Prologue 2/2
(Click here for part one)
"Let there be Light"
One breath later, James awoke to find himself drowning in darkness. Though his stiff body was at best half-awake, and felt as though it had not moved in a thousand years, his mind retained an uncomfortable clarity on the perilous nature of his circumstances.
Where am I? Who the fuck was that woman? Where are Adam and the others? Too many questions raced through James' mind, but one rung out louder than the rest. Why can't I move?
It was then that he noticed it. His body had been too numb to feel the cold metal a moment ago. But as his sense of touch returned, it brought with it the awareness of the shackles around his wrists and ankles, and the unforgiving bite of the frozen stone lying beneath his naked back.
Pain followed next, as James realised that his arms were stretched out wide, locked into place an inch further than his shoulders approved of. He tried with all his might to break free of his restraints, but proved only to be successful at dislocating one of his wrists.
The boy screamed in pain, and the walls screamed back, frightening him half to death. Within seconds, the pitch black room became saturated with the sound of his hyperventilation, reverberating back and forth among the audibly narrow walls.
James' body became an antenna- one tuned into a single frequency, with perfect reception. Unfortunately for the boy, that frequency was fear, and he found himself consumed by every phobia that ever bothered him throughout his life. All of a sudden he was afraid of the dark again, and of the snakes and spiders that he knew to be inching closer to him by the second.
A minute - or a millennium - of torment persisted before the terrified lad said a silent prayer for death. The request was met almost instantly by the strike of a match, and a flash of light noticeable even through James' firmly closed eyes. Rapid breath became no breath at all as the boy froze stiff with fear and tried to muster the courage to open his eyes. Terror had sewn them shut, but a sudden mental flash of an impending knife attack sprung them open immediately.
James could see no incoming assault. Only the somewhat familiar etchings on the ceiling, made visible by the orange gleams of light dancing around the stone above. With a heart beat so loud he could hear it, James - with some difficulty - forced his head up at the neck to investigate further.
At least seven figures, each in a hooded black robe, each holding a single candle, stood around their now witting sacrifice. James began to scream.
"Help!" "Adam!" "Hel-"
An icy cold hand promptly fell upon the boy's mouth, silencing his anguish. Developing tears blurred his vision for a second, but as his sight recovered, he noticed the face of the woman from the fountain, leaning over the alter and staring directly into his eyes.
A twinkle of light stole James' attention, allowing him to notice the dagger in her hand. It looked to be carved of a precious stone, and was identical in colour to that of the neon hemp leaf in the square. Chanting began as the boy tried desperately to break free. He yelled for help again- this time so loud that his ears popped as the air unable to escape his mouth for her hand found an alternative exit.
James stopped trying to shout and instead tried to bite her hand, but the woman's grip was too strong and he found himself unable to open his mouth at all. In a final effort to save himself, he returned his focus to her face, and pleaded with flooded eyes for her mercy.
The woman appeared to take pity on the boy, lowering her blade and removing her hand from his mouth. "What's wrong, my child?" She teased, her words followed by a sadistic laugh.
James gasped for air and began to sob. He now knew she was toying with him, for she made no attempt to hide it. The kind lady from the fountain was gone. She no longer needed that persona. The woman before him now had nothing kind about her, and James became certain she was the devil.
The chanting grew louder and James began to beg. "Please. Please. Don't do this." He urged.
The devil laughed again, more sinister this time, and the stone dagger in her hand invaded his view once again.
Louder still grew the chanting, and James could hear nothing but the sound of it, filling his ears and his mind. He glanced around the room one more time to see the shadows of the robed figures, battling across the walls and seemingly growing in size. Forcing his eyes shut, he prayed once again for death.
"What are they saying?" James begged, as the stir of voices in the room became too loud for him to bear.
A gust of wind flew by, and the boy felt his throat open. The stone beneath him became like ice as his chest fell warm with blood. Drowning on his last attempt to speak, a grateful whisper landed on James' neck.
"Let there be light."
