Page 43 of Wreck and Ruin

They are people.

“M-m–” the woman whispers, absolutely petrified. I am patient with her. The moment I start throwing orders around, no matter how nice I say it, I will only make things worse for her. “They’re kids,” she whispers, crying silently, squinting her eyes closed from the tears that sting them.

For a moment, I think she’s talking about the little girl in her arms, staring up at me with wide, curious eyes, but I look to the corner at the small dead body, and I understand. This woman has had to watch as these men tortured these kids. She was probably beaten trying to protect them.

“I’m gonna get you both out of here, okay? I will come back for you. I don’t know what I am about to walk into, so I need you to stay out of sight of the guards. Do you know how many there are out there?” I ask again.

She fights to open her swollen eyes, and I feel so helpless. Nobody deserves this shit. I avert my gaze, choosing a spot on the wall, as rage simmers in my blood.

“T-Two,” her voice is quiet, and I want to rip the meat off the bones of whoever is responsible for doing this to them.

This is why I didn’t even hesitate when Titan brought this mission to me four years ago. My goal has always remained the same. To put an end to this shit once and for all. Though, I thought I would have at least had backup when the time came to destroy them.

Standing, I walk out of the room and quietly close the door behind me, not wanting to raise suspicions. My body is vibrating with anger as I unlock every door that follows. Each room is filled with women and children, others filled with those who are already dead. I let them all know that I will come back for them, their hopeful eyes permanently branded in my brain.

Once I’m sure that the coast is clear, I climb the winding stone staircase, checking each room on every floor as I go. Some are empty, and others, Iwish, were empty. The cold, gray stone walls are lined with biblical tapestry. Ornate ceilings soar above me, and there are sconces on the walls every few meters, but no light shines from them. The only light source on this level is the sun shining through the large arch window, stained blood-red at the end of this hallway. The beam of light reflects on the door to the right of the window, a beacon, and it looks almost like magic. Dust mites fly through the beam, and unease pricks at me, causing a wave of dread to fill my already vibrating chest. The hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention.

I don’t like this.

I walk to the end of the stone hallway and stop once I reach the wooden door. I twist the rusted handle, expecting it to be locked, but it turns in my hand, indicating that it isn’t. My fingers tighten on the axe handle as the door slowly creaks open, revealing a religious, church-like set-up.

I step inside, surprised I don’t burn my feet as I walk over the threshold. I am met with ominous silence, and the smell of burning candle wax, as I walk further down the aisle. My bare feet scratch against the vermillion red carpet, the edges frayed in places, stained with blood, and fuck knows what else. My eyes glance between each pew to see if anyone is hiding behind them, but the room appears to be empty.

The walls are decorated with biblical scriptures and spiritual murals, but nothing about this room feels holy.

God isn’t here.

And if he is real, the church is the last place he’d want to be, knowing what I know about this place. There’s a white box freezer sitting atop the altar, and my eyes drop to see if a power cord is attached, but there isn’t. Whatever is in that freezer isn’t frozen. It takes every bit of strength I have to walk up to it, but I do, despite my instincts telling me not to. I roll my shoulders, and with one shaky hand, I lift the lid, and my blood runs cold at the sight. Bile rises in my throat, and this time, I lose the battle. I lean away from the freezer and vomit. I haven't eaten anything, and I'm thankful because I've been living on fucking clams. I collect myself, knowing I can't ignore it any longer, and I straighten, turning back to face the horrors within the freezer.

The body of a young girl lies pale, battered, and half-eaten. Chunks of flesh in the shape of human bite marks cover her small, malnourished body, and when my eyes meet hers, my breathing stops.

No.

Long dark hair sticks to bloodied, cold skin. Thick, natural lashes frame beautiful, dark eyes looking back at me, only there is no life behind them anymore.

I know those eyes.

Because I looked into eyes just like those once, and when I did, I made a promise. I stare down at the little girl. A wave of grief, stronger than any emotion I have ever felt, hits me in my stomach, as the reality of what’s in front of me sinks in.

I broke that promise.

Mikaiah.

I was too late.

I made a promise to a woman who died on a mission to save her little girl, and I was the one who took her life from her. I promised her that I would save her daughter in her place, but she lies dead in the freezer before me.

My vision blurs, my lips quivering as I choke back a sob. I drop the battle axe to the floor, and reach into the freezer for the girl,Mikaiah, not wanting her to be left here in this state.

In this place.

I pick her up gently, realizing that she hasn’t been dead long enough to stiffen yet.

I am too fucking late!

I walk back down the flights of stairs, holding Mikaiah close to my chest, my heart breaking behind my rib bones. There isn’t a single person in sight, and for a minute, I am not so sure I care. I walk to the end of the dock, stretching out to sea, and stare up at the sky.

“How could you let this happen?!” I cry out, my voice broken, my breaths heavy, and whatever was left of my blackened soul, completely destroyed. What happened to the man who was supposed to save us all?

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