My foot was propped up on a small wooden stool with a bandage wrapped tightly around my ankle. My hands were crossed, and a scowl was so deeply etched on my face that a small part of me feared it would never come off. Across from me sat Anderson, hands folded in front of him as he stared intently at me.
"So Rachel, now that your ankle has been taken care of, I have some questions for you." My scowl deepened. I was fuming with a self-hatred so intense the sound of my own voice was likely to result in the massacre of a small town. Saying nothing was the best thing for me to do at this point.
I looked around; Anderson's house was a far cry from humble. The entire abode was adorned with Victorian Era furniture, giving it a medieval flare. How very appropriate. You've literally stumbled your way into a dungeon. Get ready for the torture. I rolled my eyes, self-berating wasn't helping my mood.
"Something troubling you Rachel? You look as if you're impossibly irritable." The smirk he'd worn all afternoon was still gracing me with its presence. He'd been smirking carrying me into the house, closer than what was necessary I might add. This man was a priest. Sexual relations with anyone was completely prohibited. That point aside, he had smirked wrapping my ankle, and he was smirking now.
Stay calm, stay calm. Suppress your anger and do your job. You are not completely incompetent.
I cut my subconscious off, it was time to focus. These next few hours were critical.
I resurfaced and saw Anderson looking at me with an expecting look, waiting for me to answer. "I'm sorry Anderson, what did you say? I wasn't paying attention."
"Questions," he said slowly, as if trying to explain something infinitely simple to a dim-witted child, "I have a few, and you will answer them." I wrinkled my nose, he'd always gotten a kick from that, "Oh I will? I have zero choice or say in this matter?" Still smirking he said, "Well by the looks of it, you don't. It's raining outside, you can't very well walk, and I'm giving you shelter. Think of your answers as a sort of payment for my generosity." Damn sociopath.
I stuck my nose up at him, "Anderson, Open the door and I will gladly limp back to town. I do not care if I get rained on, I'm already soaked. We both know I've had quite enough of your generosity to last a lifetime." His eyes darkened. I was getting to him and he was trying to resist. "Rachel, I am warning you that you are on dangerous grounds. I was compassionate towards you then, don't think I'll make the same mistake a second time." With that remark I was on my feet, my ankle screaming in protest was promptly ignored.
"Oh, you were compassionate towards me?! You call preforming an exorcism ON MY MOTHER COMPASSIONATE?! Newsflash Anderson, she wasn't fucking possessed. She wasn't a fucking witch." I was breathing heavily. Hellsing be damned. I was getting closure, and it was happening right now. "Rachel, she was exhibiting all the signs of the Devil having hold of her. The fucking Puritans didn't know how to handle it, so I did with the Church and God behind me." He said calmly.
"You do realize that science and historians have speculated and proven that Salem was under no kind of evil persuasion, right? The girls had SIEZURES. The dumb-fucks didn't know what epilepsy was, and because of you, my mother underwent horrors no one should ever deal with. Because she survived your little ritual, she was found guilty of having slept with Satan and hanged." I shot back. He was going to answer for what he did.
He looked at me for a long time, as if debating something exceedingly important in his mind. He took a deep breath and look at me, "Rachel, I know you to be an intelligent human being. Given our age, intelligence is something to be gained. You are far from wise, however, despite your proficiency in language.
My blood boiled, I opened my mouth to give him what-for. Anderson thinks you're a model catholic now, dummy. Don't blow it because you can't control your fucking temper. My subconscious butted in, and I held my tongue.
"Anderson, you are right, a true Church of God needed to handle the situation. I still have a hard time coming to terms that my mother was under evil influence." I lowered my eyes to floor, praying he'd take the bait like he did before.
"You have indeed changed very much Rachel," Anderson finally said. I looked at him, meeting his gaze, betraying nothing. "I don't know if this change is good or not."
To be Continued…
