Dear Readers,
Thank you so much for the wonderful reviews for chapter one! I have gotten a good response for this story so far, and it encourages me to continue. Now, I have some good news and some bad news. The good news is I am getting chapter two to you early. The bad news is I have no idea when I will be able to update after this. My cousin is flying in from out of state to visit for a few weeks, so I feel obligated to spend most of my free time with him. He is also a computer hog, which is why I will not be able to access this story for a while. I'm very busy throughout the day, and usually end up writing very late at night and going until early morning (From about 10PM to around 3AM). Since the computer is in the guest bedroom, I will have no chance to write for a few weeks. I already have four pages of chapter three written, and am hoping to finish that before he comes in this Sunday. If I do, I will try to find a time to update. If not, I will give you what I have so far of that chapter. I try to write an average of ten pages (or around 3,000 - 4,000 words) per chapter, so I am not sure if I can have it done by Sunday. Well, anyways, thank you for your wonderful reviews!
Sincerely,
Kodu
.:Disclaimer:.
I own nothing except my original characters and this plot!
.:Story Key:.
(Normal) Word - Normal Writing
(Italic) Word - Thoughts/Flashbacks/Letters
(Normal Quotations) "Word" - Spoken English (Unless otherwise stated)
(Italic Quotations) "Word" - Spoken Latin
.:Warning:.
Silas may seem out of character towards Damaris in this chapter. My reasoning for his treatment of her (and you will know what I mean by this after reading the chapter) is that 1) He thinks all women are lying deceivers, and 2) From all the stress put on him by Opus Dei ever since the Da Vinci incident, he has a short fuse.
.:Note:.
I enjoy smybolism and double meanings in many things, including this story. So far, I have hidden several messages hinting at both Damaris and Silas' personality (Both individually and as a couple) in their names, in their actions, and in their appearances. Also, I wonder if anyone has found the connection between their names? Here's a hint: read Acts 17.
I live off of reviews!
2
White Demon
.:Silence can be the tongue's most vicious rebuke:.
The first thing Damaris noticed was that it was not a wall. And it was male. She took in his height, his strange attire, and then registered that his hands were strikingly pale. Looking back into his eyes, she found him staring at her with a frightening intensity, and only just then noticed his iron grip on her shoulders.
So many thoughts raced through her mind, it was hard to grasp hold of one thing to say.
His voice broke her from her confused haze.
"You are coming with me." The words danced on his tongue and his strange accent melted her heart, but the meaning of them made her tremble.
"W-what?" she stuttered ungracefully.
Silas resisted the urge to raise an eyebrow at her comment and instead began dragging her towards the shadows just in case someone might see them. Forcing her against the wall, he used his body to stand as a barrier between her and freedom. The black of his robe covered her presence, shrouding them completely in darkness even if someone happened to walk down the alleyway. His body was so close to hers he could smell the sweet scent of her hair and feel the tremble of her body.
Damaris gasped at the closeness of this stranger. His musky, strong scent was overloading her senses and she found it hard to concentrate.
But she had to. Something he had said...oh, she had forgotten already! But it was important, it was life changing, it was...
"You are coming with me," he repeated, letting the words sink in this time. He couldn't remember the last time he had been in such close proximity to a woman, and he was finding it increasingly difficult to focus on the task at hand.
"Do not struggle, and you will not be harmed."
Damaris closed her eyes, willing this nightmare to go away. Maybe if she pretended he wasn't there, she would wake up? A few moments of silence passed, and for a second the girl thought maybe she really was asleep; but as the rain pelted down on her head, she felt the warmth of his body radiating just a few inches in front of her.
Gripping her wrists, Silas slung the girl around to move in behind her, her hands being forcefully held behind her back. The wind blew the edges of his cloak against the backs of her legs, and his hot breath tickled her neck as he lowered his mouth to her ear.
"Run..."
The cold steel of the monk's handgun pressed painfully into the small of her back, and the girl gasped in shock.
"...and you will regret it."
