Chapter 3:
-Carla-
Her leg was numb with pain through the makeshift bandage that was applying pressure to the wound. After she uttered that word 'yes' he had ripped off a portion of his shirt and wrapped the wound.
He had picked her up, splashed the wound with ethanol and then applied the bandage, her screams were silenced with a rag stuffed into her mouth. She now walked with a limp because of the ever-present bullet in her leg.
John had released her restraints before her left so that she was free to stretch her arms out. Carla's body limped over to the wardrobe, it was odd to open it and see inside was clothes that were far too big for her. She raised an eyebrow… She was in John's bedroom. Her eyes widened. He was in the place he slept, he showered, where he… had certain relations with people.
She realised quickly that she was in the centre of her nemesis's private place. The place he let his guard down and showed his true self. With that thought in mind, her detective curiosity began to spin in her head as she searched the drawers.
She stopped when she opened the top drawer of John's drawers. There sat a teal shaded shirt with weird blotches all over it. A truly fashionable sweater that was used to wrap something. A picture frame sat inside, on that picture was a family. Not a cult… A family. In the picture, stood two boys, a few years between them. A father stood behind the boys, and a mother sat with a small boy on her lap. The family looked so happy.
The father had a clear resemblance to Joseph and Jacob, although it was the mother that caught Carla's eyes. She had dark brown hair and green eyes. Her heart shaped face was quite beautiful.
The young boy had light brown hair and beautiful baby blue eyes. She didn't need to guess who the boy was. But as she looked closer she noticed the small bruises on the small boy and his mother. Jacob had large burn marks on his lower arms and Joseph had small scars on his wrists.
She opened the picture frame up and written on the back was "Seed Family," two names were crossed out, "Seed, with sons Jacob, Joseph and John." On the Picture was a folded piece of parchment in the shape of a square. Inside was the flowery writing of a woman.
"John my dear John… Please take this, know that I love you… More than I love anyone" Some words are scratched out to be unrecognisable. "Please don't forget to study hard in Law school and come back home when you can." Her name is scratched out.
"My mother…" John suddenly said, he was leaning at the door watching her read the letter. Carla suddenly dropped the letter back into the drawer, like a cat being caught with a mouse. "She was quite cruel in the end." John continued, not commenting at all on the girl going through his things. "She used to watch as my father whipped me."
Carla backed away from him, noticing his tone shift. "What was her name?" Trying to change the subject.
John watched her move around the room and he brought in a tea set. "Would you like some tea? I heard it can be quite soothing." He pressed the warm cup into her hands. "I promise it will make things better."
Carla distrusted John. "Why do you want me to drink it so badly?"
John smirked. "Can't I be rewarding for good behaviour? Since saying 'yes', you been becoming a good little Deputy…" He then looked down. "Oh, except going through my possessions. But I can look past that." He smiled.
She takes a sip. "I didn't know that you were… I mean…" She sits down on the couch, instinctively trying to make herself smaller.
"Happy?" He interjects, his face suddenly going cold like steel.
She couldn't help it. A quiet "…yes." Slipped out of her despite herself.
-John-
As he let the bliss take over he led her to sit down back on the bed. He sat himself so close that he could feel her breath on his face. The honey tea mixed with the white bliss flower was on her breath. His eyes were totally focused on the girl in front of him. He hated that she was so damn pretty, his father once said that, 'A pretty face could be a man's weakness. Don't let it be what makes you less of a man.' Like knee length skirts, his father was quite old fashioned.
Carla, the deputy, the scar of Lust carved into his skin began to beat. Incredibly, the word itself began to overrule his thoughts.
"…yes." He heard her say. It was quiet, almost meaningless, but what he wanted her to say.
'Yes' wasn't a word to John. It was an idea, a concept grafted into his subconscious by the brutal nature of his father.
Not THE Father, his biological father the one he shares with Jacob and Joseph. The man who he cannot remember the face of despite having his picture in his drawer. Truthfully, he hadn't seen that picture in over ten years, after wrapping it up in a shirt he hates. he could remember every single detail of his mother's features. But he couldn't determine the scratched-out name of his father. Joseph knows, and but he said that John must remember it himself.
