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The taking is The Chapel’s initiation.
The needle pricks my skin as I look away. This is my first tattoo and it isn’t a terrible pain, I actually like it. It’s soothing—the sound of the buzzing machine and the needle pricking my skin. As I focus on that, time passes rapidly and the next thing I know, we are done. As he places his machine down and removes his black latex gloves, I take a peek. It is just like the one I saw on that guy at work. It looks like two wings are breaking out of my skin, just the outline and a bit of the inside are inked on me.
“Good job, Principessa Oscura. Now, let the taking begin.” He shouts into the room and declares. Unsure of what is next, the hand wrapped around my wrist now moves my arm above my head. Another hand joins and does the same to my left arm. My father walks to the foot of the table and signals for a couple others to join him. As they stand with him, they take the fabric of my dress and rip the slit to my stomach, exposing me completely to them.
The taking.
It makes sense now. I am the one they are taking.
“Keep your eyes open. If they close, it will only last longer.”
I want to scream. I want to fight. But it’s of no use. There is only one of me against all of them, I wouldn’t make it out of here alive if I tried.
A hand caresses my bare skin, moving slowly up my leg causing my toes to point and my body to stiffen. Just before the hand reaches my inner thigh, something changes.
I feel him.
He’s here, but where? My eyes shift, trying to look around me without being noticeable. The feeling gets stronger with each passing second. Hope. I latch onto it, and I am not letting it go.
“Oh, stepdaddy dearest.” A new voice taunts the room.
It’s him.
My breathing becomes more rapid in anticipation. The room remains quiet. I want to move my head to see what is happening, but I resist. I don’t need the attention back on me.
“Elijah, what is the meaning of your dramatics?” My father questions, unamused.
Elijah? I like that name.
“You gave her to me. I delivered both names to you on a silver fucking platter. After you promised me I could keep Rain! Now tell your goons to get their fucking hands off of her.” His voice is dripping with venom.
“The Dark One has since changed his mind. This is not something any of us have control over, I am all but a vessel for him to communicate through.”
I can hear footsteps getting closer. The connection feels stronger as he gets closer.
A million questions are racing through my head that I want to ask. That I want to scream about. But that isn’t a priority right now; not getting raped by these vile human beings and staying alive is.
My eyes shift as I hear Elijah step next to me and stop. He is in all black, but not like the others, he has no robe, instead I think it's a hoodie. My eyes try to wander up where I see the shine of his piercings and his floppy black hair. Ink peeks out on his exposed neck, and he has some sort of markings on his face.
“The fuck did you do to your face?” Father shouts, and his voice echoes all around us.
Elijah doesn’t respond. I see the corner of his mouth smirk. “If any one of you tries to stop me, I know where you live. I know where your kids go to school and what your spouses get up to while you are here. And I will kill them all without a trace if you fucking try to stop me.” He says matter of factly.
My nostrils flare as my heart races. My body wants to tremble, but it takes every bit of willpower to prevent it. The adrenaline of not knowing what will happen next has hit me, fear and anticipation riddle through me.
Father is first to speak. “You have no idea what you are doing right now. How you will have to pay for this, Elijah. He will make sure you do.”
“Would you shut the fuck up old man? I am not afraid of you or your Dark One. Pull my name next from the fire. It doesn’t fucking matter to me.” Elijah declares. As he does, I see his arm move up rapidly. There is a wooden bat in his hand, which he slams down on the table just above my head.
My body jolts from the shock and loud noise.
“Get ready, little bat. We are going home.”
I take that as my cue. It's time to move. Slowly I do, getting up with caution, unsure if someone will force me back down. Sitting up, my eyes take in the room. The followers are still surrounding us, observing what is happening before them. Elijah is challenging their Master, the vessel of their Dark One. And none of them are doing anything. Either out of shock or curiosity. Either way, I will take it.
“And mom, you are a fucking coward.” He adds.
She must be in a robe and mask, as I cannot tell where she is. But surely she cannot be too pleased about her husband trying to take on another wife.
