I sat on the bed with the book open in my hands. The Tale of Demons.
I looked through the table of contents and saw a name that stuck out to me.
Forneus.
I flipped through the pages until I found that chapter in the center of the book. The books were printed and bound in a traditional fashion, but there was no publisher information, no ISBN, nothing. Did they write these themselves?
I read through the information. Forneus, the great marquis of Hell, is loved by both his friends and his foes. A member of the Order of Thrones and once a member of the Angels, Forneus is the expert in rhetoric and languages, and his name is derived from “oven” because he embodies the heat of the flames of Hell. He has twenty-nine legions of demons under his rule and is the ruler of the Malevolent, granting elevation of man to demon to those who earn it.
“I’ve gotta get outta here…”
The door opened, and Rebecca stepped inside, dressed in black like Forneus and the Malevolent. She glided forward and stopped several feet away from me. “You’re conducting your studies. Good.”
My studies? “I’m just trying to figure out how fucking crazy all of you are.”
Her lips pressed tightly together, and her eyes seemed to burn with flames. “You’re immortal. You’re the light. You’re the way. Appreciate the gift you’ve been given by God—”
“I’m not an angel!” I slammed the book shut. “I’m just a person that you stole! I was living my life like a normal person until you freaks decided to take me. You took my life when it wasn’t yours. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Rebecca was still, turning ice-cold, her eyes widening, curling her bottom lip into her mouth to chew. “You have no idea how lucky you are. You have no idea the gift that’s been bestowed upon you. You have no idea the sacrifice someone would make to have the divinity you have. I suggest you appreciate it.”
I didn’t even bother refuting her insanity anymore. This woman was more than brainwashed. It was as if she’d had a brain transplant.
She walked to the bookcase and pulled out a book before handing it to me.
I didn’t take it.
Her eyes turned steely at my disobedience before she set the book on the bedspread beside me. “You will practice the harp every night and prepare for Forneus.”
“Prepare what for Forneus? And what is his real name?”
“Music.” She never answered the second question.
I glanced at the harp before I looked at her again. “I have no idea how to play the harp—”
“Then learn.” She stepped back and approached the door. “I’m here to guide you to worship.” She raised her hand and gestured to the door, moving with forced elegance that was just ominous.
“I don’t worship Satan.”
“Nor do we.”
I hadn’t left my room since my interaction with Forneus. All we’d had was a conversation, but it disturbed me so greatly that I didn’t want to leave my quarters. The door to Beatrice’s room had stayed locked, so I hadn’t seen her. I shuffled between two different feelings—fear and bravery. Sometimes I found the strength to speak my mind, but at other times, I was too scared to move an inch. I knew this place wasn’t really hell, but sometimes my mind actually believed it was because it was so traumatic.
“Allow me to guide you to worship.”
I didn’t want to go anywhere with this bitch. “I’m good.”
“You need to pray with the other angels.”
Other angels? All I’d seen was Beatrice and Claire. There were others? “Women like me?”
“Yes. Angels.”
That was tempting. “Alright.” I set the book aside and moved to the door.
She didn’t move. “Your wings.”
I stilled and stared her down.
“You can’t enter the church without your wings.”
I was eager to see the others, so I didn’t make a fuss. I put them on and followed her at a distance. It was daylight now, but that didn’t make the place any less menacing. Now I could see the thick trees all around us, hear the silence of isolation. There were statues everywhere, torches that burned even in the daylight. I looked through the trees to see the distant landscape, the flatness that continued on forever, the far-off view of the mountains hundreds of miles away. The Malevolent were there, posted in the same places as that night. They watched me, slowly turning their heads the farther I went, so fucking ghoulish I couldn’t even describe it.
We moved down the cobblestone path and between the different cabins that showed no occupants inside. There were sculptures and statues along the way, crosses made of wood and leaves posted outside the buildings. Now that it was midday, I could make out the area better. It was expansive, and the farther we moved into the tree line, the more it rose slightly, leading us to a higher elevation. I could see the church where Forneus met me nights ago, a building with no windows.
Rebecca turned down a different path and took me closer to the graveyard.
There was a white building there, this one with windows, a cross mounted at the top.
As we came closer, I looked at the headstones that had nothing etched into the surface, but the rise in the earth told me there were bodies buried there. “Who’s…in the graves?”
Rebecca stopped several feet away from the main entrance and turned to face me. “Angels are the only ones permitted inside this church. It’s the place of worship and prayer. It’s the place where angels can ask the Lord for forgiveness for your demon.”
