೦ Anna ೦

 

I can’t believe that he has left me like this.

Like this!

I don’t know for how long I have already stood here, a burning candle in my butt, that either burns me, when I keep it where it is, or burns my mattress and maybe even me, when I let it fall.

I don’t dare to move, not even an inch, or think of something else than contracting my sphincter around that candle stuck in there.

I don’t know whether I’m mortified, incredulous, angry, or desperate. I don’t know what to think, or to expect. My mind is empty.

I tried to put myself into his position, but I can’t know what he really went through. I don’t know what turned him into this monster. No. Wait. I know. His father. He turned him into this… whatever this is.

No.

I don’t let him do this to me.

I know he must be in there, somewhere.

He called me ‘little bird.’ Sam is in there. I just need to find a way to reach him.

But I’m not going to achieve that like this. I can’t let him break me, or force me into submission. No matter how hard he tries. I must be defiant, and fight. I can’t give up. How else will he understand that I’ve never given up on him? How will he even listen to me when I am weak like this? I don’t get his attention, he won’t listen, if he looks down at me, and regards me as nothing but filth, nothing but vermin.

I need to surprise him. I need to make him hesitate and rethink his actions. I need to make him listen.

So, I do the one thing he told me not to.

I swallow drily, and push.

The second that candle drops, I try to turn around, but the taut chain prevents me from doing that.

I can feel the candle bounce and roll against my left heel.

Don’t panic!

Holding my breath, I lift my left foot lightly and kick the candle off the mattress. I hear the noise as it connects with the cement floor. Quickly I shuffle my feet across where the candle could have set the fabric of the mattress on fire.

Nothing.

I inhale deeply and breathe evenly to calm down my rapid pulse.

Now, I will have to wait for Samael’s return and his reaction, that will come. He will be furious, or – if I’m lucky – surprised, but there will be consequences.

A part of me is scared and worried. Another one, this strange, perverted part of me, is excited. I can’t wait for what will come next.

I’m sick.

But not as sick as he is.

 

⌽ Samael ⌽

 

I stand there, in my kitchen, for a long time, staring at something I cannot see. When I come to, I cannot say for sure how long I’ve stood there, but the anger at myself has vanished, and along with it the desire to punish myself. After all, I did restrain myself. Maybe, with a little help from Anna, but I did not do anything that I was not allowed to.

I cringe at the thought, but what works for Anna’s mother should definitely work for her. Still, I need to get her out of my system. So, I go outside to do what I have planned to do and chop some wood.

Physical exercise always helps me clear my mind and soul of depravities that try to tempt me into sin. It will only take me a few minutes, and then I will go back and check on her, just to make sure that she will not burn herself.

That privilege is all mine. This thought makes me smirk and shudder in delight: A permanent mark on her body, created by me.

My father will never know. And Rachel will never tell. Even Anna would not. Would it not be perfect for her to stay Anna and pretend to be Rachel? What a perfect eternal torment.

I am completely lost in thought, so I notice too late for my skills that someone is approaching me and my house. Anger rallies in my chest and I swing my axe around, ready to attack.

Maybe, it is the sun blinding me. Maybe, it is my own wicked mind that is playing tricks on me. For a moment, a heartbeat, I am certain young Anna stands before me, angel-like, and the sun seems to create a halo around her honey colored hair. The girl is wearing a white dress, and her hair is hanging loose around her shoulders. But she is not Anna. She is one of those few being prepared by Rowena to transcend into womanhood soon.

Experience tells me due to her similar looks to Anna, my father will not pick her. That man’s anger towards her is still slumbering inside him, like a dying fire, ready to be ignited once he sees Anna again. It was what happened to the next girl, whose name had been Raina, which made me realize that I must train Anna first.

I buried Raina beneath one if my granny’s favorite rosebushes. By doing that, I defied my father’s direct order to take her away as far as possible from the church’s grounds. But it was my grandma’s final wish, that I will take care of the lost souls that my father will leave in his wake. I promised her at her deathbed on everything that was dear to me. A promise I would never ever break. The only one.

Because of my granny’s last wish Raina is now sleeping with my mother as well as my grandparents and all the lost souls my father ordered me to dispose of. A rosebush marking every single grave I have dug, and the three I was too young to dig myself.

I do not need to look at those rosebushes to know the amount. Raina has not been the first one of my stays, and she had not been the last.