Swallowing the bile that had risen in her throat, Damaris nodded her head, and with trembling lips breathed a silent, "Okay."
She could almost feel his smirk, her body quavering violently as the wind and rain - and cold fear - chilled her even more.
"Good. Now walk."
> > > > > > >
This wasn't happening.
This was not happening!
Damaris was pushed roughly into the passenger seat of a Chevrolet Impala. Her mind, nearly shutting down from all the fear and stress, pointed out how much nicer this car was compared to the rust bucket she had back home. Well, her car was in a repair shop at the moment. She wondered what would happen to it if she never went back to pick it up.Nearly slapping herself for her thoughts, Damaris' breath caught in her throat as her kidnapper slid in beside her.
There was an awkward silence, but that was to be expected.
The engine roared to life, and with it the realization that this was, in fact, happening. Tears of fear, frustration, and anger raced down the girl's cheeks as she huddled closer towards her door, trying to get as far away as possible from the pale maniac sitting beside her. Before she could hold back, sobs spilled from her mouth, and she could do nothing to stop them.
Silas glanced at the woman sitting beside him as he drove through the busy streets of New York. Her tears were slowly creeping into his heart, making him feel a twinge of remorse, but he hardened his resolve and blocked out her cries. Now was not the time for regret. He had a mission to complete, a task to accomplish, and neither heart nor soul could stand in the way of his resolve.
"W-why...?"
That one shaky word seemed to break through his barriers like a gunshot. For a moment he considered ignoring the girl, but his conscious would not allow it.
"What?" he said calmly, forcing every emotion to leave his voice when he spoke.
Damaris sniffled and sat a little straighter, turning her head to gaze upon the figure of the man to have changed her life forever.
"Why me? W-why...t-take me...? I...I don't understand..."
The truth was, however, neither did Silas. Opus Dei gave the orders. He simply followed them. This woman was barely out of childhood - a college girl! What significance could she possibly be to his superiors? So he answered her the only way he knew how. Vaguely.
"God reveals all in time."
Damaris stared at him incredulously. She was a devout Christian, and loved the Lord. Every second of silence that had passed in that car she had spent in fervent prayer, asking God to deliver her from this situation. For him, her kidnapper, to even mention His name was mind boggling!
"Who are you?"
The words spilled out before she could stop them, and the question hung in the air like a tangible spirit. Silas stopped at a red light and turned his head to look at the girl. Bright blue eyes bore into teary golden ones as he took a deliberate pause of contemplation.
"I am a messenger of God."
Anger flared throughout her body as Damaris slit her eyes at the albino.
"You are a criminal!"
As soon as it had come, it was gone, and it left the woman more drained than energized. Water leaked out of her shining orbs and she buried her face in her hands.
Hot fury blinded Silas for a moment, and the light turning green was the only thing that stopped him from lashing out at the girl. Snapping his head back to the road, the monk clenched his teeth and took long, deep breaths.
"Lord, give me strength not to strike this woman," he prayed in Latin, his eyes still glued to the road. Those simple words seemed to calm him as he relaxed deeper into the chair. Surprisingly, he heard the faint sound of his captive uttering a shaky prayer through her hands, though he only caught a few words. When she had finished, the girl sat up and stared out the window as if in a trance.
"Are you catholic?" His voice was even, as it always was, but for once he had to actually strain to hide his emotion. Opus Dei victimizing unjust sinners was bearable, but to harm a fellow believer was nearly too much.
"Christian," Damaris whispered, wondering why he had asked such a question. "Where are we going?"
"God reveals all in time."
The woman merely sighed, laying her head against the window as they drove further and further away from everything she had ever known. It was a strange thought, but Damaris was literally driving away from her old life.
The rest of the car ride was silent.
> > > > > > >
It was quiet, and for once in Silas' life, it unnerved him.
Christian.