Forgiveness…ha. I’d get right on that. “Forneus can’t come in here?”
“No.”
“You can’t come in here?”
Subtle irritation moved into her gaze. “No.”
The first sign of good news. “Not the Malevolent?”
This time, she ignored the question and walked away, moving past me and back down the cobblestone pathway to the main part of the camp.
After I watched her go, I turned back to the door.
Then I jumped several feet into the air because the Malevolent appeared. They hadn’t been there a moment ago, but now they stood a few feet away from the building, wearing their cattle skulls. My eyes shifted as I looked at each one of them, and they looked back at me, watching me from a distance of twenty feet, reminding me that they were always there…even if I couldn’t see them. One of them could have been responsible for taking me from Paris…or maybe all of them. “Fucking freaks.” I flipped them the bird before I opened the door and stepped inside, feeling brave since they couldn’t follow me in there.
I stepped inside the church, which reminded me of my bedroom because the rows of seats were white and made of birchwood. The chandeliers were elegant and ornate, lit by electricity rather than candles. The windows allowed the natural light to come inside and brighten the room, making it feel like a haven compared to the rest of the place.
Except for the faces in the windows.
The Malevolent stood there and stared inside, still, just watching me.
You couldn’t make this shit up.
I stared back at them for a while, hoping my hostility would break their eye contact.
It didn’t.
I looked forward again and started to move down the aisle toward the front.
There were two women there dressed like me, on their knees before the large cross at the front of the room. With their palms together, they looked like they were truly praying.
One woman sat alone in the row, facing straight ahead, her wings flattened against the chair behind her because she didn’t bend them first so she could sit. She clearly didn’t give a damn.
My kind of girl.
I moved down the aisle and took a seat beside her. “Can you believe this shit?”
She turned her head toward me, long brown hair like mine, her eyes slightly lifeless like Beatrice’s. “No.” Her eyes shifted past me and looked out the windows.
I followed her stare and looked at the skull heads pressed to the glass to watch us. I turned back to her with my eyes wide with incredulity.
“You get used to it.” She extended her hand to me. “Laura.”
I shook her hand. “Constance.”
She turned her head to look at the front.
I watched her, watched her watch the women at the front. “So, what the fuck is going on?”
“They’re praying for forgiveness for their demons.”
“What?” I hissed. “They buy into this?”
“Some. Others put on a show.”
“Why would anyone put on a show for these sickos?”
She turned back to me, her lips painted cherry red with smoky makeup around her eyes. “To stay alive.”
Fear flooded my veins when I heard her words, heard the crestfallen tone to her voice. “Forneus said it’s a sin to hurt an angel…”
“It is. But what happens when they find out you aren’t one?”
Now my heart pounded harder than it ever had. I was terrified just the way I’d been at the theatre, in my apartment, on the street. My life was in danger, and those fight-or-flight instincts kicked in. “The graveyard is…”
She nodded. “The Graveyard of Fallen Angels is what they call it.”
“Oh Jesus…”
“So, I suggest you put on an act and make them believe—because your life depends on it.”
The sun moved in the sky to mark the time. There were no clocks here, so that was the only way to distinguish anything in this place. I had no idea what day of the week it was, and without a phone to display the date, it was hard to keep track of the amount of time I’d been there.
I had no idea how many nights I’d slept there.
Maybe a week?
Maybe two?
The shadows changed, but the Malevolent remained at the windows, remained watchful as if their lives depended on it. Some would leave, only to be replaced by others. We were animals in a cage, and they were visiting a zoo. It was just a stare, but it was still a huge invasion into my personal space, and the longer their stares continued, the more uncomfortable I became. “There’s got to be a way out of here.”
Laura ignored them much better than I did. Her hands rested in her lap, and she continued to stare at the cross at the front, watching the other girls light candles and say their prayers. “There’s one—death.”
“I don’t accept that.”
“I’ve been here for two years, and I’ve never figured it out.”
“Have you tried to run?”
“Run?” She turned back to me, her light-colored eyes small in accusation. “Run where, exactly? Have you looked around? We’re near the Alps, which means we’re in the middle of nowhere in France. The closest village has to be a hundred miles. You expect me to run a hundred miles in the heat? The snow?”
“We’re in a first world country. There has to be a town nearby.”
She shook her head. “The only coming and going is done through horses and wagons…so I really don’t think so. Sometimes the occasional chopper.”
“Then we fight.”
She gave me another incredulous look. “Do you know how to fight?”
“Well…no.”
“Then that sounds like a terrible plan.”
“They probably have weapons around here somewhere.”
