Chapter 2 – The Meeting

The door made a soft click as Margaret Holloway entered, her heels tapping sharply against the wooden floor. The other three men were already seated, each of them the embodiment of Shepherd Glen's ancient legacy. Adam Shepherd, the sheriff, sat stiffly in his chair, resting his hands as he surveyed the newest arrival with a quiet, calculating gaze. Next to him, Dr. Martin Fitch was nervously polishing his glasses with a trembling hand, thin frame hunched over as if a heavy weight was on his shoulders. Across the table, Mayor Sam Bartlett slouched in his seat, reeking of whiskey as he took another sip. His bloodshot eyes darted briefly as Holloway entered but quickly returned to the bottle in front of him.

"Gentlemen," Holloway said, voice with the authority of someone who was used to being obeyed. She moved to the head of the table, the seat of power in the room. Her eyes looked over each of them, lingering longer on Bartlett, who muttered something under his breath.

She chose to ignore him for now. They would get to that in time.

The room fell into silence as she stood there, waiting for their full attention. There was tension in the air now, something that had been brewing for years, just under the surface of the town's fragile peace.

"We are on the brink," she began, voice firm and authoritative. "Our beloved town's 150th anniversary is upon us. With it, the sacrifices must be made."

She looked at each of them in turn, her expression hardening. "This is not a choice. Not a matter of debate. Never has been, and never will be. The Order demands it, it always has. Tradition is what binds us, gentlemen. Without it, without the Order, without the sacrifices, Shepherd's Glen is nothing. We are nothing. We would descend to chaos, living like animals. The Order is everything."

Bartlett, slouched in his chair, rolled his eyes, and then took another swig of whiskey, not even bothering to fill his cup. He muttered loud enough for everyone to hear. "Everything to you…"

Holloway snapped her attention to him, eyes narrowing into sharp points. "What was that?" she demanded, voice cutting through like a whip.

Bartlett shrugged, though he trembled as he set the bottle down. "I said, everything's to you, Margaret, Always about the Order. Always about tradition. Meanwhile, the rest of us-"He immediately cut himself off, as he realized he was treading on dangerous ground.

Holloway's lips thinned into a tight line as she leaned towards him, her voice a dangerous whisper. "Do not mistake your title for real power, Sam. You may be the mayor, but as the head of the Order, this is my town. You're here to cut ribbons, kiss babies, and smile for cameras. Nothing more."

Bartlett's face flushed, but he had nothing to say. He knew better than to push things further.

Adam Shepherd, meanwhile, sat in his seat quietly. He kept his face unreadable as the exchanges unfolded before him. He had seen it all play out countless times before Holloway exerting her control over the others, Fitch cowering, and Bartlett drinking himself into a stupor. None of this was new.

But something else was simmering tonight. Adam's mind was elsewhere, far beyond the confines of this room. His thoughts, memories of the last time he had tried to defy the order.

It had been over ten years ago. He was a younger man then, more hopeful, more foolish. Upon the death of his father, it had become Adam's responsibility as the new head to join the Order. He'd refused, dared to question the sacred rites. They answered his defiance with cruelty. His sister, his beloved Mary Shepherd, had been afflicted with an illness no doctor could explain. She suffered with her husband, James Sunderland, a man caught in the crossfire. Her once bright blue eyes dimmed as the sickness, the curse, ravaged her body. Adam had been forced to watch from afar as she withered away, powerless to save her.

He hadn't forgotten the lesson. The Order's demands were absolute.

But that didn't mean he had given up. No, far from it. As Judge Holloway was droning on and on about the importance of tradition and their duty to uphold the sacrifices, Adam was biding his time. Waiting for the right moment. That moment was fast approaching. The town's anniversary, the sacrifices, it was all coming to a head. He wasn't about to let the Order take anyone else he loved. Not again.

"Adam?"

Holloway's voice jolted him from his thoughts. She was staring at him now, eyes sharp, and impatient. "You've been quiet this whole time. We need to be unanimous on this."

He blinked, keeping his face neutral as his eyes met hers. "Of course." He finally said, remaining calm, though on the inside, his resolve was hardening. "I will agree to the plan."

Holloway nodded and clapped her hands, satisfied. Though, she kept her gaze on him. She sensed something, but Adam had always been good at hiding his thoughts. He had learned that from his father. In Shepherd's Glen, survival often depended on one saying a thing, and meaning another.

Next to him, Dr. Fitch cleared his throat, still cleaning his glasses with the corner of his sleeve. His hands shook as he spoke. "It's… it's for the good of the town." He mumbled though it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than anyone else. "The sacrifices are… necessary."

Adam glanced back at Fitch, a man whose weakness had become a mark of his presence at these meetings. A doctor by trade, but nothing more than a puppet for Holloway. His hands always shook now, Adam couldn't tell whether from guilt or fear.

He glanced over to Bartlett, who had stopped drinking for a moment. Bartlett barely contained his frustration. He knew his role like the others, but that didn't mean he'd have to like it. Holloway never let him forget he was a meaningless title that meant nothing. The real power in Shepherd's Glen lay with the Order, and Holloway had taken every opportunity to remind them all of that.

