Page 83 of Hostile Saint

My throat tightened. “I know I’m lucky to be alive.” My breathing became strained. “I’m lucky she is alive.” My choice. How I react is my choice. I took a deep breath to calm myself again. “My older eyes can now comprehend those men were worshiping a source most don’t want to tangle with.”

Dagger grimaced. “Devil shit?”

I thought about the blankets sprawled around a huge fire pit that had a metal pole in the flames. On top of the tall rod rested a large horned animal skull that had dried blood on it from the ‘offerings’. “Most of the kids died. It was part of their rituals.”

As if my next words were going to physically wound him, Lynx leaned away from me and carefully asked, “The kids were sacrifices?”

On every blanket was a drug-dazed child. Naked. Near them were empty cups and empty wine glasses, half-eaten chunks of bread, and slightly intoxicated robed men on their knees. “They were sacrificed, but not in the way you may be thinking. It was more as if they were being used for their young essence. The things that were said and done tell me these men believed that we—the children—were vessels for acquiring certain levels of energy.”

Dagger’s head twisted so that his unpatched eye could barely see me as he glared. “Why is the hair on my arms standing?”

“Probably because all this went beyond what pedophiles do. In fact, the sex wasn’t truly about sex. It was men trying to celebrate their godly status. They believed they were worthy of connecting with a power that churches despise.”

Lynx growled, “What the fuck do the kids have to do with that bullshit?”

“That’s just it. They didn’t see kids. They saw vessels. They saw youth that had power they wished to harness and use for their own benefit. The chase—the possession of the vessel—was a claim, in a sense. After that came the connection to the vessel.”

Dagger shook his head. “I don’t want to know, but…” He waved for me to continue.

“Even with being drugged by the bread, their fluid,” my stomach soured, remembering the warm liquid, “was… still terrible. They would chant about a part of them now being in us as they forced us to drink their urine.”

“The. Fuck?”

“It was preparation to properly use the vessel and tap into the dark source they wanted contact with.”

Sensing what was coming, both men hissed.

As if back at that fire, I saw drugged expressions of fear on little faces. “Then it progressed. The next stage of the ritual was even more traumatic.” I heard all the men chanting in a language that didn’t sound human-like. “During sexual acts, the closer we were to death, the closer the men felt they were to tapping into the source.” In memory, I could feel myself choking for air… “Asphyxiation. We were suffocated then resuscitated, over and over, while our bodies were being used.” My heart ached. “Most of the kids finally succumbed.” I wish I had been older so I could’ve helped them.

I didn’t even know I had said that last part out loud until Lynx assured me, “You’re older now. You’re not powerless anymore.”

In dismay, Dagger asked, “What happened to the poor dead kids?”

“They buried them.”

His shoulders sagged. “Oh, thank God. It was over.”

That wasn’t the case, so I didn’t lead him astray with the sweet notion.

Noting my silence, he gulped. “Or maybe not.”

Starting to feel extremely drained, I explained, “They were buried, but… after a short amount of time, they were dug back up.”

Both men leaned away again, mumbling things like, “No,” and “Please don’t say what I think you’re going to say.”

Feeling dead inside, I said, “Fresh corpses gave the strongest energy. So, they repeated the rapes—”

Two sets of hands were raised, begging me to stop.

I was ready to shut down the memories, too, so I went quiet and spared them the gruesome details of the closing acts to the ritual’s end.

Grabbing his pack of cigarettes from the coffee table, Lynx stood. “Fresh air, anyone?”

In need of movement, I stood, gesturing to his hand. “Don’t those defeat the whole point of fresh air?”

He walked toward the sliding door. “Fuck off, Pup.”

Dagger followed him. “Yeah, I second that.” Then, while walking outside, he mumbled, “Layin’ that shit on me and thinkin’ nicotine won’t be needed?”