CHAPTER TWO – Devil's Spawn

Not much after I was led away was clear to me when I woke up. Sun streamed in, and dust particles floated in the air around me.

The little girl from last night, Sarah, came in through the door. "It's time to get up and ready yourself." She took my hand and we walked outside to a clearing near a barn. I had no idea where I was in relation to my position last night. I hurt too much to even worry about it.

I flexed my hands, and the scabbed over gashes re-opened and I grimaced.

We met Isaac in the clearing. Beside him was Malachai, with a bandage over the wound on his face.

"Remove your shirt." Isaac commanded.

"Uh, excuse me?"

"The lashes, outlander. You deserve to bleed." Malachai snarled.

"You're lucky I didn't kill you, boy." I retorted, spitting at his feet.

Rage flared within him again and he tore open my shirt and spun me around. Red flags went up in my mind. I crossed my arms, put on my game face, and awaited the lashes.

Nothing came.

Malachai and Isaac were staring at my back.

"Lashes. Now, please. I'd like to have time to heal."

Isaac looked at Malachai, and his poker-face returned. "Ten, Malachai."

I barely felt the first sting. The next nine increased in pain.

"That's enough!" Isaac raised his hand to Malachai, who dropped the whip, and clutched his ribs.

I slumped to the ground, and tried to regain my breath. Malachai knelt in front of me, grabbed me around the neck and whispered into my ear, "night is coming… We'll see how well you fare." He then stood up, and pulled me to my feet by my arm. I winced as my skin tightened, making the welts on my back burn. "Isaac," Malachai announced, "do He Who Walks Behind the Rows speak about this interloper?"

Isaac slowly paced around us, looking me up and down. "He speaks, Malachai. He always speaks to me." The boy stopped, approached Malachai and glared up into his face. "You are responsible for her."

Malachai and I gaped in unison, and I blurted out, "WHAT?!"

That earned me a hand over my mouth and an angry Malachai, "speak NOT, outlander, unless you are told!" The redhead returned his gaze to Isaac's. "I am responsible for this…? Why Isaac—"

Isaac raised a hand and silenced his henchman, "Our Lord has spoken to me; he has chosen you. If she escapes, you are the one who will be responsible, and you will be put to death if she is not found."

"Why was I chosen?"

"He Who Walks Behind the Rows knows your strength—"

"Isaac…" Malachai protested, only to be screamed at.

"DO NOT QUESTION MY JUDGEMENT, YOU FOOL!" With that, Isaac stormed off and left me in the hands of his loyal henchman.

Malachai forcefully released me and ordered me to follow him.

Not wanting – or able – to put up a fight, I obliged. We walked in stoic silence, walked without looking at each other, and walked quickly. It was apparent he either had somewhere to be, or he wanted desperately to be rid of me.

He led me to a run-down shed and told me I was to remain outside while he went in. I kicked at the dirt around my feet and sighed, looking up at the sky.

This Malachai character was something else. It was probably irritating to him that I matched him in fury, and had the ability to dominate him in a fight… Although the next time he attacked I didn't know if I could withstand the tremendous strain it put on me. I certainly didn't enjoy the exhaustion the anger brought on.

The beatings only ever got worse as the days wore on.

It hurt.

I built a barrier; no one could come in, no one could break me.

My heart hardened. An emotional breakdown was the last thing I needed.

By the time Malachai resurfaced, I had wandered to the house beside the shed. It too was run-down, creaky, and dusty. I ran my fingertips over the splintered wood of the door. The entire town, when I thought of it, looked ravaged. I decided to put that behind me.

Malachai stormed up to me, demanded to know why the hell I had left.

"I only walked like three fucking yards! Fuck off, dipshit!" I yelled, getting red in the face.

"By God, you are so… BELLIGERENT!"

"You don't even know what that means!"

"SHUT UP, OUTLANDER! I'll slit your throat!"

"Your God will smite you, fucker!"

He smiled, "Isaac won't be here to stop me, and it will be well worth it to be rid of you! The crows can pick you over!"

"You do remember what happened the last time you tried to take me down?" I folded my arms, and withdrew mentally from the verbal fight. "I'm not afraid of you, Malachai," my voice was softer, but defiant nonetheless.

He huffed, put off by my sudden lack of pugnacious-ness. I followed him, silent once more, into the house I had been investigating.

He showed me to a room. It was small, shitty, and reeked of mildew and rotting wood. Or dead animals. Or both. I gagged against the stench and turned to leave.

"You'll get used to it."

"I'm not staying in this shit hole! There are plenty of other fucking empty houses here that probably smell better! Or is this where you keep all of your prisoners…? Do they die here and you fertilize your corn with them?"

Malachai chuckled, "no, but I can keep a better eye on you if you're in this house. It is where I also stay. Isaac holds his sermons in the church beside this house. There is no way out."

I raised my lip defiantly. "So what, do you sleep with me too? Babysit me night and day?"

He shook his head, "no. Once Isaac trusts you, you belong to us."

That was a lovely thought. Belonging to a homicidal cult of pagan children. Just peachy. I forced a sarcastic, wistful smile. "I just hope you like to get your ass beaten."

Malachai glared at me, "shut your mouth, pest." He departed, and slammed my door, and the door to his room. It was down the hall.

Fucking… fantastic.