Adam leaned back in his chair. Bartlett, the drunken mayor, has no real power. Dr. Fitch is a weak-willed man, too scared to stand up for himself. And Holloway, Judge and head of the order controls them all like pieces on a chessboard. These people he was supposed to trust with the town's future. The people who already sacrificed too much would continue demanding more until nothing was left. He was running out of friends, he was sure half the people in town belonged to the Order, and the other half knew nothing about it. Sure he had his deputy, but that wasn't exactly an army.

Holloway continued outlining details of the coming sacrifices. Adam's mind wandered again. He had agreed to this tonight, as he always did. But deep down, he knew he was already planning rebellion. He had been preparing for months, ever since the anniversary date was set. He knew the town's secrets, the dark history, and he knew he had to break from the Order's grip.

War was coming. It was inevitable. When it did, Adam had to be ready.

"Adam?" Holloway asked again, her tone sharp.

He crossed his fingers and met her gaze again. Expression calm. "I'm with you." He repeated though it felt hollow. He could see the look of suspicion in her eyes, but she was satisfied for now.

"Good." She said, leaning back on her chair. 'Then it's settled. The sacrifices will commence as planned. The Order demands it, and we fulfill our duty."

Bartlett muttered something under his breath, but Holloway ignored him this time. She kept her focus on Adam. She knew Adam was critical in this. As a descendant of the Shepherd family, his role was key to this. And yet, she sensed a shift in him, a reluctance that hadn't been there.

"You will fulfill your duty, Adam." She said, her voice soft, almost coaxing him now. "Your family's blood is the foundation of this town. We can't do it without you."

Adam met her gaze hiding the storm brewing deep within him. "I'll do my duty." He promised. But he wasn't thinking about the sacrifices. He was thinking about what comes after.

Holloway smiled, satisfied. "Good." She said. "For the town. For the Order."

Adam said nothing, his silence heavy. The meeting would end soon, and the others would leave. Adam was already planning his next move. He wouldn't be there for the sacrifices. This time would be different.

This time, he wouldn't submit, not like he did for Mary. He was going to end it.

Judge Holloway paced back and forth in her dimly lit office. Fingers tapping anxiously on the walls. A slight tremor ran through her hand, but she quickly clenched it into a fist. She watched the fog outside the window, but inside, she felt tension. She could feel her body rebelling against her, muscles tensing, and mind hazy. The familiar symptoms of withdrawal. The sensation was unbearable, but she wasn't about to let Dr. Fitch, of all people, see her weakness.

Dr. Fitch shuffled into the room, his meet demeanor evident as he slowly walked and kept his eyes down. He set the small black bag on the table in front of her, filled with what she had been waiting for. He looked at her with worry as he watched Holloway's posture. The Judge had always been a powerful figure. But lately, he had observed her and noticed the signs, the irritability, the shakes, and the look in her eyes. He opened his mouth to speak but hesitated.

Holloway cut him off. "You're late, Fitch. I need it now."

Fitch's eyes darted back to the bag as he stepped forward. He was timid but he voiced genuine concern. "Judge… are you sure this is a good idea? You've been-"

She slammed her fist on the table, face contorted in barely contained anger. "Don't start with me, Fitch! I don't have time for your moralizing. Since when have you grown a backbone?"

Fitch recoiled but held his ground. His oath required him to not harm, and he mustered the courage to meet her gaze. "You're… you're not well, Margaret. You can't keep pushing yourself like this." He wavered but continued. "You're running on fumes, and those… those pills aren't helping you anymore."

Holloway narrowed her eyes as she took a slow, deliberate step towards him. Her presence towering despite her physical state. She kept her voice low, venomous. "I've been taking these since long before you became a doctor in this rotting town. I took them to get through law school, through my time in the military, through every trial and courtroom where men like you would break. And now you think you know better?"

Her body ached. The withdrawal was hitting her harder today. She could feel the fog creep in around her mind, dulling her thoughts, and she needed clarity. She needed control. Fitch hesitated for a moment, fiddling with the strap of his medical bag. His concern was deepening. He had seen addiction, too many times to count in this town. But seeing it in someone like Judge Holloway, was unnerving.

"You're pushing yourself too far, Margaret. The pills… they're not going to keep you going forever. At some point-"

"Shut up!" she spat, taking another step forward. "Do you think I don't know what I'm doing? You don't see what's happening? I'm holding this town together. I'm the one keeping everything in line while you're scared of your own shadow, while Bartlett drinks himself into a stupor and Adam. While Adam betrays us! I am the only one with the spine to lead this town, and I'll be damned if I let it all fall apart because of some… weakness!"

Fitch's hands trembled, trying to find the words. "Margaret... this isn't strength. This is-"

"Don't you ever dare to lecture me on strength." Her voice was cold now, shifting from rage to an icy calculation. "I built my strength in the courtrooms, in the military justice system, in every corner of this country where men underestimated me. I earned my position through blood, sweat, and sheer fucking will. Don't pretend for a second you understand what it takes to do what I do."

