THE ANOINTED 3: PROPHECIES OF FIRE (7 page)

“No, you have to give me another chance.”

“There is no second chances. I gave you one task and you failed.” There was silence as the shower started in the next room.

“You can either do what we agreed upon or I can go in there and kill your daughter slowly. Your choice.”

The man looked to be struggling with his thoughts. He didn’t want his deeds to go over to his only child.

“I will do it,” he finally said.

“Don’t make me wait.”

The man pulled the gun from under the table and looked at the barrel. Anais watched as he took the gun and quickly put it to his head and pulled the trigger. The man flew out the chair and laid in a puddle of spreading blood. The water in the shower had stopped and he went over to place an item on the body. He smiled.

Everything was going according to plan. He disappeared as the door was thrown opened and the man’s daughter came out screaming. He had just committed the sin that would sent his soul to hell. There was an echo of laughter amongst the screams.

BOOK TWO

MENDACIOUS TENTIONS

CHAPTER ONE

The plate of food made surprisingly little noise as it was slid underneath the bottom gap of the door.

The loud banging that followed was a shocking contrast that seemed to have an echoing quality to it. Samantha Cook squinted in the darkness as she squatted on the balls of her feet, while watching the shadows of the person depart. She had one continuous thought that infected her brain like a fever. A thought that chipped at her gut with each passing moment. One of escape.

She stared at the plate for minutes before wrinkling her nose up in disgust, even as she fought to control and dismiss the pinging’s and grumbling as her stomach disagreed with her decision, screaming for substance. With great effort, she tried to strengthen her resolve. But sadly, she was losing the battle as it felt as if it was cannibalizing itself for survival.

She had very good reason for fear. Ever since her uncle Andrew had ordered her to be brought here, she steadily refused to eat or drink anything that was given to her, for fear that it would be laced with hallucinogenic drugs perfected by intelligence agencies and given to captured operatives for the purpose of creating swirling delusions and nightmares to loosen their tongues for interrogators.

But here, there were bigger worries. Instead of drugs, it could very well be just a drop of tainted blood from any creature of the dark with designs to bend her will so they could start the process of trying to turn her, as her uncle had freely offered her. So, she refused to touch any food until someone eventually came and took the plates away.

They had to open the door to give her water and empty the bucket she had to use as a toilet. They also found the water untouched and removed it daily. They had not bothered to bring her any today. Through it all, she watched and waited for the slightest slip up by her jailers.

None were made. Yet.

Only her uncle knew just how resourceful she could be.
No, not my uncle anymore
, she thought with a shiver. Andrew had become something more twisted and sinister than she had ever thought possible. What had happened to the left side of his face attested to the abomination that had coursed through his veins ripping the humanity from his body?

She was cold from the thoughts, despite the two thick blankets she had wrapped around her. She had been in a state of nakedness ever since she had awoken hanging from the house rafters in steel chains. But that didn’t bother her half as much as being trapped in what amounted to a glorified storage cellar. The experience brought about a feeling of claustrophobia.

Small, empty, and dark with a thick steel plated door that was barred and locked from the outside. She could tell that the room had been used for something like this before. Anger was suddenly there, boiling within her with each thought. Once she found a way out, there would be a reckoning with those who had killed her men and kidnapped her. Especially that exotic looking puta that she’d promised to kill for molesting her. Oh yeah, that was definitely a promise she intended on keeping.

She didn’t have enough energy to maintain her anger however and she knew that to really achieve these goals, she would have to discard her reservations and eat something soon, or she would lose the energy to even move. That was not an option because when the time came, she needed everything she had to escape. Sighing, she pulled the blankets more closely around herself.

Many soldiers and spies trained for the event of capture, but no matter how much such situations are simulated, nothing except true experience could prepare someone’s mind for the feelings of disorientation, degradation, despair, and helplessness. But she had been lucky. There was something that she was holding on to, so she could drown out the ache of them all and that was an immense burning desire for vengeance.

