“Scream, Satan’s whore. Scream as we rid the evil from your soul,” Gabriel snarled as he built up speed, his fingernails digging into the nape of my neck.

I tried to block it all out, I tried to think of something else, but movement from the side caught my eye. The rest of the Elders were closing in. And at that minute I lost all hope. For I knew they were all to take me. All four were here to take me. One by one.

Tears streamed from my eyes as Gabriel roared out his release. Before I even had time to brace for what would come next, I was dragged to the wall by my already-bruised arm and my wrists were shackled on short chains that hung high from the exposed brick.

And this time Moses closed in. Because this was what Moses did. He took me on these shackles he treasured so much, and caused me endless hours of pain.

My arms ached as I fought the strength of the chains, but Moses simply lifted my legs, ignoring my struggle. Making sure I looked him in the eyes, he pushed forward, the red-hot agony causing me to see spots.

And he did not stop. He surged forward at an unrelenting pace, biting my skin, until I screamed for him to stop. Until I begged. He always wanted me to beg.

As he released his seed within me, he pulled back. My body weak and tired, I hung from the chains, the tips of my toes scraping against the ground. My head hung down toward my chest, the aching soreness between my legs too much to bear. Then my throbbing legs were lifted again and spread wide. Rolling my head to lift, I saw Brother Jacob’s face, just as he forced himself within me.

Only this time I did not scream.

I did not scream as they each took me repeatedly against the wall. As they each chained me down to the table and forced themselves on me again.

And it did not stop. These four men came back for me every night, to take me again and again and again, until I could not bear the touch of another.

Until I could not stand the sight of myself.

They made me bleed. They tortured my soul. They ripped through my sin, over and over and over—

“Maddie! No! Do not. Do not do this to yourself. Maddie!” I blinked into the darkness, my head clearing from my nightmare, to see Mae before me.

Her hand ran over my face, my head and my arms. “Maddie. Speak to me. You are sweating and shaking. Please, do not let those men win. Do not let the memories regain their hold on you. You have come so far.  Be strong. Fight them back.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but no words slipped out. My body trembled, and Mae held my face steady in her cupped hands. Searching my face, she said, “Please, Maddie. Speak to me. I need you to be strong for me.”

This time when I opened my mouth, I spoke from heart. As I knew only one person could calm me from my nightmare. Only one person could understand how this felt. And as I managed to speak, I managed to express what I needed most.

“Flame…” I whispered. “I… I need my Flame.”

Chapter Twenty

Prophet Cain

“Are you ready, Cain?”

Judah’s hand landed on my shoulder as I stood outside the mansion. Judah was dressed in his black sweater, cargos and boots, as was I. Whatever he wanted me to see, a secret development he had been working on, was outside of New Zion.

“I’m ready,” I said and followed his lead down to the waiting van. I frowned seeing the blacked out van. Stopping, I looked to Judah whose eyes were lit with excitement. “A van?” I questioned. “Why do we need a van?”

Judah released my shoulder and climbed into the van. Brother Luke was sitting behind the wheel. He bowed to me as I clambered in.

My attention was still on Judah, waiting for him to answer my question. I tapped the door of the van and repeated, “The van?”

Judah glanced over to Brother Luke and smirked. “You will see, brother. We need to pick something up. And you will no doubt be pleased. What I have done, I have done for you, and you alone. You will be pleased. And this surprise will bring us all one step closer to our vision.”

I frowned, unsure what his surprise could be, but I was content with his answer. Since our disagreement over the child videos a few days prior, we had not been talking as much as normal. He had not visited me at the mansion, and for the first time in a long time, I had felt completely alone.

Without Judah, I was lost.

“Thank you,” I said a minute later, as we pulled out of the back gate of the commune and onto a secluded road.

Judah turned to look at me. Then a smile spread on his lips. I could see how much my thanks had meant to him. His hand covered mine. “I know that you do not see the purpose in our ways sometimes, but know that I am doing this for you. Our people believe in you, Prophet Cain. They see your face and know that God is with them. As do I. These early months, maybe even years, were always going to bring a period of adjustment.”