AN: Hey ya'll, sorry for the lack of updates recently. I have been thinking for ideas for this story and I finally had some, so here is the next chapter. I also changed the chapter, to something I thought sounded better. Anyway, that's all from me for now.
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Damon Harris was sitting in the lounge that belonged to his friend and collegue, Gareth Hayes, contemplating what they were going to do next. Alessa had already left Portland, and this was not good news. Damon wasn't a stupid man; he knew that if he failed to turn up at the church with Alessa then Father Rowan would have his head on a platter. Damon really did despise Rowan sometimes. Just the sound of the older man's brittle voice made Damon angry. No, not angry. Furious was a better word. However he still respected the other man, he had to: Rowan was their leader, and Damon would not disobey him.
Ever since Rowan had taken charge of the Order some years ago, things had changed drastically. Damon had felt, and still felt, that Rowan was not the right man to lead them. He was constantly making bad decisions that would affect all of them. Damon had often considered speaking to Rowan about it, but had then decided against it. He didn't want to admit it, but he was afraid of the other man. Rowan just had that look about him, like if you didn't do as he asked, it was your funeral. So, Damon always held it in and never spoke about his feelings to anyone, even Gareth. Still, he was worried for all of them, for the Order. He didn't want to see it go down in flames just because of Rowan's stupid mistakes.
It was funny, really. Damon had once had a wife, a family. His beautiful young wife, Janine, and two young children, Rebecca and Harlow, had been killed days after he'd become a member of the Order. That had been around ten years ago. For some reason, Damon didn't miss them. He'd always pondered whether he was meant for something better, something bigger than just being a husband and father and working the same old job every day of his life. Then, he'd been chosen by Morris to join them. Damon had been thrilled at the prospect of joining the cult, and when he accepted, his family had mysteriously vanished when he'd arrived home to tell them of the news. He saw his wife for one last time the next day, when she appeared to him, begging him not to leave. Then, she had vanished along with the children. He'd never seen them again, and was convinced that someone from the Order had dealt with them. Sure enough, when he met with Father Morris for the second time a few days later, there was something ominous in the other man's eyes that told Damon what he had wanted to know.
For some time, Damon mourned his family but tried not to show it infront of the others. He'd known what they'd thought of him, had heard them discussing him many times when they'd thought that he hadn't been listening. Yes, so maybe he had come across as quite a strange young man. His quirky appearance hadn't exactly done him any favours, either. With his long, lanky dark hair pale features, he was constantly the object of their mockery. At first this hadn't bothered Damon in the slightest. He'd had too many other thoughts on his mind to think about them. Then, they had began to confront him, asking strange questions that made no sense whatsoever. This soon began to cause discomfort for Damon, and it was then that he began to seek out ways to show them that they were all wrong about him, that they had always been wrong. Four days later, three of those men were found murdered in the dormitory Damon had shared with them. He hadn't meant to do it, but he'd been angry. He was still angry. He couldn't control it. When someone said something to him, he.. he..
I'd rip his fucking balls off and stuff them down his throat.
No, I don't mean it.. please.. I don't want to be like this..
After the incident (the case remained unsolved; nobody could work out what had happened to the poor boys) Father Morris requested that Damon come and see him. Damon obliged, for he liked Morris, who had made him a member of the cult in the first place. He and Morris had talked for hours, and then the other man had said that he, Damon, had 'great potential' and 'the chance to do something amazing'.
And so the years passed, one by one. All that time, Damon remained loyal to Morris, and to the cult. Then one day, Damon received word from Morris that Dahlia Gillespie, their leader, had passed away. Damon had been angry upon hearing the news, wondering what could have happened. He'd known Dahlia and had liked her a lot. He'd first met her around a year after becoming a member of the Order. She'd been just about the strongest, most dedicated woman he'd ever met in his entire life. So, what had happened to cause her untimely demise? And who would take over as leader, now that she was gone?
The answer came in the form of Father Rowan, who arrived a week and a half after Dahlia's death, and Damon finally got to know of what had happened to her. Apparently, 'Alessa' had been responsible for Dahlia's death. When Damon asked Morris who Alessa was, Morris just gave him a sidelong look and never answered the question. Damon would later find out, however, that Alessa was Dahlia's daughter, and that she had been killed in a fire at the age of seven. They'd neglected to tell Damon, however, that Alessa hadn't really died, but had been hidden away by the Order. For what reason? Damon never found out. At the time he'd guessed that he wasn't high up enough to know about what had really happened and all the facts regarding Alessa and her mother's death. Still, Damon had decided to direct all of his hate towards Alessa, since he figured she was the reason that the Order had been going downhill lately. They'd already turned him, made him cold, so he couldn't disobey them. He'd do whatever they asked and never ask questions. He was loyal and would always be loyal to them, no matter what. And right now, what he wanted to do, what he needed to do, was find that witch, and take her to Rowan. Then, the Order would make sure they disposed of her correctly. And then it would finally be over. They might have lost, but revenge was sweet, wasn't it?
Yes, Alessa was going to get what she had coming to her. Damon would make sure of that.
The sound of clanging china suddenly interrupted Damon from his thoughts. He looked up to see Gareth walking in, carrying a tray with small two teacups and a large pot of tea. Damon grinned. Gareth was known for his hospitality, maybe that was why he always had so many visitors. "What is it?" Gareth asked as he sat down in the old armchair opposite Damon.
"What do you mean, 'what is it'?" Damon asked impatiently, pouring himself some tea as he spoke.
"You just seem distant, is all," Gareth commented, "We're leaving tomorrow morning, you realize?"
Damon nodded grimly, "I know," he replied flatly.
"So, do you think we'll ever find out? Because if not, you know—"
"If we have to search the entire country, we'll find her!" Damon hissed loudly, glaring back at the other man, whose eyes widened.
"I'm sorry, Damon," he said quietly, "I didn't mean.."
"Shut up," Damon snapped, "Just shut up, Gareth."
There was a very awkward pause, in which Gareth sat, twiddling his thumbs, obviously wondering what to say next, and also wondering whether it would cause Damon to snap again. Damon just snorted to himself, silently amused by the fear showing in his friend's eyes. "Where is Phillip?" he asked finally.
"Father Rowan wanted to see him," Gareth said, voice trembling, "It sounded quite important. What do you think it could be about?"
"I don't know, Gareth, I don't know," Damon grumbled, and Gareth fell silent once again. Neither of them spoke for a long time after that, and Damon thought back to Gareth's words, and wondered whether they would really manage to track down Alessa afterall.