“I never see them carry anything but daggers.”
“But how would they fight off an enemy?”
“An enemy?” she asked. “We aren’t in the eighteenth century.”
“It sure feels like it.” It felt like I wasn’t in reality at all.
“We’re in a cult. Plain and simple. All we can do is keep surviving.”
“Keep surviving?” I looked forward at the girls then turned back to her. “Maybe we have different definitions of living, but this isn’t it. We can’t do nothing. Because at some point, they’re going to realize none of us are angels, and we’re all going to die. I’m surprised you’ve made it this long.”
She gave a sarcastic chuckle. “I’m quite the actress…”
“Well, I’m not. I can’t be what these freaks want me to be. We work together and figure out a plan.”
She shook her head slightly. “Girl, it’s hopeless.”
“Nothing is hopeless.” I had to believe there was a chance out of this place, because if I didn’t allow myself to have a little bit of hope, then I wouldn’t be able to go on. “Laura, you’ve been here a long time, so I can’t even begin to imagine how disheartened you must feel—but we can’t give up. How many women are here?”
“Twelve.”
“Oh. That’s it?”
“I’m glad there aren’t more because no one deserves this.”
I’d assumed there would be more, based on how big the organization seemed to be. But it was probably difficult to keep stealing women without arousing too much suspicion. Or it was difficult to find the right women that they truly believed to be angels. “No, no one does.” I started to feel defeated once again, knowing we were outnumbered, and running without direction would probably be pointless, especially if there would be consequences for that…whatever they were. “Who’s your demon?”
“Raum.”
“What’s he like?”
She took a long time to answer the question, her eyes studying the Malevolent in the windows, their darkness blocking out the light from the sun. “Living here for so long has taught me to change my perspective. I could be angry that I’m here at all, but I’ve come to appreciate Raum because he’s better than the others. He’s not cruel and vicious like the other demons. I give him what he needs, and he doesn’t hurt me.”
“Forneus said it’s a sin to hurt an angel.”
“But demons are sinners.” She made the statement simply, like that was all the explanation I needed. Her eyes eventually turned back to me. “Rules are meant to be broken. Vows shattered. Sins committed. Don’t assume you’re safe because they say you’re safe. There is no truth to this place, not when you’re in Hell.”
The stares of the Malevolent became more intense, burning into my cheek like they could hear every word we shared. My heart fluttered in my chest and not in that cute, butterfly way, but in that irregular, arrhythmia way. “All the more reason for us to find a way out of here.” I couldn’t continue this existence in a living nightmare, where reality was the same whether I was asleep or awake.
“If you come up with a viable plan, I’m in. But I don’t expect you will.” She wasn’t a pessimistic person, just beaten down by the painful existence, mentally exhausted, broken. A single moment in this place felt like a year, so years must have felt like centuries.
I didn’t judge her whatsoever. “Desperate people do desperate things…” And I was pretty desperate to get the hell out of this place.
She faced forward again, her eyes dropping and looking at the bench in front of her, her hands together in her lap.
The entryway doors opened and closed, and we were joined by others.
Beatrice and Claire.
Beatrice stood there in her dress and her wings, holding her daughter’s hand. Claire had on a dress as well, wearing her own wings. They stood together and scanned the church, taking in the space, going through the exact emotions I’d gone through when I stepped inside.
Claire looked at the windows where the Malevolent stared and inched closer to her mother.
Laura turned her head to look at them. “A child…?”
“Mom?” Claire looked up at her mom. “Can we get rid of them?”
Beatrice stared at the skulls in the window then turned away, looking helpless. “They don’t bother us. Don’t worry about them.”
“They don’t normally have kids?” I asked Laura, watching Beatrice and Claire move to a bench together and sit a few rows in front of us, watching the other girls in the front.
“I’ve never seen one,” Laura said. “I know these guys are motherfuckers, but this crosses a line.”
“Beatrice said they haven’t tried to touch her,” I whispered. “And it better stay that way.” I looked ahead and saw Claire pull her knees to her chest and try to hide behind her mom so the Malevolent couldn’t see her through the windows on one side of the church—even though they were also on the other.
I was a grown-ass woman, and I was unnerved by them. I couldn’t even imagine how a child would feel. There were closets at the front of the room, so I left my seat and moved to the aisle so I could join the girls at the front.
They both turned to look at me, as if they expected me to worship.
I opened one of the closets and found candle holders, bibles, random textbooks, art books that depicted angels in sketches, all kinds of weird stuff. And I found tape. “Perfect.” I carried everything out of the closet and dropped it on the nearest bench.