Fitch swallowed hard, his heart racing. He could feel her gaze burning into him, but he couldn't shake the sight of her. Her face, once composed and severe, now looked worn, haunted by something more dangerous than the town's dark secrets.

"You can't keep this up." He said quietly. "It's going to kill you."

Holloway laughed a harsh, brittle sound that filled the room. "I don't die, Fitch. I don't fail." She grabbed the bag, and ripped it open, pulling out the pills she so desperately needed. With a swift motion, she closed her eyes and swallowed one, waiting for the familiar rush of energy and a return to control.

For a moment, there was silence between them.

Then she opened her eyes, and composure snapping her back into place. Her voice was sharp and decisive. "Now stop wasting my time. We have work to do. Adam is thinking of rebellion, and I need every ounce of focus to make sure he commits to his duty or suffers. You're either with me or in my way, Fitch. Choose."

Fitch hesitated for a moment, he knew the moral dilemma well. But Holloway hardened her gaze. He knew he had no choice. Ever since elementary school, he had been a follower, not a leader. And in Shepherd's Glen, those who didn't follow were swallowed up.

He nodded, reluctantly. "I'll do my duty."

She popped another pill as she turned away from him. The pills were becoming less effective. The power they once gave her was fleeting. And deep down, buried beneath layers of ambition, control, loyalty to the Order and to the Incubus, a small terrifying began to take root.

She was losing her grip.

But she would never let it show.

Fitch reached back into his bag and handed Holloway another bottle of pills. His worry was plain on his face as he asked. "Why aren't any of your… goons with you? You always have someone shadowing you, just in case."

Holloway shot him a sharp glare, cutting him off before he could say anything more. "Don't act like you can question me, Fitch. You are not here for a conversation. I certainly don't need a pack of followers to handle a weak man like you."

She snapped the bottle open, ignoring his look of concern as she swallowed a few pills dry. The pills were the only comfort she could rely on these days. Fitch shifted uneasily, still rattled by her temper, but Holloway wasn't interested in his concern.

"I run this town, Fitch." She continued with venom in her voice. "I run the Order, the courts, the law, it all bends to me. I don't need muscle to keep you and those spineless fools in line. All it takes is the right piece of paper, and your lives fall apart. That's how real power works."

Fitch flinched at her words. "You're… not yourself, Margaret. This addiction is taking over. It's making you reckless."

Holloway's eyes flashed with fury as she stepped towards him. "Reckless? I've fought my way through every courtroom, every battlefield, and every challenge thrown at me as soon as I was old enough to hold my own. Do you think some uppers are going to slow me down? You think I don't know how to control it?"

Her patience with Fitch was wearing thin. The room seemed to shrink under the weight of her fury, her body tensing as withdrawal fought to claw its way back into her system. The silence was suffocating, broken by only the ticking of the old clock on the wall.

"You think you can stand there and moralize to me?" Her voice was cold and biting. "You're in this just as deep as I am, Fitch. You've been supplying these for me for years. If you think you can stop now, you're mistaken."

Fitch meant to open his mouth to speak, but the words caught in his throat. He had known for a long time that Holloway was ruthless, but now she had grown more dangerous.

"You want to talk about morality?" she sneered. "Let's be clear. I know you've been over-prescribing to half the town, haven't you? You've lined your pockets from your little side business. And you think that if I go down, you'll still have a career left? We both know how that'll end."

Fitch stammered, and his face grew pale. "I- I'm just worried about-"

"Don't." Holloway stepped closer, whispering in Fitch's ear. "If I go down, I'll take you with me. Your name will be dragged through the mud, and everything you've built will crumble. Your practice, your reputation, everything. Finished. Mutually Assured Destruction, Fitch.

She let the words hang like a death sentence. Fitch felt a cold sweat form on his brow. He had always been afraid of Holloway, but this was different. This wasn't about pills or the town, or even the Order and its sacrifices. They were all just chess pieces. And in this game, Holloway was more than willing to burn everything to the ground if it meant staying in control.

For a moment, even Fitch considered walking away, leaving the pills on the table and never looking back. But Holloway's grip on the town, on him, was too strong. The consequences of crossing her were just too severe.

Resigned, Fitch let out his breath and nodded. "I'll get you more."

"Good Boy," Holloway said, satisfied, a small, cruel smile twisting on her lips. She reached into her coat and pulled out a thick wad of bills, and shoved them into Fitch's palm.

"That should cover your… services." She said with condescension. "Don't make me regret this. Keep the supply coming and no one has to know about your little side business. We keep things quiet. Everyone's happy."

Fitch stared at the money, but he knew he had no other choice. Holloway's grip was ironclad, and she wouldn't hesitate to destroy him if it came to that. He put the bills into his jacket pocket.

"Question me again, Fitch, and I'll make sure no one ever remembers you existed. Not even your precious daughter's ghost will whisper your name."

Fitch stood frozen, trapped in his fear. He knew better than to push her further.

"Good," Holloway muttered, slipping a pill bottle into her coat pocket. "Now get out of my sight. I have real work to do."