Reluctantly, she straightened up out of her squat and shuffled over to the plate. The stone floor was cool on her feet. It shocked her how exhausted she felt from such a small task. Bending down, she picked up the hard plastic plate and brought it to her nose, as if she could detect the smell of any foreign substances. The food was almost cold, so no aroma drifted up but still her stomach cramped with the need at the very thought of food.

With no utensils in sight, she used her hands to pick up lumps of cold meat and took small hesitating bites, chewing slowly as she tested it. Unsure of what she was eating, she wanted to spit the meat back into the plate but the hunger over took her caution and soon, she found herself eating everything on the plate. When it was gone, she went over and banged on the door with the palm of her hand.

“Hey, bring me some water to drink in here! Are you still out there somewhere?!” she yelled, while continuing to slap the door until someone hit the door hard.

“What?!” came a growl.

“I need some water and I wouldn’t mind another plate of whatever this was.”

The voice started to mumble and she asked him to repeat himself.

“I said, what do you think this is? You’re a freakin’ prisoner demanding extra grub. Gimme back the plate.”

She did as she was told and slid the plate back under the door. “And bring some utensils back! I’m not an animal, for god sakes!”

The grumbling started to fade as whomever left. Minutes passed and she thought he wasn’t coming back until finally there was a sharp thud on the door before the voice returned.

“Go to the back of the room and don’t get any ideas or you’ll be sorry you did.”

She didn’t need to be told what to do, by now she had the routine procedure of the opening of the door branded into her brain. As she moved back halfway, she still hoped that whomever she had spoken to would be dumb enough to make that fatal mistake that would lead to her freedom. It was so real; she could taste it on her tongue like a solid substance.

When the door swung inwards, the bright light blinded her momentarily, causing her to put up a hand to shield her eyes. After her eyes adjusted, she saw something that gave her pause. Another man stood there, holding some type of rod in his hands. This was worrisome. This was something different.

The rod was some cattle prod she saw with growing dismay. If she tried to escape and was touched by it, it would incapacitate her, not to mention that she’d release her bodily functions almost immediately. The first man, she assumed this was the one she had spoken to, kicked a gallon of water across the floor to her in a milk jug, then squatted down to place a plate of food on the floor and slid it also, spilling some of it in the process. On top of the food was a plastic spoon.

The look of their crewcuts and their posture screamed ex-military and the thought of mercenaries came to her mind. Most of the guards of Gabriel were also ex-military and she knew how much they detested mercenaries. But in a world where soldiers were used and forgotten, these men had no such qualms about being branded as soldiers of fortune.

“Well, it seems that I’m labeled enough of a threat to warrant two has beens to guard me with such zeal.”

She saw the veins starting to bulge in the man’s neck as he stood up. “I would watch my words if I were you. We’re perfectfully capable of handling such a slip of a girl who they say leads men,” he finished with rough dismissive sounds.

“I would take your opinion into account if I thought you were a man yourself,” she replied.

“You play a very dangerous game girl.” He growled through bared teeth.

“Not so dangerous when I see an idiot that probably couldn’t cut it as a real soldier.”

The man actually took a few steps deeper into the room before the second guard called his name twice sharply. He turned his head slightly to the side to look at the man behind him, as if he hated the intrusion of what he had in mind.

“Jeff, our instructions were clear. She is not to be harmed, unless she tries to escape.”

“We could run with that, twist it in our favor.”

The guard with the cattle prod shook his head in disagreement.

“You’re fuckin’ nuts if you think I’m gonna stand in front of those monsters and risk them finding out that we’re lying because you allowed her to get into your head. Have you forgotten that there are cameras watching the outside of this room?”

Jeff scowled at the words and turned back to her with a smirk.

“It will be more than enough time to play after the boss is done with you, maybe I’ll impress him enough so that he’ll give you to me personally. How would you like that?”