Now everyone stared at me, wondering what I was doing.
I opened the large book with angel illustrations and ripped out the pages before applying strips of tape to the corners. The Malevolent stared at me just the way the girls stared, like no one had any idea what my plan was.
I walked over to the window, right up to one of the Malevolent, and slammed the picture onto the window, the picture of the angel facing outward so he could stare at that instead of us. I pressed my palm into the pieces of tape and made sure it stuck nicely. “Look at that, asshole.” I turned back to the supplies on the bench and ripped out more pages, adding the tape, and slamming it down on the glass to block their faces.
The more of the windows I covered, the more they crowded into the remaining space, trying to keep us in view so they could continue to stare at us. In silence, I worked, the girls staring in surprise, the Malevolent squeezing into less and less space.
When the whole window was completed, all that could be seen were their slight shadows when they moved. They remained there even though they couldn’t see anything anymore. Then they departed and left.
I carried everything to the windows on the opposite side of the church and continued my work, seeing the Malevolent that were once on the other side now joining the others. They crowded together, their faces occupying every single space in the window so they could get a glimpse inside.
I ripped the tape and plastered the pictures over the window, repeating the same steps until it was completely covered. Now all that remained were the shadows, but another layer of pictures should completely hide them. It was much darker in the church now, but there was still enough sun from the windows that we didn’t need to turn on all the lights. I turned around and faced the girls again.
Laura looked incredulous, as if she couldn’t believe I’d just done that.
Beatrice had the same fearful look, as if she expected consequences for this.
The two girls at the front stopped their worship and now just stared at me.
But Claire smiled.
“I don’t like those things.” Claire sat beside me on the bench, looking at the blocked-out windows before turning back to me. “I don’t like this place. I want to go home.” She had light-colored hair like her father, similar blue eyes, and she had such a beautiful innocence that it broke my heart that she was there.
None of us deserved to be there—but her most of all. “I want to go home too. But we’ll leave eventually.”
“Because my dad will save us?” She turned back to me, searching my gaze for hope, like I somehow knew her father well enough to make that assumption.
“Yes. And even if he doesn’t, we’ll figure it out.”
“You promise?” Her voice dropped, like she was still afraid, like she needed some kind of reassurance.
I wasn’t her mother, and it felt wrong to make a promise I couldn’t keep, especially to a child, but I did…and I meant it. “Yes.”
She nodded, more to herself than anything else.
I was getting all of us out of this place. We were outnumbered and far away from civilization, but I believed every problem had a solution. It just took a long time to find that solution sometimes.
Laura and Beatrice talked quietly as they sat together a few feet away, keeping their voices low.
I was alone and I was scared, but I couldn’t imagine how scared Beatrice was since she wasn’t alone. She had to keep not just herself alive but a whole other person. That was a difficult hand to be dealt.
“So, you know my dad?” Claire’s blond hair was in a braid down one shoulder, and her wings were crumpled behind her.
“No. I just met him the one time. But I could tell how much he loves you.” I gave her a gentle smile.
“Yeah, we’re best friends.”
“I’m sure you are.” All I knew about him was that he was a contractor, so I doubted there was any chance he would find us. I doubted even the police would find us. We couldn’t wait around for someone to come save us. We needed to make a plan to get ourselves out of here alive. But I let her believe that her father was a hero, because I was sure he was a hero to her heart. “I found some crayons and colored pencils. You want to color?”
“You did?” she asked in excitement.
“Yeah, I’ll get it for you.” I went to the closet and grabbed the items, along with the book of sketches. There were no demons inside, just angels floating in the clouds or lounging by a lake. It seemed harmless for her to look at it, and it would also keep her mind occupied so she wouldn’t think about the terror that existed outside these walls.
When I returned, Laura had left. I gave Claire everything, and she turned to the first page to see an elegant woman dressed the way she was. She pulled out a pink colored pencil and started to add the color.
I looked at Beatrice, who sat alone, her expression so forlorn it looked as if she might burst into tears. Claire was occupied with her coloring, so I slid over and came close to her. “You okay?”
She didn’t react to my words, as if she didn’t hear me.
I assumed Laura had just told her everything she’d told me, and Beatrice was a bit stung by it all. “We’re going to figure out a way out of here, alright?”
She slowly turned to look at me, her features undeniably pretty like the rest of the women here, some of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen in my life. She had big, round eyes and sculpted cheekbones. But when she was devastated, her beauty was diminished. “The Malevolent follow our every move, and we have no idea where we are… Come on.”
