ELIJAH
To live is to suffer. To survive is to find some meaning in the suffering. - Friedrich Nietzsche
Eunice hadn't removed her veil by the time I walked into the women's dorm. Seated on a bench seat, surrounded by women tending to her wounds and offering her food and water, she wore one of the long navy blue dresses the female family members preferred.
As soon as I stepped foot in the room, Eunice's eyes darted to my face, the tension of fear weighing on her shoulders. Fight or flight was the alarm behind her stare, her instincts telling her to run as quickly as possible while her intellect told her to stay in place - to submit to the predator that was more powerful than her.
It was always the initial focused gaze - the terror and indecision to be found there - that forced my blood to pump harder.
I stopped within feet of her. "Are you ready?"
It was a struggle for her to strip her gaze from mine, but she eventually tore her focus from me to look at the women sitting to her left and right.
As if impeaching them for help, her expression fell when they all moved back, smiles adorning their faces because they knew what I offered this woman was a gift. They all offered the same gift to me when they had an opportunity, but I wasn't interested in those already besotted; I wanted the ones that were harder to pin down.
The last woman to whom it had been offered was still fulfilling her purpose, still demonstrating that she had not only seen God's power, but wanted a part of it for herself.
Without offered help, Eunice turned her eyes back to mine. Her throat worked to swallow the fear she felt. "For?" she asked on a shaky breath.
My smile didn't calm her. "We should take a walk and discuss your new life here amongst the family. I'm sure you'll appreciate what we have to offer once you understand that we are God's people."
Indecision wrinkled her brow. "A walk where?"
Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, to drag her from her seat for questioning me, I rolled my shoulders back instead. Why do people always have to ask so many questions? Why can't they simply trust that God knows what's best?
"Come, Eunice," I said, extending my hand to grab her and help her from her seat. "Enough with questions. It's time to prove your faith."
Her grip of my hand was hesitant at best, a tremor running through her delicate bones as I led her from the dorm into a large hallway. An exterior door stood at the end of the hall, thick metal once painted black, but now a sad grey with scrapes and dings from years of neglect and use. Once opened, the yard spread out before us, a chain link fence in the distance with one lonely tall gate.
Placing my hand on her shoulder, I didn't miss how she jumped in place. The poor girl's nerves were fried, but it didn't matter. When she learned the path God had chosen for her in this life, her nerves would be eased by her devotion.
"Beyond that gate is your salvation," I told her, my voice low and soothing, my hand strong where it still held her. "Are you ready for it?"
The wilting of her shoulders, the subtle downturn to the corners of her lips, the slight trembling of her arms told me she wasn't ready - would never be ready. But that made no difference to me. Every person had a purpose. Every person had a use. And every step they provided me toward what I ultimately wanted made them precious for as long as their purpose had yet to be fulfilled.
Even young Eunice.
The dogs couldn't have had better timing. Their angry growls and harsh barking echoed across the property grounds. But it was the high-pitched, agonized scream that emanated above their voices that caught Eunice's attention.
The older whore didn't last long against their sharp teeth and starved stomachs. Within minutes they could be heard being let loose on the property, approaching where we stood at full speed.
A smile stretched my lips. Leaning toward her, I brushed my lips along her jaw, sliding my warmth ever so slowly along her skin until my mouth met her ear.
"I would run if I were you. I can't be sure, but the dogs still sound hungry."
She pinned me in her wide-eyed stare, the sound of the dogs creeping ever closer while she made her decision. Would she face the woods as the sun set in the distance? Or would she face the bigger threat that approached on angry, fast paws?
Her head spun to look between both threats, and the woods won. It was too bad she didn't know the dogs would never have actually reached us. There were gates that remained closed that would have prevented them from leaving their portion of the yard.
Giving her a few minutes head start, I closed the gate behind me as I stepped into the shadow of the woods, my lips puckering on a soft whistle as I slipped through the trees on a casual stride, knowing well that I'd catch my prey regardless of how fast she could run.