Noah casts a worried glance at me, and I do believe he’s helping by distracting the Prophet from his rage, but in doing so, he’s also reminding him of the tasks ahead, and hastening the deaths of all the people who live here.
I might have run, and I might have wished never to see this cursed place again, but I don’t wish harm on people I used to live with and be close to.
“No!” I wriggle in my bonds but can’t get free, not even a little. “You can’t do this.” Even though it kills me to say it, I know I can’t let them all die, so I force the words out. “I’ll repent and I’ll stay, as your wife. If you stop this madness, I’ll be yours.”
The Prophet laughs, and it’s a dark, slithering sound that wraps itself around me, choking me.
“Oh, you’re going to be mine anyway, Ophelia. You won’t escape me again. You and your friend will be the ones to begin the ascension. From when I first saw you, I knew you’d lead the community to heaven.”
He’s contradicting himself to fit his agenda. Are whores even allowed to go to heaven?
I stare at him, hatred filling me with white hot energy. “Why don’tyougo first? You should lead the way.”
His eyes narrow. “I must go last.” He glances quickly at Noah. “I have to ensure that you all ascend safely, and then I can follow you at the very end.”
“How convenient.” I sneer. My fear of him is being slowly replaced by the dark, churning anger I’ve pushed deep down. “I mean, imagine if you decide not to ascend at all, and just start over in a new place.”
Why is he doing this now? There must be a reason, and I truly don’t think he’s going to go with them. He’s doing this to unburden himself of these people and this place, but why?
“What did you do?” I ask. “Have you done something with a local girl?”
He scoffs.
“Ripped off someone in power in a nearby town?”
No response is forthcoming, but his eye ticks, such a small muscle movement, but it tells me all I need to know.
“Noah, he’s going to kill you all and leave. Something has happened. He’s in trouble. Financial, I’d bet, and he can’t stay here, which means he either has to attempt to leave with all of you in tow, and admit he’s failed, or he can get rid of you all and slip away. To start all over again. Isn’t that right, Isiah Abram? If that’s even your real name.” I stare at him, challenging him for the first time in my life.
I’m terrified, my heart is hammering, but I am realizing something, too. It’s as if there are two wolves inside me—the one who fears him, and the one who hates him. The one who hates him is powerful and snarling, and I much prefer her to the cowering beast who fears him.
“You’ve become so obnoxious during your time away, my little one,” the Prophet says, “but you are wrong. I will, of course, ascend with my flock.”
“Your flock?” I let out the bitter laugh that’s welling inside me. “You are no shepherd.”
“Be quiet.”
He hits me again, and this time it really hurts. The metallic taste of blood coats my tongue. I must have bitten down on it or my cheek.
“Stop it,” Daisy whimpers from beside me. “Don’t do this, please.”
The Prophet swivels his head slowly to look down at her. “As for you, child. You’ve been so very bad. And you know what happens to bad girls?”
“No.” Her answer is a terrified whisper.
“They get to ascend first, or perhaps your path now is to descend into the fire. Either way, your judgement day is here.”
He walks away from us and toward a table to the side, which is filled with glass jugs of deep red liquid, and next to them rows of small cups. I have no doubt that the contents of those jugs is more than simple wine. It’s what he plans to use to put an end to his community. They will willingly drink his poison down.
Picking up a jug, he pours the red liquid into a cup with care. Then he carries the cup in both hands over to Daisy.
As he speaks, his voice grows louder, booming around the interior of the small church.
“Do you think you will ascend, Daisy? Even after your betrayal, do you believe you’ll still have a place beside God? Or will you go to hell, to await your final judgement in the lake of fire?”
Her head is still lolling forward so the Prophet turns to Noah. “Hold her head up.”
Noah looks extremely uncomfortable, and I can see the war raging within him. The cognitive dissonance simmers in his eyes as years of brainwashing slam up against the reality of taking this final step and helping murder people.