She was a Christian and, though they did not practice the same 'tradition', they had the same beliefs. It was strange to him, kidnapping someone who loved God just as much as he. Was this really His will? Would God think this just; to rip someone from their comfort zone - from everything they had ever known - and throw them into a situation that had yet been revealed to even himself? How would God react to a situation like this? He prayed for a completed mission while she prayed for freedom. Both prayers cannot be answered. But he trusted Him. Silas trustedthe Lord with every fiber of his being. God works in mysterious ways, and more often than not, man cannot see His plans in their entirety.
Damaris sniffled softly as she lay her head against the window once more. Her eyes stared sightlessly at the contours of the vehicle before the hazy cloud blocking her thoughts lifted. She nearly gasped at the opportunity that lay before her.
The door was unlocked.
Forcing herself to remain calm, the girl discreetly glanced towards her kidnapper out of the corner of her eye. His focus was entirely on the road and navigating the busy streets. Up ahead was a stop light. This was her perfect chance.
As the albino slowly pulled to a halt, Damaris flung open the door and threw herself out of the car, narrowly missing a speeding taxi on her way to the crowded sidewalk on her right.
Silas, caught off guard, abandoned the Impala and sped after his captive. The game soon became one of cat and mouse. His little mouse was seemingly lost in the throng of faces tramping down the streets, and for a moment he thought he might have lost her. A wave of shouts and a flash of black hair alerted him to her presence once again.
Running with all her energy through the crowd, Damaris unknowingly created a trail of angry people that would lead the albino straight to her. Exhausted, the girl slowed down and glanced over her shoulder, finding no trace of the kidnapper. Out of breath and panting, she bent over, leaning her elbows against her thighs, and took long, gasping intakes of air.
Something cold and round pressed into the middle of her back, and made her breath catch in her throat.
"I told you not to run," hissed that familiar voice, only this time is was dripping with venom. He pressed the gun harder into the girl's spine.
Damaris' legs nearly gave way from fright, but looking at the crowd of people all around them seemed to give her some semblance of strength. Her eyes were narrowed as she straightened up rather abruptly. Whipping around to face the frightening man, she gave him the coldest glare she could muster.
"You wouldn't dare shoot that thing here," she whispered harshly. "There are too many witnesses!"
Slitting his eyes, Silas gripped the girl's wrist and dragged her closer to his intimidating form. Gripping her chin, he forced her to look up at him while he, in turn, stared down at her with hot intensity.
"God is my shield," he answered calmly, though the look in his eyes burned with barely-controlled anger.
"God shields no sinner," she spat.
His hold on her chin tightened considerably, leaving finger-shaped bruises along the top of her neck. Damaris winced in pain and tried to wrench her head free, but the man's grip was too tight.
"You will burn for your words!" he yelled.
"You will burn for your actions!" she shot back.
Both were left panting for breath as the angry rebukes left their mouths. Ripping his hand away from her chin, Silas grabbed hold of her arm with a vice-like grip and dragged her down the closest alley he could find. Slamming her against a wall, he raised a hand and smacked her across the cheek.
"No deceitful woman will dare speak of condemnation in my presence."
Raising her hand to feel slick blood dripping out of her mouth, Damaris let out a sob while looking at the man with pure hatred.
"No criminal albino will dare determine what is condemnation and what is truth!"
He lifted his hand to smack her a second time.
"Do not speak against me!" he hissed.
The blow landed hard across her already stinging cheek.
"Do not hit me!"
Again he lifted his hand.
"Your words do not faze me!" he shouted.
Smack.
"Your blows do not hurt me!" she yelled.
Smack.
"Stop this insolence, or I shall beat you bloody and senseless!"
He raised his hand to strike her again, but she never spoke. Staring hard at the woman before him, he nearly collapsed from emotional exhaustion. Her head was bowed, a mess of black hair blocking her face from view, and her body was racked with sobs as salty tears burned trails down her bruised and bloody face.
