Page 48 of Cursed Lifeline

Seventeen

Esme

Song: Requiem for a dream | Scott Benson Band

Over the last year,I’ve come to understand that my father’s cult of reason stands as a means to bring down the Catholic church and Christianity as a whole.

They worshiptheirreason, thus rejecting all forms of deity.

Truth. Liberty. That’s what they seek. To obtain their radicalism, anything that stands intheirway and restrictstheirthinking is to be done away with.

Starting with the church.

Standing in the middle of the Cathedral of Notre Dame, staring at a large cross atop an altar labeled liberty, I realize just how much I’ll never be free. From my father. The council.

If it’s truth that the cult of reason seeks, they should look at the rules they’re enacting, the old ways they're suppressing, and realize that the truth is - we’re all never really free.

To have complete freedom, you’d have to relinquish all control.

The cult of reason only stands to enact a new way of thinking.

A new form of control to replace the old hierarchy.

It’ll never last.

Understanding so, I begin to grasp the fact that maybe that’s what draws me to Felix.

I don’t worry if my feelings for him will last or stand the test of time. I know they will.

There’s freedom in loving him.

With him, I never worry about being in control, becausehe is, and I trust him.

It should bother me. My lack of self-respect when it comes to him considering what he is and my calling to be a slayer. But when I’m with him, it’s the only time in my life I’ve ever felt safe. Secure. Protected. Growing up in my father’s household, I never felt that way. Felix is the only thing that has ever made me feel grounded and anchored to an indisputable fact that, unlike Hamlet and Ophelia, we’re not crazy to fall in love.

Then again, maybe my father was right, and all I’ll ever be good for is a living sacrifice, starting with my attraction to Felix.

When I think about it that way, my life is one sick game.

A game where all sides seem to be playing me as their pawn. A game where no matter how hard I try, the cards aren’t stacked in my favor. Right now, as I stare at the altar in front of me, I fear no amount of bluffing or any sort of magical spell will save me from a fate I’ve always been destined to meet.

Whether it’s at the hands of my father or Felix’s coven.

The horrific screams of peasants draw my attention away from the cross. Glancing over my left shoulder and out the stained-glass window of the church, protests rage throughout the streets of Paris. Anyone who stands against my father and his reason is taken harshly into custody and restrained against their will. Some are immediately put to death on the city’s crowded streets for all to see and made an example of.

Through the mayhem, women dressed in white traipse through the crowds, chanting nonsense and luring others to join them in their indecent charade. Some are scandalously dressed, and I watch numbly as they lure men into the shadows, hike up their skirts, and allow them liberties for a price the fools are all too eager to pay.

“No daughter of mine will ever be so lewd,” my father’s voice rings through the cathedral as he steps out from behind the altar.

Disgusted, I ask, “Or what, father? You’ll have me manhandled and taught a lesson?”

My father takes the steps down from the altar toward me quickly.

“If it’s really my destiny to die at the hands of you or the coven, at least with Felix, I would have enjoyed it. Even at the end, when he inevitably took his last fatal bite.”

Reaching where I stand, my father slaps my face so quickly I barely have time to brace for the impact. The sting of his assault and harsh next words will haunt me forever, even in death.

“At least as a sacrifice,” he spits out, pulling my hair and forcing me to look him in the eyes, “You’ll be fulfilling your duty.”

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