The Saints' Devil

XLII

*WARNING-MATERIAL BELOW MAY BE TRIGGERING TO SOME READERS*

Nightmare Mode

"You're the reason I could never get anything good in my life," her father spoke to her, grabbing a fistful of her hair and forcing her head back, her body limp as she remained tied to that chair.

However, for some reason, the face of her father seemed distorted. She recognized his voice, but his face did not look like her father. It looked as if it was melting, his eyes were blurred and distorted and his face looked like hot candle wax, dripping and oozing. 

"I'm gonna kill you, you're gonna die here alone."

Alone? Her eyes darted past her father, finding the chair where Frank should've been, was empty. "Where is he?" she shouted, her voice echoing.

"It's too late," he said, his hand holding a knife and suddenly slashing her throat open.

Her eyes shut so tightly but she felt no pain. She opened them again, finding she was no longer in that room but in her childhood home. She stood like a shadow over her younger self, watching a memory.

"You're always gone!" her father screamed at her mother. Her mother was a blur, she could hardly recall what she looked like. "Where the fuck have you been, huh? You fuckin' around like some slut?!"

She watched as his fist came down and struck her mother. However, her mother struck him back, causing him to grab her hair and pull her back. "Fuckin' let me go!" she screamed at him. "You know where I been."

"Oh, right. You been with those bikers, you fuck 'em too, huh?"

"God!" she screamed, pushing him away. "I am doing my job as future President of the club, I ain't fuckin' nobody!"

"You fuckin'--" he began, grabbing her as she tried to run away.

She watched as her mother reached out to her but, before she could reach her own hand out, she fell out of the scene, like a tissue sinking in a puddle of water.

Then, she was at the orphanage. The living hell. Of course, the orphanage she was forced into was attached to an old, Gothic Catholic church. The building was dark and haunting, she always thought she heard angels weeping in that dark and sad place. 

Sister Giselle was head of the orphanage. She was a mean and nasty woman, constantly spewing how she was doing God's will and that God told her to do every single thing in her life.

Including beating the children, sexually harassing them, and mentally abusing them. All of the other girls were quick to keep their mouths shut and follow the rules with their heads down but Charlie was never that type. Sure, she kept her mouth shut but she was disobedient. She'd sneak out at night to sit in the Cathedral, staring at the stained glass or she'd steal food for some of the girls or cheat during tests.

The one and only reason Sister Giselle hated her was the fact that Charlie managed to make the other girls laugh and smile. To her, that was against God's will, having the children be happy, and so she often punished her on that alone.

She suddenly saw Sister Giselle, her entire face black, the same nun attire on with the rosary tightly wrapped around her left wrist. She towered over her, suddenly twice the height she remembered. 

"You are a poison to this world, child," she said, her arm lifting to swing down at her and the closer it got to her, the larger it got until she was surrounded by darkness.

Her eyes shut tightly. She was unaware of what was happening. Had she lost consciousness after being tortured by her father again? What was happening?

When her eyes opened again, she saw the first man she fell in love with after her turbulent past. Mikhailov's son, Viktor, had been the first man she fell in love with. At least, she thought it was love. 

She met him at a bar while she was in between finding a place to stay. He caught her eye and she his. One thing led to another, and you can guess what happened. Their relationship blossomed but, suddenly, he became a lot more aggressive and he turned out like everything else in her life; shitty.

Viktor stood before him, his body giving off smoke and his face smudged, like ink that hasn't dried on paper. "I told you not to go anywhere," he said, removing the belt from his pants, the belt looking to be spiked and slithering like a snake in his hands.

"N-No!" Charlie called out, watching as he swung the belt in her direction.

The spiked belt wrapped around her throat, tightening the more she tried to get it loose. 

She shut her eyes. This is a nightmare! It's a nightmare! It's not real!

"None of this is real! It's all in my head!" Charlie tried to reason, her body tingling with fear.

Her eyes remained shut, until she realized the belt was no longer around her throat. Opening them cautiously, hoping the nightmare had ended and she could rest easy.

However, the people who hurt her most in life all stood around her. Distorted and disfigured, eyes glowing and boring down into her. 

"You will die here, Charlie," they all said in unison, moving towards her.

Her eyes widened with fear and she tried to turn and run away, but she went no where no matter how much she moved her legs. 

They reached out their hands, grabbing her arms, her arms burning where they touched. She tried to fight them off but they drug her down into a pool of thick black liquid. She reached out, trying desperately to grab onto something but she continued to be pulled down, her head engulfed by the darkness.

I apologize if any of this was triggering to you. 

Charlie better hold on though, I'm getting a little scared.

Also, I am ALWAYS listening to you guys and your comments. I really love them all and I take them all, even if it's criticism or straight up hate :) I really love this book so much because of all of you.

Please continue to vote and comment, it helps me out a lot. I love and appreciate you all!

With care,
D. M. Brightwell