PART 6
A TALK WITH EVIL
Merryl awoke with a start. She was blindfolded, but her other senses helped her get an idea of their surroundings. She could hear wind blowing through what sounded like a high roof, and the fluttering of birds that were nesting somewhere above her. She could smell a very musty sort of odor, and her nose twitched as some dust flew up her nostrils. It was hot, and stuffy, wherever they were.
She felt something round and wet press against her lips, and the voice of her captor spoke softly to her.
"Here, have some water."
She took several gulps, washing the dust from her mouth, hydrating her throat. When he pulled the canteen from her mouth, she spoke.
"Who are you? Why have you kidnapped us? Where are we?"
"Questions, questions, questions..." he whispered. She felt hot skin brush against her cheek, scrambling behind her head as long fingers undid the knot of the blindfold. She found herself gazing at the same strong chin and rough whiskers she had seen the night before. He breathed heavily, blowing some locks of her hair away from her face. "So many questions...and yet so few answers." He turned from her and walked away. Merryl took a good look around, and recognized the setting as a church, albeit a run down, depleted one. It was long out of use; the wood structures were all rotted and breaking to pieces. The religious articles had all been removed, except for one stained glass window that still stood, the sunlight pouring through it in bright red and yellows on the floor. She also found Millie, laying on a pew, her arms and legs tied. She was sleeping soundly, her pain seemed gone.
"Is Millie all right?"
"Your friend is in a recuperative state while the anti-venom takes effect. All she needs now is time and rest."
"Why?" Merryl asked as he stood in the multi-colored light pouring through the colored class. He gazed up at the image of a cross-imprinted on it, and seemed almost lost to the world. "You kidnap us, then save her, and now we're in a church? What is all of this?"
"We are awaiting the arrival of your white knight on his silver steed. Once he is here, we shall settle accounts once and for all." As he spoke he reached up and pulled his hood from his face. He then loosened his cloak and let it drop from his shoulders. Merryl saw short, black hair, and broad, masculine shoulders. He was not wearing those metal claws now, and to Merryl's surprise, his hands were actually quite fine. The skin was clean and smooth, the fingers long and rather elegant looking. What kind of hands where those? And artists, a doctor's?
"What are you doing? Why do you wear that thing? Are you trying to hide something?"
"I hide my face behind a cloak of shadows to keep the world from seeing my shame."
"What do you mean? Are you disfigured or something?"
"Yes...horribly so. I cannot even look at myself in the mirror without cringing back in fear. But still...I must remove my cloak now and then, lest I feel it will strangle me at times." He took a few more steps, reached down and picked something up. When he held it up to the light, Merryl could see it was one of the metal claws. He touched it, and the talons spread apart, glinting in the dim light.
"What are those things?"
"These are the talons that rend human nightmares. They seek out the sinners, to tear at their souls."
"Why are you talking like that? Speak normally, would you."
"Heh...what's normal?" he chuckled over his shoulder at her. "Besides, you are in no position to be making demands of me." He examined the claws a little more, and then placed it back down. He put his cloak back on, pulling the hood over his face once again.
"Why are you doing this to us?" Merryl asked him, her voice this time was one of sensitivity and openness.
"Do you believe in destiny?" he replied, "That all things are preordained, and cannot be changed by outside factors, no matter how forcefully they may come? In the end, we must all hold our heads high, and walk into the darkness to face whatever shadows life may cast over us..." he knelt down and picked up the chipped head of a small statue of Jesus Christ that had apparently been left when the church was abandoned. He rolled it in his hands, seeming to be mesmerized by it. "Nicholas and I...we have ever been destined for this. Our fates have been tied together from the beginning. And so they shall, remain tied, to the end..."
"I don't understand..."
"Are you familiar with the Old Testament?" he said as he turned to face her. The question was sudden, and left Merryl speechless. He strode forward, throwing the small Jesus head aside. It shattered on the floor, the echo of its breaking reverberated through the old building. He stood before her, his hot breath against her face. "The story of Cain and Abel? How it was wicked Cain who struck his brother down, and carried the stains of Abel's blood on his hands forever? Nicholas and I...we both carry many stains. But tonight, one of us shall be washed clean of them, forever."
"But..."
"No more questions!" he hissed, slapping her hard across the face. It threw her head to the side, and tears of pain stung in her eyes. "You had best conserved you energy for tonight. And pray that Nicholas does not run from me like the coward I have always taken him for."
He turned from her, thromped down the aisle, and left through the rotted doors of the church. Merryl remained in a stunned silence, whispering silent prayers for her safety.