Damaris openly wept, the tension and stress becoming too much for her to handle. Her face burned, and the tears - though comforting her soul - did nothing to quell the physical pain of their stinging presence. It wasn't fair. A few hours ago she had been sitting in her apartment, minding her own business. Now she was in the clutches of some maniac albino who had no qualms with beating her 'bloody and senseless,' as he had put it.
Silas nearly choked on the regret he felt as he watched the girl tremble in pain. He...he shouldn't have done that. It was ungodly. It was...cruel. Flashes of his father beating his mother flew through his mind as he forced his sobs down his throat. The albino gripped the wall to keep from falling to his knees in emotional turmoil. Tears of frustration sprang to his eyes, and he quickly wiped them away before they had the chance to fall.
Was that what he had become?
A woman abuser?
Bile rose in his throat, and he had to turn away from the girl for a moment to regain composure. Taking deep, steady breaths kept his body from trembling, but did nothing to soothe the aching pain in his heart. The memories came unbidden. Memories of his father's angry words, of his mother's frightened eyes; and of a pale little boy cringing in a corner as he watched it all.
'You're worthless,' he screamed, kicking the woman in her side as she scrambled backwards on the floor. 'You dirty wench! You deceiving whore!'
He bent down, grabbing a fist full of hair and dragging her half-way off the ground while she sobbed, and begged, and pleaded the entire time. He always smelt of alcohol, he could fill a whole room with it's sickening aroma, and the little boy knew his mother could pass out from the stench coming off his father's breath. The man forced her to look into his eyes, then asked her the question he had asked so often.
'Who did you sleep with? What freak paid you to carry his devil's spawn in your womb!' Spit flew from his mouth and onto the woman's face, the alcohol stinging her bruised cheeks.
'P-please! I-I l-love you,' she would cry as the man punched her harder.
'No son of mine would look like that! No son of mine would be a white demon!'
'White demon...' he repeated, as if forgetting something. Smacking his wife one last time before tossing her to the ground, the man started looking frantically around the room.
'White demon,' he whispered in a sing song voice. The little boy cried out when his father spotted him huddled in the corner. Before his young body could move, the man was upon him, beating him relentlessly.
'Hear that, beast?' he said, referring to his mother's sobs. 'You do that to her.'
A smack to the face.
'Each time you breath, she chokes.'
A knee to the abdomen.
'Each time you speak, she cries.'
Somehow he had gotten hold of a wooden table leg, and began to whip the boy across his back, while shouting various insults with each blow.
'Monster!'
Whack
'Devil!'
Whack
'Ghost!'
Whack
'Worthless, soulless, pale white specter!'
When his son could barely move, the man kicked him in the side and spat on his face.
'Every day you live,' He threw the wood at his wife, hitting her across the back and making her cry out in pain. 'She comes closer to death.'
Nearly to the point of choking, Silas clenched his teeth and said a silent prayer, trying to keep his mind off the images flashing across his eyes. The sound of his captive's labored breaths reached his ears, and he looked on her with sad eyes.
He wanted to comfort her somehow. Comfort her as no one had comforted him. Help her as no one had helped his mother. So badly he just wanted to promise it would never happen again! That he would never, ever harm her. But that might be a lie. For all he knew, he might have to kill this child for Opus Dei purposes.
Breathing shakily, the monk took a step closer towards his captive, placing his hands on her shoulders. This time, however, his grip was gentle.
Damaris, on instinct, shrank back from him, a small whimper of protest escaping from the back of her throat. His touch was dirty now. It seemed almost...slimy. To even be standing this close to a man who had beat her was enough to make her stomach churn. Ripping away from him, the woman stumbled towards a dumpster and gripped it's sides, retching on the ground beside it. She hadn't had any breakfast that morning, so when she had spilled the contents of last night's dinner, she began to dry heave.
A hand rested lightly on her back, only causing Damaris to hack and cough more violently.
"Get...away..."she said in gasping breaths before a coughing fit overtook her.
Silas instantly complied.
After watching her struggle in pain for a few more moments, he spoke up, his voice as emotionless as it had once been, though he fought through sobs of his own.
