Tick tock.
Tick tock.
TICK TOCK.
I heard the ruffle of his pastoral robes. “Send him to Alaric,” he ordered. “They both need to be punished.”
Alaric was with the secondary Pastor.
The orderlies released my head, jerked my pants up and then forced me to a stand. Everything was sore, screaming in pain, but it was nothing compared to the detached rage I felt burning in the pit of my stomach. I needed blood, and these…these…insolentsheep were too scared of me to let me walk on my own. They knew the carnage I could do to them for I had already proved myself this morning when the first orderly thought he could get away with raping me in my room.
They had me memorize their precious Bible, confess my sins, ask for forgiveness, yet look at them. Sinners, all of them.
The two orderlies dragged me down the hall to the fighting room. They shoved the door open and threw me to the ground painfully.
I landed on my hands and knees, the pain nothing compared to what was burning deep within me. They thought they were nurturing my belief in their god when in reality they were nurturing something far more sinister.
The laughter bubbled up from that sinister place. It sounded disjointed and sharp.
The smile that grew felt the same. Evil incarnate.
I turned to them, sitting on my ass, unable to stop, and watched as their faces went from angry and irritated to fearful.
“What is he doing?” Rick asked.
“Stop that,” Bobby ordered. “Stop it!”
But I couldn’t.
I couldn’t stop.
Didn’t they understand what they had done?
A lifetime in this place.
An eternity.
I had become the very thing they were trying to cleanse the world of, cleansemeof; Darkness.
They thought I was something to be purified before, but now? My soul was blacker than Hell itself.
“Where is Alaric?” Rick demanded, stepping into the hall. “Move,” he ordered Bobby.
Alaric must have been close.
Two seconds later and two more orderlies appeared, tossing Alaric in beside me.
He looked over, taking me in, confusion and then realization and hatred crossing his features.
“What’s wrong with him?” one of his orderlies asked.
“He snapped,” Bobby answered. “Give me your knife.”
He hesitated. “They’re not allowed to have weapons.”
“I don’t care, look at him,” he snarled, gesturing to me. “Give it to Alaric. He needs something extra today.”
I heard the knife skitter across the floor, sliding right to Alaric.
