Page 60 of Be My Sacrifice

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Page 60 of Be My Sacrifice

“Maybe he needs more of the acid poured on his limbs?” The voice of gorilla number two has me closing my eyes and steeling myself, knowing that more horror is coming, and that there is nothing I can do to prevent it, except escape to my happy place.

The place where I had lived with Dinah for years. I’ve trained my mind now to disassociate what is happening to my body, and just leave it here while my mind travels to happier times.No, no more. I can’t take any more. DINAH! Dinah, please come for me, baby!

I feel movement behind my chained, naked spread eagle form, and I force my eyes to remain closed, as the first bite of the acid they have been using on my skin hits my shoulder, and bubbles, to the sound of laughter coming from the fuckers who are abusing me. The burning sensation brings tears to my eyes that I refuse to shed for these assholes. I’m going to kill them all, every last one, and take them to hell with me. I will have my revenge before I take my last breath.

A memory pops up in my mind, and I immediately latch onto it, letting it transport me far away from my misery here.

We lie in the grass-filled meadow behind our small manor house. The sun is warming both of our skins with its rays. Dinah’s small, delicate fingers are intertwined with mine, and I’m admiring the black nail polish she loves so much, that we got at a salvage meet in the underground. My pretty little Nightstar has a penchant for things from the world long gone. Her curiosity about our ancestors, and how the old world used to work, never ceases to amaze me.

If the Brotherhood knew we were sneaking off the property, they would have me strapped to a post and beaten to death. What am I saying? If the Brotherhood had any idea I was fucking my charge every chance I got, they would sever my head from my shoulders, and put her to death or into one of the Order brothels, to be used by disgusting men of the Brotherhood.

The reality of our situation, and all the sins we are committing, constantly plagues my thoughts. The fear that lives inside my heart and soul that, at any moment, they could take her from me sucks all the air out of my lungs. I can’t lose her, and I can no longer give her up either.

At least I don’t have to worry about her getting pregnant anymore. The constant fear that wrapped itself around me tightly, every time I was inside of her, took some of the pleasure out of our lovemaking. Thank fuck that we managed to find someone who could install the birth control inside of her womb. It cost me every cent I had, and we even had to swap some furnishings from the house, but it was worth it.

Not only because I don’t have to worry now about her getting pregnant with my child, but also the possibility of her dying in childbirth, like so many women outside of the privilege of high-ranking Sacred Wives do. Pregnancy and birth are a death sentence for low-ranking women. No health care is ever provided to them, not even when they are in distress. That is the way of the Brotherhood; they don’t care about their worker ants. They know without birth control, they can constantly replenish the working class. They enjoy wrapping chains around our necks, keeping us prisoners and choking us, even if it’s only metaphorically.

“What are you thinking about?” The beautiful woman lying next to me asks in a soft voice, as she traces shapes in the sky with the fingers of her other hand.

“Hmmm?” I reply, not wanting to divulge the direction of my dark thoughts. I don’t want to ruin this moment for us. Who knows how many more we will get to have, before they come and try to take her away from me. They will come, I know it. Dinah is too valuable a prize for them to leave unattended for long. She’s a Camrose, and that name alone is worth its weight in gold.

A smirk breaks across my lips at the memory of the last time they sent someone from the capital to check on her, and she behaved like a raving lunatic. She threw every item she could get her hands on at them. Hitting one of those smug, pretentious Order pricks with a vase on the side of their head that left them bleeding.

She snarled and growled like a rabid animal, and wouldn’t answer any of their questions. She even managed to bite the one guy on the arm, before he deemed her insane and left with his tail between his legs. I received a worried call from her brother shortly after, questioning her sanity and the state of her mind. Did I enjoy lying to him about her mental state? No, but I also couldn’t risk him coming to take her from me. I can’t lose her now, and I am not sure I ever could.

Dinah Camrose is really something to behold. A stunning, priceless treasure that I refuse to relinquish. I’m sure in the capital, they are gossiping about how insane she is, how unfit she is to be a Sacred Wife and mother. It makes me so fucking proud of her. Yet it won’t matter, not in the long run, because her husband, much to my dismay, was picked long ago by her father, and her brother reaffirmed the agreement, not long after she came of age. Her wants and wishes will never matter to anyone but me.