“Why are you disturbing me?” I grumbled, and lower my axe. “Who sent you?”

No one dares to walk out to my secluded house, let alone approach me, unless someone of importance told them to.

The girl whose name I do not know and do not care to learn trembles and casts down her gaze, but I am able to see her reddened cheeks. She is flustered?

“Mistress Rowena sends me,” she responds, and forces her voice to me loud and clear – as instructed by his stepmother – obviously.

“You have not answered my first question,” is my response and I return to chopping wood, and pretend to not give her any attention, but I watch her closely.

“I’ve been chosen to become her apprentice and...,” she continues but I stop her right there, by throwing the axe at her, missing her by a few inches – on purpose.

This time, the girl rocks as if the ground beneath her was shaken by a tremor. The red in her face has been exchanged with white.

“Do. NOT. Say. It,” I point at her, bellowing.

She is terrified. Her body is petrified and she keeps staring at the ground. She does not dare to move an inch.

I have been back a week and I have not spoken or visited Rowena since my return. Ever since I told her that I know she is using modern medicine to heal the members of the church, I have stayed away from her. She found others to give her light, although she acted towards my father that this was still my duty.

And now, now Rowena tries to lure me back into her sheets by sending me a girl that looks like Anna?

“Inform her that I know my place and do not share her flaws,” I tell the girl, who nods quickly.

She is eager to run back home.

“And,” I add after a moment of deliberation. “Tell my father about this.”

The girl blinks in confusion.

“What is it?” I ask her, as I realize that she does not dare to say what is on her mind.

“Our Lord’s chosen shepherd knows about my new calling and approves of it,” she explains and it is me who is petrified.

But it is anger that freezes the blood in my veins.

The girl misunderstands my silence as a signal for her to continue.

“I am not to tell about anything that will happen here,” now she pauses and her face turns red again. “And I am to stay until I have received your... the holy light.”

I am furious.

I want to reach for the axe until I remember that I have already thrown it at her. I cannot think clearly. I don’t know how I will get myself out of this situation. My father himself sent this innocent girl to my doorstep, knowing that I would be furious, how I would feel about a girl looking like Anna.

With one breath take my anger has vanished and my mind is empty. My father has known all along.

My father knows what happens behind the closed doors of Rowena’s sanctuary, which only means that she knows what he is doing.

I turn my back on the girl this time. I cannot look at her. But all I see now are the twelve rosebushes.

“I am to stay here with you until you have given me enough light to do Rowena’s work. God’s work,” the girl continues, not giving me a moment of silence, so I can think.

Is my father testing me yet again?

Or did Rowena order the girl to speak those words so that I am tricked into doing what makes Anna call out for God in delight? So that she can blackmail me into staying silent about her betrayal. That must be it.

“The Lord’s chosen shepherd ordered you to obey Mistress Rowena’s wishes without hesitation,” the girl says, and sounds as if she is about to continue as I see a blotch of golden light next to me moving through the glass. That’s something which only happens when light is being reflected by something shiny.

I react instantly.

 

೦ Anna ೦

 

I can’t believe that Samael is waiting this long. The candle went out a long time ago and the smell of the dying flame has already vanished. By now, I’m sure, I would either be burning myself right now, or dropped it out of fear.

Samael must know when it’s time to return and stop the worst from happening. But he doesn’t, which makes me furious. But then, I worry.

What if something has happened to him while he’s away? What if he’s hurt? What if he’s never going to return? What will become of me?

With every heartbeat I become more anxious, and more worried, because I can’t accept the idea of me dying in here slowly, staved, parched, and naked. But the image in my head is Sam lying there somewhere bleeding to death, beaten to death. Or being arrested.

A glimpse of hope comes to life as I try to think of the possibility that my kidnapping might have been found out and that a government agency is now trying to find out where I am.

But, where am I?

Where is Samael keeping me?

Does anybody know?

Is he gone this long because the church doesn’t know where he is?

I might never be found should he be dead.

All of a sudden, I feel sick again.

No, he needs to come back. Safe and sound. I’m not ready to let him go, just yet. Not when I’ve found the strength to try and defy him. I didn’t even get a chance to reach out to my Sam within that monster.

“Please come back,” I whisper. “Come back.”

I must have fallen asleep, after that, because if not, this is spooky. Or he just watched me through that mirrored window the entire time.