Merryl awoke with a start. She was blindfolded, but her other senses helped her get an idea of their surroundings. She could hear wind blowing through what sounded like a high roof, and the fluttering of birds that were nesting somewhere above her. She could smell a very musty sort of odor, and her nose twitched as some dust flew up her nostrils. It was hot, and stuffy, wherever they were.
She felt something round and wet press against her lips, and the voice of her captor spoke softly to her.
"Here, have some water."
She took several gulps, washing the dust from her mouth, hydrating her throat. When he pulled the canteen from her mouth, she spoke.
"Who are you? Why have you kidnapped us? Where are we?"
"Questions, questions, questions..." he whispered. She felt hot skin brush against her cheek, scrambling behind her head as long fingers undid the knot of the blindfold. She found herself gazing at the same strong chin and rough whiskers she had seen the night before. He breathed heavily, blowing some locks of her hair away from her face. "So many questions...and yet so few answers." He turned from her and walked away. Merryl took a good look around, and recognized the setting as a church, albeit a run down, depleted one. It was long out of use; the wood structures were all rotted and breaking to pieces. The religious articles had all been removed, except for one stained glass window that still stood, the sunlight pouring through it in bright red and yellows on the floor. She also found Millie, laying on a pew, her arms and legs tied. She was sleeping soundly, her pain seemed gone.
"Is Millie all right?"
"Your friend is in a recuperative state while the anti-venom takes effect. All she needs now is time and rest."
"Why?" Merryl asked as he stood in the multi-colored light pouring through the colored class. He gazed up at the image of a cross-imprinted on it, and seemed almost lost to the world. "You kidnap us, then save her, and now we're in a church? What is all of this?"
"We are awaiting the arrival of your white knight on his silver steed. Once he is here, we shall settle accounts once and for all." As he spoke he reached up and pulled his hood from his face. He then loosened his cloak and let it drop from his shoulders. Merryl saw short, black hair, and broad, masculine shoulders. He was not wearing those metal claws now, and to Merryl's surprise, his hands were actually quite fine. The skin was clean and smooth, the fingers long and rather elegant looking. What kind of hands where those? And artists, a doctor's?
"What are you doing? Why do you wear that thing? Are you trying to hide something?"
"I hide my face behind a cloak of shadows to keep the world from seeing my shame."
"What do you mean? Are you disfigured or something?"
"Yes...horribly so. I cannot even look at myself in the mirror without cringing back in fear. But still...I must remove my cloak now and then, lest I feel it will strangle me at times." He took a few more steps, reached down and picked something up. When he held it up to the light, Merryl could see it was one of the metal claws. He touched it, and the talons spread apart, glinting in the dim light.
"What are those things?"
"These are the talons that rend human nightmares. They seek out the sinners, to tear at their souls."
"Why are you talking like that? Speak normally, would you."
"Heh...what's normal?" he chuckled over his shoulder at her. "Besides, you are in no position to be making demands of me." He examined the claws a little more, and then placed it back down. He put his cloak back on, pulling the hood over his face once again.
"Why are you doing this to us?" Merryl asked him, her voice this time was one of sensitivity and openness.
"Do you believe in destiny?" he replied, "That all things are preordained, and cannot be changed by outside factors, no matter how forcefully they may come? In the end, we must all hold our heads high, and walk into the darkness to face whatever shadows life may cast over us..." he knelt down and picked up the chipped head of a small statue of Jesus Christ that had apparently been left when the church was abandoned. He rolled it in his hands, seeming to be mesmerized by it. "Nicholas and I...we have ever been destined for this. Our fates have been tied together from the beginning. And so they shall, remain tied, to the end..."
"I don't understand..."
"Are you familiar with the Old Testament?" he said as he turned to face her. The question was sudden, and left Merryl speechless. He strode forward, throwing the small Jesus head aside. It shattered on the floor, the echo of its breaking reverberated through the old building. He stood before her, his hot breath against her face. "The story of Cain and Abel? How it was wicked Cain who struck his brother down, and carried the stains of Abel's blood on his hands forever? Nicholas and I...we both carry many stains. But tonight, one of us shall be washed clean of them, forever."
"But..."
"No more questions!" he hissed, slapping her hard across the face. It threw her head to the side, and tears of pain stung in her eyes. "You had best conserved you energy for tonight. And pray that Nicholas does not run from me like the coward I have always taken him for."
He turned from her, thromped down the aisle, and left through the rotted doors of the church. Merryl remained in a stunned silence, whispering silent prayers for her safety.