AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“And you’re a killer.”
“Sent by God.”
“Oh, yeah right,” she said, baiting him, but no longer caring, her passion overtaking the fear that still pulsed through her. She pushed hard on her wrists, tried to get the cords to give way. “God’s will is just your excuse.”
“I was doing His bidding.”
“By dressing up and playing a priest?” she said, eyes watching him, the bonds at her hands looser, she thought. “Why now?”
“It was time. You were closing down your program.”
“But it’s been years.”
“I was waiting for a sign,” he said.
“And did you see it?”
“Of course. You decided not to stop. You were going to continue. I prayed that it would be over, that once your program ceased, so would you, but you weren’t going to.”
“The podcast,” she whispered. “That’s a crap excuse.”
“A sign,” he corrected, his voice steady.
He disappeared from sight, walking behind her again, and she whipped her head around so that she could see him again. “Pretending to be holy. Do you really believe that?”
“I’m—”
“A liar and a murderer! That’s what you are. You killed innocent women and—”
“Not innocent,” he spat out, angrier still. “Those little whores were far from innocent! Evil women! Harlots of Satan!”
“According to you.”
“And the Father!” He was in front of her now once more and visibly agitated, his lips tight, a tic developing near one eye, visible at the edge of his dark lenses. He stopped to stare at her.
A good sign?
Or a bad omen?
As dire as the situation was, she had to keep him talking, if only for her own satisfaction. As long as he was talking, he wasn’t killing her.
“The Father speaks through me.”
“You wish! This is all playacting, and you know it! The fake robe, the fake name, the fake reasons for doing what you do! You’re a fraud! I know it, you know it, and believe me, God knows it. It’s sacrilege that you dare to wear the robes of good men, true believers who have given their lives to Him.”
“You know nothing!” he argued, his eyes flaring, his upper lip quaking, his fingers clenching and flexing over the deadly chain in his hand.
She flexed her legs. Stretched the ties. Her wrists were raw from the strain of trying to escape, and as if he noticed her struggle, he smiled slightly. Not a beatific play of the lips, but a wide, leering grin.
He thinks he’s won.
He thinks I’m already dead.
Think again, prick!
He started walking again, around and around, closer and closer, into her field of vision, out of it, his countenance appearing all the more evil in the glimmering light of the dying candles.
Her throat was dry with fear, her heart was drumming to the beat of a thousand drums as she tried to keep her gaze on him, to watch his every move, and knowing that each time he circled her, he was bringing her closer to death.