I was scared too. I was hopeless too. But giving up right off the bat couldn’t be the decision. “Look, I’m scared too. I’ve never been so scared in my entire life. I’m not ashamed to say that. Anyone else would feel the exact same way. But we can’t just give up. We can’t just accept what has happened to us. It won’t happen overnight, but in time…we’ll figure it out.” I had to keep telling myself that, had to stay focused on some ideal, because if I didn’t…I would lose my mind. And if I lost my mind, I would lose my body too. “We’re in this together.”
She faced forward again, her eyes glossing over like she didn’t take a single word to heart.
“Just think of Claire.” A mother’s strength was unparalleled. They would do anything for their child, take any risk to give them a better life. She was just disturbed right now, but that instinctual fight would hit her. “And your boyfriend.”
“I don’t have a boyfriend.”
I didn’t want to ask her about their complicated relationship because it was none of my business. “Claire’s father. You’ve got to get back to him.”
She shook her head slightly. “We aren’t close.”
“Oh…”
She turned back to me. “We hooked up a couple times, got pregnant, and then…we turned into parents. We just hand her back and forth, but he has her most of the time.”
“Well, he asked about you, so I know he cares about you.”
It was the first time she wore a slight smile, but it was deeply sarcastic. She released a cold chuckle. “That man only cares about one woman—Claire. She’s the only woman he’ll ever love. The rest of us…mean nothing to him.”
Now I didn’t know what to say, and I felt like I’d crossed a boundary I shouldn’t have. “You have a sweet and beautiful daughter, so it’s still a blessing.” Having a family hadn’t been on my list of priorities because I was a struggling dancer who went through men like a deck of cards. I never found an ace. But when that happened…if I ever got out of here…I would want a family.
“Yeah.”
I turned quiet, unsure if I should continue to talk to her because she seemed closed off and withdrawn. I wanted us to be friends and allies since we were neighbors, but she still seemed to be in shock about the whole thing. “So, you’re a dancer too?”
“I was.” She turned back to me, tucking her long hair behind her ear. “Benton is our only chance to get out of here, and if he can’t make it happen, then there’s no hope. With every passing day, my hope grows weaker and weaker…”
“Why is he our only chance?”
She rolled her bottom lip into her mouth as she considered how to answer the question. “He’s got connections. He was never part of something like this, but he used to be a part of this world.”
“Part of this world?” I whispered. “What does that mean?”
“I don’t know a lot about it,” she said. “Only what I forced out of him. He used to be an underworld criminal, basically. He never wanted to have kids, and whatever he was mixed up in forbade him from having kids, so when we found out about Claire…he was furious. He said it compromised his commitment, his eternal pledge of fidelity to his brothers. We were total strangers, and after a couple passionate nights, we were both thrust into lives we didn’t want.”
“Did you use protection?”
“Yes. He accused me of tricking him, but I reminded him he was the one who supplied the condom. It was just a fluke, that one percent chance, and then it happened. Not to mention, I’ve never wanted to have kids. I’m just not the motherly type.” She looked past me and stared at Claire at the edge of the bench, oblivious to our conversation as she colored. “So, he had to leave that life behind, which was the last thing he wanted.”
“If neither of you wanted her, then…” I couldn’t bring myself to actually ask the question, because it was so inappropriate. I hardly knew her, but the conversation went deeper and deeper as she shared her life with me.
She pulled her gaze away from Claire. “I know you’ll judge me, but I just don’t care anymore, not when we’re in this place…not when we’ll die in this place. I suggested we take that road, but he said no.”
“I don’t judge you, Beatrice.” My hand moved to hers because I could see her suffering, her self-loathing. “She’s here, so it doesn’t matter what your decision would have been otherwise.”
She dropped her gaze. “He’s been out of the game since she was born, and I’ve never been certain of what he actually did, but he might know people who can get us out of here…if he’s stayed in contact.”
“Then let’s continue to hope, Beatrice. Maybe he’ll come. Maybe he’ll save us.” If I hadn’t seen him in the flesh, I would take no solace in her words, but he was a strong man with big shoulders and a height that towered over me. His arms were ripped like he picked up trucks for fun, veins running down the surface of his skin. He carried himself like he was somebody, not just a random person nobody would remember. And the look in his eyes showed the depth of his love for his daughter. Without hearing him say more than a few words, I could feel that deep and unconditional love he had for her, that eternal and never-ending love that would send him to the ends of the earth just to get her back. He would never stop searching. He would keep looking, keep asking, keep trying…until he took his last breath.
