “Not quite. If you’re still deemed a suitable candidate after the interview and the period of reflection, you’re allowed to go and do a trial run at the commune for a couple of months. It’s so you can show them you’re really serious about your conversion to their doctrines.”

  “And that’s when you’d finally see how they really live, right? Learn all their secrets and so on?”

  “I assume so. Once you pass that trial, you’re officially in.”

  “What if a new member doesn’t pass the conversion trial? Or what if they simply don’t like it and want to leave, even if they do pass?”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I have no idea. Chastain told me all the new members they’ve taken on in the past decided to stay. None of them ever wanted to leave.”

  “Guess it’s not too bad out there, then.”

  I snorted derisively. “For the men, sure.”

  Thad was quiet for a moment. “Just be careful with all this shit, okay? Cults can be fucking dangerous.”

  “I know. I’ll be careful.”

  He yawned loudly. “Sorry, man. I’ve gotta go. I’m falling asleep.”

  “It’s fucking nine a.m.”

  “I know. I was up all night with some chicks from the Dollhouse.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Is that the new strip joint downtown?”

  “Yup. Anyway, I’ll call you another time and see how things are going.”

  We ended the call, and then I showered and dressed properly for the day. I was due out at the New Eden mansion at ten o’clock for my interview. I’d already made the donation Chastain asked for (instead of buying the land I initially claimed to be interested in), and he’d called me last night to inform me that the other Elders had agreed to grant me an interview.

  While I waited to hear from them over the last couple of days, I’d been reading up on cults and their methods of indoctrination. The Path of the Covenant was different from many other cult-like groups in that they didn’t actively evangelize or try to recruit, but a lot of their techniques for gaining and keeping members would probably be similar. At least I could safely assume that was the case.

  One of the first things cults did to gain the interest of new prospects was a trick that involved dangling a ‘prize’ in front of them. This prize could be anything like great wealth, answers to the world’s mysteries, cures for diseases, or the key to happiness. The cult would act like they had this prize, which just so happened to be exactly what the prospect wanted or needed. All the prospect had to do to have a chance to access it was agree they wanted that prize and would do anything to get it. After that, a cycle of control, guilt, manipulation, and fear would begin in order to keep the new member sucked in.

  In this case, Chastain’s so-called ‘church’ seemed to offer a new way of life to men who wanted to assert complete dominance and control over women. For men like that, who genuinely thought of women as inferior, a place like New Eden would seem like paradise. There, women were seemingly raised to believe they were truly inferior in every single way, and the men could probably do almost anything they wanted to them. That was the ‘prize’.

  Of course, this was all my speculation based on the few things I’d seen so far. I couldn’t be sure about any of it until I’d made it to the two month trial run and actually begun to live amongst the other members.

  I fully intended to make it there. I just had to get through today without raising any suspicions.

  Forty minutes later, I was heading down Chastain’s oak-lined driveway, heart pumping rapidly. Like I said to Thad, I had no idea what sort of questions the Elders would have for me during this interview. I just had to play it by ear and hope I said the rig
ht things to make them think I was like them.

  Jacob came and met me at the front of the mansion like he did last time, flashing a big old white smile at me again. He led me upstairs and into a large room with a semi-circular polished oak table. Behind it sat twelve men, with an empty spot somewhere near the center for him. Most of the other men were middle-aged, but some were even older.

  “You already met this friend of mine at dinner the other night, but just to reiterate: this is Mason Ashwood, the son of my old business associate,” Jacob said, holding a hand out toward me. Then he pointed to each Elder in turn. “Mason, this is Elder Thibodeaux, Landry, Schmidt, Weisz, Miller, Moreau, Fontenot, Erikson, Albert, Bertrand, DuVernay, and Chase.”

  I nodded respectfully and sat down on a chair across from the table. Jacob took his seat too, clasping his hands in front of him.

  “Mason, we get quite a few interested men every year, but the vast majority don’t make it past this interview stage,” he began. “It’s very important to us that prospective members share our values and interests. Unfortunately most do not.”

  Yeah, because your values and interests include human rights violations such as refusing to educate girls and women properly whilst keeping them trapped in what essentially amounts to an underground prison, I thought, trying my best to ensure my face displayed a neutral expression.

  “It’s also important that any new member can be trusted implicitly.”

  Translation: We have to make sure new members won’t run off and expose us to the world once they knew what we do, seeing as it’s quite frowned upon to keep women trapped underground.

 

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