Samael is back, and I know that because I can hear the sheer force he uses to yank open that metal door, which is undeniably heavy.

Electricity sizzles through my veins, as I’m scared and excited about his return. I can’t determine if he’s furious, or worried. All I know is that he is breathing heavily, almost labored.

Did he run back to me because he was late?

I know, by now he has seen that the candle is on the floor somewhere and hasn’t burned much at all. I know, he will deduce that I dropped it quite instantly. But I can’t stop and listen to his ragged breath.

He doesn’t come closer, and I wonder if he has picked up the candle and is deliberating about how to punish me accordingly.

Instantly, my body remembers what he did to me hours ago. I still feel his fingers up the wrong hole and my body recalls his tongue between my legs. Just like that, I’m back to where he left me.

His silence is worse than the hours of waiting, and worrying, not knowing if he will come back. Despite what he has done to me, I know I don’t want him to leave. I still believe that he will become my Sam again, silly me.

I don’t hear him move. I don’t hear him breathe.

I don’t know if he is here at all and if I imagined him returning.

That is, until he violently prods the candle up my butt, deeper than before. I didn’t expect this, which makes the pain so much worse. Sharp, stinging.

His hand hits me right between my shoulder blade as he presses me against the wall. Samael’s body is radiating heat like a sun rising over dead land.

I expect him to say something, anything, but he stays silent.

Something is wrong.

He is hovering there, inflicting pain on me, slowly pressing the air from my lungs. I want to breathe, but my ribcage can’t inflate. I begin to see stars. My ears start buzzing. I’m going to faint.

All that he does is create noise in the background. I know there is something happening, but it’s drowned by the singing in my ears. Until, suddenly, he stops pressing my chest against the wall. I inhale deeply, desperately, and only now, I begin to panic.

He almost killed me?

The rattling of the chain is still a background noise, and I only truly realize what he has done when my shoulders collide with the wall I’ve been staring at for countless hours and my head is not in a strange position. No, it’s enfolded by Samael’s large hands and he stares me straight in the eyes.

The candle is still stuck up my butt and now in an angle that is absolutely uncomfortable.

But I can’t think about that, apart from doing my best not to push it out this time and shift Samael’s attention. He’s so close, it makes me forget that I am cold, hungry, and thirsty.

I should be mad at him. I should be terrified of him. I should be disgusted by him.

However, all I feel is worry. But even this worry seems to fade away as I am being consumed by his gaze.

I want to ask him what’s wrong. I should ask him what’s wrong. After all, I have decided to show him that I am not that easy to break. But I know, I just know that if I speak right now I am ruining a chance of reaching him.

“Anna,” his whisper is so soft it makes me flinch, and that reminds me of what my sphincter is holding on to.

Yet, on top of that, the tone, the way he speaks my name, stings. It hurts and it soothes, it makes me tear up, slowly. It’s just my name. But the way he says it, means something. I just don’t know what.

Does he want me to answer? And if yes, how does he want me to answer? What am I supposed to say?

I search his eyes for something, anything. But that is the problem: there is nothing. They are two dark pools, two black holes, threatening to suck me in and consume me whole. It’s all that I want.

“You are my little bird, aren’t you?” His soft, almost inaudibly whispered question makes me blink, but he doesn’t leave me any time to think. “Are you?”

I nod before I finish deliberating. I don’t trust my voice. And a movement is not a vocal confirmation. More tears are gathering in my eyes, clouding my sight. But my head is still captured by his big hands, which are spreading heat into my body, the warmth of his body radiating onto mine.

Samael is bare-chested, once again. I can smell musk and sun. I can see his skin glistening, and the muscles beneath it are taught, yet beautiful. He has been outside and done something straining.

I have experienced his strength first hand, and his breathing was labored first, calming down with every moment he spends here.

“I would never harm you,” his voice is devoid of any tone now, but his words make me flinch once again.

If this is not harming me. What is it? Hurting me? Or is there something I did not think of? A hidden agenda, I’ve yet not unraveled?

“Never,” he repeats, and I don’t know if this word is just for him, or for me too.

Again, I don’t get a chance to finish my thought as suddenly his lips are on mine, barely touching me, kissing me chastely.

 

⌽ Samael ⌽

 

Only one thing casts such a clear and shiny reflection, and knowing that, my instincts kicked in, taking over, just like I was trained to allow it to happen. I take a backseat and remove emotion from the equation.

