Page 88 of Judas

My muscles feel like they’re in knots from being confined to it for so long; not able to stretch out or pop any of the joints. The broken skin, missing phalanges, and other wounds don’t make it any better. They won’t ever hear me say it, but I’ve not taken a beating like this before. Always talking myself out of them, turning things around on other people and disappearing.

“Not a damn person asked you—shut the hell up,” Babel snorts.

“Ignore him, that’s one of his things. Was like that in Darkwater too. Hypocritical shit.”

“Pretty boy, let me out of these bindings and I’ll remind you what happens when you use the Lord's name in vain.”

“Going to remind me what happens when I touch Nadia, too? How does it feel knowing someone has video footage of you relieving yourself on a man? How many commandments did youbreak with that stunt? Adultery, false witness, shall not murder, covet. That’s what, twenty lashings?”

“Historically in Jewish contest, maybe. Roman, no, as there is no limit.”

“I’ll be damned, he answered a fucking question,” mutters Babel.

They go back to their conversation and leave me to my own thoughts and pains, allowing me a small respite. Unable to sink into the chair and rest my head back, I tilt it to the right and end up leaving it there and close my eyes. Unfortunately, everywhere I turn I’m left plagued. