Her brown eyes pooled with tears.
Her strawberry-blonde hair was a mess.
Her lips were covered with duct tape.
Her hands chained to the ceiling, her feet to the wall.
She was stripped down to her underwear and the smallest sense of hopelessness washed over her. The room was dark and musty, it smelled as if millions of her kind had been killed there before her and tonight she would be the newest victim.
The iron door that was in front of her slowly opened and it squealed from years of rust.
Four people entered. First was a shirtless male who appeared to be in his early forty’s. He had a smirk on his blackened lips and hatred emblazoned in his eyes. Three younger individuals trailed behind; a young male who appeared to be seventeen, a young girl who seemed a year or two younger and lastly, was another boy who was about ten.
The shirtless male walked up the chained woman, tightly grabbed her chin and forced her to stare at him.
She tried to shake her head free but his grasp was too strong.
He brought his nose close to her tear stained cheek, took in a deep breath and spat on her, “You smell putrid.” He gritted his teeth. “One way you can identify them,” He looked at the three young individuals, “is by their repulsive odor.”
The two older kids listened intently with smiles on their faces, while the younger one stared at his feet as he tried to keep the tears from falling out of his eyes.
The shirtless man walked behind the chained woman and gently caressed her back. He placed his lips near her ears and slowly whispered, “Show them.”
With tears streaming down her cheek, the chained woman muffled something.
“Remove the tape.” He nodded his head toward the three kids. The girl walked up to the chained woman and ripped off the tape in a quick motion, causing the chained woman great pain. A smile of pleasure appeared on the girl’s lips.
“Ahh,” The shirtless man breathed, “the sweet sound of agony.”
“Now,” He gently ran his fingers through her strawberry blonde hair, “Show them.”
“No.” The chained woman cried, her voice low and weak.
The shirtless man walked around so he could face her and slapped her across the face, “You dare defy me!” he yelled at her, anger seeping out of his pores. He tightly squeezed her cheek and stared into her eyes, “I said show them.” He let go of her face and slapped her once again.
She cried but refused to fulfill his wishes.
“Very well then.” He smirked and pulled out a black handled athamé from his pocket.
Her eyes widened at the sight of the athamé.
“Now,” He smirked as he ran his fingers along the edges of the athamé, “show them.”
She closed her eyes and hung her head low as tears fell to her chained feet. “No,” she shook her head.
The shirtless man grew angry and punched her hard in the stomach.
She let out a cry of pain, “Kill me if you want, I won’t give you any satisfaction.” She sobbed.
“You leave me no choice.” His voice was as cold as ice and as hard as stone. He looked over at the three kids and handed the athamé to the girl. “Do the honors, Lilith.” He smiled at her.
“I’ve done plenty, father.” Lilith looked up at the shirtless man, “So has Azel,” She looked at the older boy. “It’s his turn.” She pitched the athamé at the younger boy.
The younger boy let the athamé drop to the ground and cowered away. “No, not yet.” He shook his head and stared at the athamé as if it was poisoned.
“I should kill you along with her!” The shirtless man stared angrily at the younger boy as he pointed to the chained woman.
“I’m sorry father.” The younger boy cried, “I’m not ready yet.”
The shirtless man stared at him for a few seconds before directing his attention to his other son “Azel,” he called out to the older boy but still keeping his eyes on the younger boy, “slowly drive the athamé through her heart and twist it, I want her to feel every inch of the blade.”
Azel walked over, picked the athamé off the ground and snickered at his younger brother, “Coward.” He walked over to the chained woman and sniffed her, “Father was right, you smell horrid.”
The chained woman stared at him with her lifeless green eyes but didn’t say anything.
“Last chance,” The shirtless man spoke to the chained woman, “show them to us.”
She stared at him with no emotion on her face, “I said no. I refuse to give you the satisfaction.”
“They’ll appear when you’re dead anyway.” Azel dragged the athamé across the chained woman’s skin. “Shall I father?” he looked over at the shirtless man.
He nodded in the affirmative.
With an evil smirk on his face, Azel slowly pierced the chained woman’s chest with the athamé.
She screamed out in pain as the sharpened and jagged edges penetrated her chest.
The younger boy sat with his back against the wall and buried his head in his hands, crying.
Azel took great pleasure in torturing the chained woman.
“We can make this stop and kill you painlessly if you would just show them to us.” The shirtless man smiled.
“You will get yours.” The chained woman cried, “All of you will.” She screamed out in pain as Azel drove and twisted the athamé deeper into her heart until all that was left was the black handle.
“Push it in just a little more.” The shirtless man nodded at the black handle.
Azel pushed the athamé in just a little and the black handle started glowing.
The glowing light was intense and it encircled the chained woman. When the light faded, the shirtless man stared at the chained woman with a smirk, while Azel and Lilith stared in awe. The younger boy was still silently crying.
“Amazing.” Lilith breathed as she walked up the chain woman and ran her fingers along the soft, drooping feathered wings that were protruding from her back.
“Take out the athamé.” The shirtless man smiled at Azel.
Azel took out the glowing athamé and handed it to his father.
“Come,” He called out to Lilith and Azel, “You too Damien.” His voice filled hard as he called to his youngest son.
The shirtless man held the glowing athamé in his palm, “Place your index finger anywhere on it. It’s filled with her strength. Her essence. Her strength is now our strength.”
Lilith and Azel instantly touched the athamé
“Touch it or I swear you’ll die next. You’re a demon damn it! Stop acting like a little bitch!” The shirtless man narrowed his eyes at Damien.
Damien, whose hands were shaking, extended his index finger and placed it on the athamé. A slight rush ran through his veins, and some parts of him enjoyed it. He felt ashamed.
The dagger stopped glowing and the shirtless walked up to the dead, chained woman and began cutting off her wings.
“What’s that for father?” Lilith asked intoxicated from the rush the glowing dagger gave her.
“I always keep one wing as a trophy and the other goes to their family.” The shirtless man smirked.
“Thank you for sharing with us the family tradition father.” Azel smiled.
“Thank me when every single grigori and nephilim is dead.” He smiled.
© Copyright 2016 Tony Hart. All rights reserved.
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