"John?" She called out to John, her laugher bubbly and sweet when John smiled what looked like sweetly down at her. His eyes were big and glassy.
"Oh Carla, I told you that I would do something we would both regret if you didn't stay on the bed."
He saw her eyes suddenly widened and she opened her mouth to scream. His hand covered her mouth. She began to struggle.
-Carla-
Her voice was long since hoarse, she felt her mouth open to scream when he covered her mouth.
"What are you going to do to me?" She said.
Carla knew that she wasn't the best psychoanalyst on the team, but she thought that she was a good judge of character in an everyday scenario. This wasn't an everyday scenario. Her eyes were glassy and she knew she couldn't focus very well. Past that, her fear level for the first time in a while began to spike. The warm feeling that stirred in her heart when she first drank the honey tasting tea. Her eyes began to drift slightly and little white stars began to fill her vision.
John wasn't a bad man, but she wouldn't need a long list of evidence to suggest otherwise. He was defined by his codes and morals. His list of sins could only be cleansed with holy water. The scars he had riddling his arms of his sins was only the beginning of this man's pain.
"Can I do something so cruel that you may hate me forever?" John said, his childlike smile appearing on his face. "Say yes and I'll reward you." His eyes turned cold as steel. "Say yes Carla."
But why did a single word matter so much to him?
Yes… He'd said. Yes. What did she remember about cults? First step was saying yes, wasn't it? Saying yes to something simple... Non-conditional. But, this wasn't what their cult was, it wasn't blending into society, trying to psychologically twist their potential member's views. This cult wasn't nicely trying to gain new members. This cult had made its own state in Montana USA. They had taken over the county and cut off our communications with the outside world.
She didn't think he could steep any lower than what he had already done. Kidnapping her, shaming her and shooting her. She didn't want to risk his wrath either. "Yes." She said, feeling more and more unlike herself.
"Stand and close your eyes." He encouraged, his smile getting bigger.
She obeyed immediately, sort of excited at the same as being scared. She felt fabric cover her eyes and her wrists were in John's hands.
He led her through what felt like the whole house, her eyes still closed. The room felt colder. "I didn't tell you your sin Carla, we all have them. Mine are just… Well, skin deep." He chuckled.
The room they entered felt cold. She felt her skin shivering to the bone. The room was very cold.
She breathed in. She really wished she hadn't, the room smelled stale and musty. She sneezed.
"Carla," John let her hands go. "Remove the blindfold. I want you to see this."
She took of the blindfold, she was met with the dim light of what looked like a cold storage room. She noticed the boring teal-white coloured tiles were speckled with brown dots… As her eyes adjusted to the light, her eyes saw the small brown pools on the tiled floor. She looked up to John and noticed the most sinful sadistic smirk was written across his features. Her eyes soon were not on him.
Behind him, stuck on the plaster wall, was pieces of skin with a sin written on each. All the sins were there: pride, greed, lust, envy, gluttony, wrath and sloth.
"John…" She breathed in. Her throat beginning to grow a swollen felling from the need to vomit. She breathed in, out, in and out. Trying to calm herself out of going into shock. She normally could cope with the violent nature of police work. But her drug addled-self had followed the first instincts when seeing something so vile. "Were these on people?!" She let tears fall down her face. "You… Where are these people now?"
"They are the people who make up our ranks now." John smiled. "They said yes of their own accord, Carla."
She began to struggle to breathe… "My sin… You said… My sin…" She coughed, the disgusting old blood smell filling her nose. "Are you… Are you going to do this to me?" She began to shake… Her eyes began to fill with tears. "I'm going to die here… You're going to kill me."
"Or you'll kill me." John replied.
"Is that an option?" She asked more herself than John.
"I guess anything is possible now. Killing me won't stop the Great Collapse, Carla." John walked over to her, his arms caging her as he rubbed her shoulders in comfort.
John led her back the room, her head began to spin and her eyes drifted into the darkness. John caught her as she fell. John carried her body upstairs and placed her on the bed.
He walked over to the small wooden box he kept in his cupboard.
He pulled out his tattoo gun. His smile was truly sadistic as he looked at the woman on his bed.
