My breath quickened as my acceleration increased, my heart nothing but a turbulent drum within my aching rib cage.
He couldn't see me, no, not like this. I knew how mortified he'd be, so I had to hide! Right there and then I wished that an abyss could magically appear within the center of the earth and swallow me up whole.
I found a broken pillar as my refuge, hiding myself from his view. I shut my eyes tightly and murmured a quick prayer under my breath.
His heavy footsteps suddenly came to a halt, but his heavy breathing filled the room.
"Amber!" He called out. I could hear the rage dripping from his beautiful, almost melodious voice.
I held my breath and prayed so hard that it felt as if though my soul was crying out to God.
"It's okay," he spoke again, his voice now injected with a deep pain. "Please, it's okay, we'll fix this, you can still be saved, I'll save you, I promise!"
My heart suddenly felt like it hosted a large boulder because it was so have with pain. I wanted to believe him, I wanted to make his pain go away...
But what was the use? Five months? Five months would be over in a matter of no time and then what? Wasn't it blatantly obvious? He'd go to his Father in heaven, and me....
I would burn with the rest of us in the Lake of Fire. It was too late to do anything about it, the time of salvation was gone and now we would die.
I heard him scream in agitation. I could feel his fury radiating within the ruins of what was left of what was once known as the White House.
The slit in wrist started to ache, I had to go give my offerings to the King as soon as humanely, or else I would have a deathly price to pay.
I looked at my tattoo... Three snakes aligned together, curled up into sixes... Triple six... The Mark of the beast...
We needed it... Without the mark, you were left to perish, to die... The book of revelations had come alive... All of its events were falling into play. The raptured ones were lucky, like my parents...
I felt bitter towards them, they had raptured and left me here on earth to die, alone. Sometimes I wondered if maybe I had wasted my time, going to church every Wednesday and every Sunday, listening to my father preach... Wearing horribly long dresses respectfully, everywhere I went...
God turned against me, and that is why I did the same... I accepted the Mark of the beast, I embraced it. It was either that or torture... Pain and suffering... No death...
It was all okay, it was all worth it, until I met Jude... Jude Preston, was the most beautiful being in existence, inside and out. Jude had accepted the path of light, the most difficult path to endure, I could see it in his bright soul. His soul was so beautiful and unsoiled, that it hurt to even look at him.
I had fallen in love with Jude, but knew that he wouldn't love me, not as long as I was a rebel against the Lord, so I had pretended that I was one of the Sufferers, the Believers, carefully hiding The Mark from him for the past few weeks...
Until a while ago when he saw me giving my offering in the White House... The pain that had consumed his beautiful features had practically ripped me apart, what was I going to tell him? 'I'm a satanist but I love you even though you're Christian?'
It would never work... I was damned, he deserved better, and that's what I was going to make sure he got 'better' at all costs, even if it meant risking my life and my happiness.