"Undoubtedly, the car has been moved by now..."
Damaris heaved painfully, taking long, deep breaths before letting them out in a wheezing fit. It was as if she were trying to retch out the very pain that settled sickeningly in her stomach.
Furrowing his brow, Silas stepped towards the girl and placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Stop that, you'll harm yourself."
Damaris gave him a look that screamed 'What more can hurt me?' before another coughing fit racked through her body.
"I.." cough "...can't..." cough.
Stepping up, the albino placed one pale hand against her throat and the other on her back. Pausing as if unsure of what to do next, the monk nodded slightly and began to lightly massage the girl's throat while running his fingers up and down her spine. He remembered those times the kids of his childhood taunted him because of his skin. How, on the worst of days, the verbal abuse had become more physical. A knee to the abdomen had soon become a daily occurrence for him, and it had always started a fit of dry heaving. On those rare days his mother took pity on him, she had comforted him this way - by rubbing his back and massaging his throat until the coughing had vanished, and only a dull ache was left in the pit of his stomach.
As he continued soothing the girl, Silas repeated over and over in his head the phrase he dare not say aloud.
I'm sorry.
Damaris shivered at his actions, but had to admit it was helping. The pain was slowly ebbing away from her body until she was completely relaxed. By the time she opened her eyes, her back was leaning into his chest and her head lolled against his shoulder. For some odd reason, she felt strangely cold when the man stepped away from her.
Flipping out his cell phone, Silas quickly dialed a number while keeping his eyes on the girl.
Damaris stepped gingerly away from the remains of her dinner and huddled against the wall, her bright golden eyes flashing around her surroundings.
"We will not be able to make our flight," she heard the albino saying, and a shiver went down her spine. They had been going out of state? The mere thought of flying for a prolonged amount of time beside the imposing figure was enough to make her want to retch again.
Eyeing the girl and seeing her reaction, Silas switched the conversation to Latin.
"What do you mean you won't be able to make it?" said the gruff voice from earlier.
"She has caused some...trouble. If you will schedule another flight, I can hold her until then."
The other line was silent for a moment. "Fine. The next one is tomorrow at noon," the voice growled, and the line went dead.
Clicking his cell phone shut, the monk turned back towards his captive. Grabbing her arm tightly yet gently, he led her discreetly out of the alleyway and towards a rickety old apartment building. Struggling with all she had in her, Damaris was considering screaming before her kidnapper's words stopped her.
"You should not have run."
"I know that already," she replied bitterly, motioning to her bruises.
Silas stopped, staring into her eyes blankly.
"You could endanger those whom you love."
Without another word, he dragged the girl towards the building, but her shout of protest made him turn around.
"Wait! W-what do you mean...?"
Once again those piercing blue eyes pricked Damaris' soul, but she ignored the uncomfortable feeling it gave her. A deeper sense of foreboding was slowly rising to the forefront of her mind.
"My...organization... They are not forgiving people."
Damaris was speechless as he dragged her on.
"What's that supposed to mean!" she said after a long pause.
Silas said not a word.
> > > > > > >
The room was small. The rickety bed lay in the far left corner, a table with a lamp in the far right, and a door leading into a grimy bathroom stood on the right wall. Layers of dust covered the walls, and Damaris didn't even want to know what covered the floor. It was disgusting, it was filthy, and it fit her situation perfectly.
As soon as they entered, Silas locked the door and went straight for the bathroom. As he reached the frame, he crooked his head and looked at the girl out of the corner of his eye.
"You may have the bed. Do not disturb me."
And with that he disappeared into the tiny room, leaving his captive alone.
Damaris would have sprang for the exit had she not seen him lock it. Instead, she slowly crept over towards the bed and lowered herself on the lumpy mattress. Closing her eyes, the woman sighed.
He had left her alone with her thoughts. And so she thought.
For long, boring hours she thought.
Damaris replayed the events of the day over and over in her head, tears springing to her eyes, until her mind finally rested on what the albino had said just before entering this nearly condemned apartment building.
