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Orders have changed, I see.
Reaching the long, dark wooden table, I gently place her down. Her body is still limp, so once she's laid down, I adjust her arms to lay flat next to her and straighten her bare legs.
“I see you dressed her up like you too?”
His question is rhetorical. But that doesn’t stop me, “Naturally.”
“The dagger?”
“The one I used on her mom. Only fitting to use it on her as well.”
“Good job. The Dark One will reward you for this.” His voice promises, even though I know it’s false.
Not moving from her side, I await his next move.
Lowering my bat from under my arm, I grip it tightly in my hand, ready to use.
He turns to face her, raising his hands to her mask. Gripping it at the bottom, he slowly removes it from her face, sliding it up until the strap under her head is freed.
Her eyes are closed, lashes resting on her face as her breath is slow but even. The face cracks are still perfectly in place—my little broken doll, my little bat. So beautiful laying before me.
Her father drops the white rabbit mask to the ground, the plastic makes the crinkling sound as it hits the ground. And for the first time, he sees her for who she is.
Mine.
“Is this your idea of being funny? Bringing her to me, your Master and The Dark One, dressed like this. Wearing this face paint with a fucking collar around her neck? She isn’t your fucking doll, boy.”
Curt in my response, “Am I laughing?”
“You were always fucking sick in the head. This, this is next fucking level from you, boy. To come here, embarrass me, the members of The Chapel like this. You should be fucking ashamed of yourself. And your mother will be punished for your insubordinate behavior.”
He threatens me, by using my mother, like it would have an effect on me.
No emotion comes to light with his words.
No panic or pleading for mercy.
My life only holds value for her, Rain.
Unamused by his antics, I step towards him, openly challenging him. A few gasps can be heard from behind me, but I pay them no attention. This isn’t for them. They are as filthy as he is.
“Can we get on with it, already?”
Clearing his throat, again with the fucking old man dramatics, “The Dark One spoke to us before you graced us with your presence. He has saved her. After enabling us with two La Notte del Diavolo this month, he has also gifted us with saving our Principessa Oscura. She will be mine by the end of the night.”
I don’t move.
He is waiting for it. Banking on it. But I let him carry on.
“In her place, The Dark One has requested your mother.”
Of course he did.
A gasp can be heard, my mother.
Smirking under my mask, this is fucking perfect. She was mine anyway. He hasn’t a fucking clue how perfectly this is going for me.
“Boy, wake her up. We have a ceremony and a sacrifice to perform.” His arms rise in the air as he elevates his voice with each word. His followers clap in unison. None of them try to stop this, which only solidifies my plan for later.