Dinah Camrose will become the property of Ezekiel Rothesay, whenever he decides to claim her, much to my despair and rage. Once again, the thoughts of running away with her and taking her to the resistance run rampant through my mind. We could be safe with the rebels. They could help me hide her from the Brotherhood.

She would never get to see her family again. She would be branded a traitor and hunted like a beast by the Brotherhood. My worthless life would be forfeit along with hers. All these thoughts rush through me and paralyze me from doing what I know I should. I should take her and go and never return here.

“Why are you hiding your thoughts from me, Sammy? We don’t do that to each other. Tell me what is on your mind?” She rolls towards me, her hand pressed against my chest as she snuggles into my neck, breathing deeply and releasing a worried sigh.

My chest tightens at her words; she’s right. We don’t hide things from each other, even though I probably should. We are equals in this relationship; neither one taking more than the other is willing to give. I’m ten years her senior, and have seen so much more of the horrible and destitute world around us. The brutality that the Brotherhood is willing to inflict on its own people. People they swore before their God to protect.

My only oath is to her, to keep her safe, breathing, and by my side. She is the God that I pray to. She is my salvation, my mercy, and my reward, and I refuse to be parted from her so some Brotherhood-entitled prick can abuse her. If Ezekiel Rothesay comes for her, he will meet with his death at my hands.

“I’m thinking about how they still haven’t made a move to come and get you, Nightstar. I’m worried. It’s been over a year since you came of age. Yet your brother hesitates even to come see you in person.” Although her brother speaks to her on the phone every week without fail, he has never summoned her back to the capital, or attempted to visit her, in the five-plus years she has been in my care. The question is, why?

My source inside of his house tells me something is not right there. While he loves and protects his frail mother from the Brotherhood, will he do the same for Dinah? He’s best friends with Ezekiel Rothesay and that other monster, Abraham Mercier, all of them having grown up together as children with Dinah. They are more than friends; all three of them are lovers, perpetrating sins against the Brotherhood that could have them hanging from a noose, just like Dinah and I. Is that why he hesitates to come for her, because he knows he won’t be able to continue with his relationship with Ezekiel? Is it guilt that he’s fucking his sister’s future husband?

“Gabriel doesn’t want me at the capital. He disagrees with how my mother has been treated. If he’s keeping me safer a little longer, let us enjoy it. I refuse to be parted from you anyway. They would have to murder me to get me to leave you. I love you, Samuel Wendover, and I always will.”

Her words have my heart thumping wildly in my chest. Suddenly, the beautiful sunny day becomes cloudy and dark, and the sun begins to change colors, casting us into darkness like an eclipse. Dinah’s touch against my skin feels cold and icy, as if a winter storm had invaded her flesh. I turn my head to stare at her, but nothing but a shadow greets my sight. What the hell is happening here?

I rush to my feet, searching all around me for her, while a scream is logged in my throat. “Dinah! Dinah, where are you?”

The wind picks up, and torrential rain begins above me. The darkened sky opens up and soaks me with an icy chill. My bones begin to shake and tense, and a feeling of malignant apprehension overtakes me. Where is Dinah? Where the fuck did she go? I try to turn around, but it’s as if my limbs have grown roots, and I can’t move.

The scene changes rapidly, and I’m no longer in the meadow. Instead, I find myself in a dark room reeking of despair, urine, and blood. My limbs ache with fierce pain, as if all of my tendons are being stretched like an elastic band. My lungs feel like they are filled with heavy ash, not allowing me to take a deep breath. My head spins as I try to hold it up, but it’s too heavy on my neck.

“Dinah...” The word mumbles from my lips, as a sharp pain begins in my lower back and legs, and continues to rise along my back, until tears slide down my face from how much pain I am in.

“There he is. Welcome back, Samuel Wendover, I am not nearly done with you. You will pay for your sins, and that of the whore.” Noah Rothesay stands before me with a cat o’ nine whip in his hands, crimson leaking off it from my blood. His hand rises, ready to unleash another lash across my seared skin, and a hoarse scream rips from my throat. The sound tearing what little is left of my sanity.

“Inject him with more of the drug, and let’s hear how loud he screams this time. He can’t keep fighting us forever.”

“No...” the word tears from my lips, just as one of the guards yanks my neck to the side and plunges something into my neck. It takes mere seconds for me to feel the effects of the psychedelic drug racing through my system. Blinding colors and distorted shapes swim before my vision. My mouth goes slack, and I sense liquid slipping down my chin.




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