Not forgiving people...endanger her loved ones...
Slowly, the meaning of her captor's words revealed themselves, as she soon uncovered them for the threat they were. Those of whom she loved could be killed. Her friends, Lance...
...Her parents...
Would she ever see them again?
Maybe. But if she...if she didn't...cooperate...then...then...
She didn't want to think about the consequences. She didn't want to think. Damaris couldn't believe that a week ago she thought her life had been stressful, with the beginning of final exams and all. Now...everything had spiraled to unimaginable degrees. First she was kidnapped. Then she was beaten. Now she finds out that her loved one's lives were being threatened.
And for what?
What did she have to offer this 'organization'?
Her mom stayed at home, and her dad was a pastor. She was a normal child born into a normal family. Her friends were normal, her school was normal, her life was normal! Who would ever think of hurting her?
The thought of what they might do to her friends and parents made her shudder.
Slowly, Damaris' eyes began to shut from the emotional and physical strain. Exhaustion was finally catching up to her. Right now, all she wanted to do was drift off into a deep, dreamless sleep.
But apparently God would have none of that.
A loud, pained sounding hiss came from the bathroom, making Damaris jump.
What on earth was -
A loud smack followed by a grunt cut off her thought. Stepping lightly towards the bathroom door, the girl placed her ear on the wood and closed her eyes, trying to focus on the sounds coming from inside. A light crunch sound was followed by a sharp intake of breath, then a string of words in another language. Damaris winced at the noises, and before she could allow her logical mind to convince her otherwise, she burst through the door.
What she saw would burn in her mind for all eternity.
There kneeled her captor, stark naked and white as the pale moon, lashing out at his own back with a weapon that left gaping wounds. On his right thigh was a metal device that dug into his flesh. Her eyes were glued to it, and she watched in a haze as blood dripped lazily over the purple and black bruises mangling his skin. Long, thin scars stretched in every direction across his spine and sides, and she could see where his most recent wounds were beginning to ooze with yellow puss. She was amazed he hadn't already died from blood poisoning with all the infections littering his body. As she scanned over his form, she failed to realize his bright blue eyes were burning into her until she glanced towards his face. Damaris gasped and stumbled backwards as the albino slowly rose from his kneeling position - deftly whipping on his robe - and stalked over towards her.
"I told you not to disturb me," he growled, the words rumbling deep in his throat, though his voice was still monotone.
The girl tripped over her own feet, landing roughly on the floor, but began scrambling backwards despite the pain. She closed her eyes against the image before her. The image of a pale white specter stalking closer to her helpless form, a trail of crimson staining the legs of his robe and pooling at the tops of his feet. Bloody footprints marked his path as he seemingly glided nearer to her trembling form.
"P-please..." she whimpered, bringing her hands up to block her face as if on impulse. "I-I didn't m-mean to..."
Damaris looked up to find her kidnapper hovering over her like the ominous presence he was. He stared into her teary golden eyes, not making any moves to strike her, though his blue orbs seemed to burn.The albino's towering form filled her vision, and his wide shoulders blocked any chance of escape.The girl huddled up into a ball, rocking her body back and forth, and began to weep.
For once in her life, Damaris felt small, and it scared her to death.
Silas looked at her in a mixture of disgust and regret. The bruises he had caused stood out in ugly splotches scattered along her cheeks and neck. Her tears turned her naturally pale skin an angry red. Those bright golden eyes of hers had closed, and he had the odd suspicion that, even if they were open, he wouldn't be able to find the fire that had once burned in them.
The next time Damaris looked up, her captor had vanished, but she did not dare move from her spot on the floor. That empty corner of the room had become the safest place she could find. Still weeping from fear and shock, the girl continued to rock herself to sleep.
As her eyelids closed and darkness overtook her, she could hear the faint sound of self-induced torture ringing in the background.
And as she began to lose consciousness, the last thing to cross her mind was disgust, while at the same time the last thing to cross her heart was pity.