“Please Jeffery, you probably couldn’t even get it up to “play’ as you say. I always found that pretend tough guys are the biggest pussies.”

Jeff started turning an alarming shade of red. “I’m gonna enjoy taking my time with you bitch,” he said, grabbing himself vulgarly. “Then we’ll see which one of us is the pussy.”

Samantha rolled her eyes dramatically. “Yeah, if you say so. But until that time comes, can you do me a favor and get the fuck out, so I can eat in peace?”

“Jesus,” said the guard with the cattle prod. “For a chick that’s part of a religious sect, you sure have the mouth of a sailor.”

Samantha shrugged. “Well, I guess I’m allergic to asshole,” she stated, gesturing at Jeff.

She could see Jeff’s jaw clinch in anger and at first she thought he would try to attack her, despite the boss’ instructions until he looked down at the plate he had brought her and kicked it over with a grin before turning with,

“This isn’t over bitch, not by a long shot,” he stated before slamming the door behind him.

Once again, darkness covered her and her eyes went through the transition of adjusting again. A small smile started to spread on her face. She was actually glad that Jeffery didn’t try to attack her, for she would have need of him in the future. They must’ve rotated their procedures so she couldn’t time an ambush.

Security cameras outside the door, cattle prods, instructions not to hurt her unless she tried to escape. And plus ol’ Jeffery had a serious inferior complex. There were always ways of gathering Intel from your captors. One way was to piss them the hell off. Which was always dangerous, but she would use everything she could to help her escape.

Feeling better somewhat, she opened the jug of water and quaffed. Once she dehydrated herself as much as she could, she squatted down to eat the food Jeff had kicked over. He had thought he had shown her her place with the asshole action, but he was wrong. When she made it out of here, Jeffery would be the first to die.

WASHINGTON, D.C.

Some say that pure unadulterated evil has many appearances, tricks, and lures. It had to be, for the average person with any morals to accept it whispers of promise. But humanity had ways of fooling itself into thinking that the atrocities of the world were unavoidable, due to others and not from their own deep dark suppressed primitivism that allowed it to exist at all. But of course, they were lying to themselves because to have light, there must also be a patch of darkness in one’s soul.

Andrew Knox, former tactical general of Vae Victis, thought over this philosophy as he studied his reflection of the skeletal side of his face that had been twisted and changed with his acceptance of Anais’s gift of blood. The mixture of Vae Victis bloodline with the darkness had produced a substance that burned like acid in his veins. But he would gladly welcome the pain forever, for the unbelievable power he was given.

For those who thought the decision for him to forsake and betray the very order he was birthed to protect was hard, then they had no idea of the darkness that lured inside of him. Plenty of good people had died because of his actions and the thought produced a smile that spread on his face.

The self-righteous bastards were a weak and crumbling relic of what once had been. He had only helped push over the first domino. If they could see that he had survived the attack at Vae Victis’s headquarters and came over to the enemy, he would go down as the most hated traitor in the world’s history. Could all the others claim that they were helping the apocalypse come into fruition?
Underachievers
, he thought with a laugh that was more of a croak because of the side of his face.

The double doors to the study opened behind him and he turned away from his reflection and thoughts, as if they had never been. Edward, who was forever watchful and silent, (Andrew had heard whispers that Anais had ripped out the Pallida Mors’s tongue because of words that had displeased him long ago) was a man who looked to be in his fifties with gray at his temples, but Andrew knew him to be much much older, came into the room. His suit was all black, even down to his shoes while his face was unreadable.

Stepping aside, he made room for the man who would be responsible for making the world burn. Anais, Lucifer’s known brother. Anais strolled in looking very distinguish and regal in a dark blue tailor-made suit with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. His own face was like an image that wasn’t quite clear if you looked directly at it. Andrew could now see that it was what it always appeared to be, a mask for the world to see.

“Our apologies Andrew, dealing with politicians is in fact worse than some of the demons I have made and dealt with,” he said, going over to pour himself a single malt scotch.