She had a knife. She leapt to attack me.

I defended myself. It wasn’t necessary to kill her.

It was just instinct. A trained action. Using the momentum of the attacker to drive their own weapon into a vital organ. In her case: the heart.

She died in my arms, looking up at me, surprise in her eyes. She had no idea what was happening to her. I cradled her, telling her that it was okay to sleep.

I still try to deduce who has sent her, as I throw the table aside, tear the rug away, yank open the trap door and race down the stairs, because too much time has passed since I left Anna alone with the candle.

My father, Rowena, or one of my brothers.

This can be the deed of either one of them. But it is not important.

I will have to dispose of the girl, officially. I will have to dig another grave in the rose garden, the thirteenth grave. And then I will have to leave Anna alone for several days to pretend that I take away the girl.

Finding the barely burned candle on the ground makes me stop dead in my tracks, and puts everything into a different perspective. I’m angry, I’m annoyed, and I am proud. The latter should not be.

Defiance is the one thing Anna should not feel.

Anger. Yes. Desperation? Yes. But not defiance.

But a part of me yearns for it. A part of me wants her to give me a reason to loosen my restraints, to set a part of me free that has been caged like a trapped animal.

Right now, however, this cannot be.

I must get back upstairs quickly and bury the girl before she is found. If she was sent by someone, this person will soon follow her. And before this person arrives, she needs to be buried and her grave needs to be hidden, so that I can plant a new bush on top of her final resting place.

So, I must discipline Anna. I cannot allow her to gather energy like this. Defiance is a strong power, but in the end, it will only ruin you. She must learn this. She must learn this right now. And that is why I am brutal towards her. Why I prod that candle up her ass, why I use the weight of my body to almost crush her, as I press her against the wall.

This time, her desperate noises do nothing for me. They do not create any pleasure. Especially not, when I see the girl, looking like Anna, dying in my arms.

Little bird.

I remember the times when I called her that. She was so innocent and pristine back then, unsuspecting of the world. I went out of my way to keep her like this. Just like the bird she saved and asked me to help nurse it back to health. To me, Anna was that bird, caught cruelly and put in a golden cage to prepare her for that day my father would clip her wings.

I hear myself ask her if she is still that girl, if she is still my little bird, full of life, full of innocence. That little bird looked at me differently. Eyes open wide, full of hope and trust.

There are tears in her eyes now, as I beg her to tell me that she still is the same girl I was ready to die for back then. I want to believe that she didn’t leave me that it wasn’t her decision to let me die, to not pick me up, to not cradle me in her arms, to not nurse me back to health.

But I can see fear in her eyes, and torment.

I can’t help but ask myself if I would have reacted the same way if it really had been her, carrying a knife, ready to attack me and trying to take my life.

I would never harm her.

Hurt her? Yes.

Violate her? Yes.

Make her bleed for me? A hundred percent yes.

Make her cry for me. A thousand times yes.

I kiss her before I know what I am doing, but I can’t stop myself either. The way Anna is tasting is so very different from everything I know. And I want to lose myself in it.

I can’t.

I cannot.

I kiss her like we have been lovers for that past six years we’ve been apart. I allow myself this moment of wrongfulness and treachery.

 

೦ Anna ೦

 

Just when I’ve stopped thinking all together, and start getting settled into this new sensation that comes so close to trusting, and hoping, Samael slips away.

He does not say a word. He just steps back and lets his hands slide off me. Almost as if Sam is being pulled away by some invisible force that is not his own free will.

I can’t stop myself from opening my eyes and I watch him retreat, step by step. Sam’s face is so full of emotion but it vanishes being stripped away with each and every step he takes, until there is nothing but a void, a blank space where there should be something.

Sam was just there with me, asking to be loved, to be forgiven, for me to take care of him. But he’s gone now. There’s only Samael left, the angel of death.

The true translation is ‘Venom of God,’ which is the same as ‘Poison of God,’ but also ‘Blindness of God.’ Sam once told me that. And it is all but true. He is the venom in my veins, poisoning me slowly. But also, God has turned a blind eye on him, not being able to see what Samael is doing, or what it has done to him.

All I want right now, is for Sam to return and kiss me like that once again. Just once. But the more he moves away, the more I feel he’s drowning back into that black pool that has consumed his soul.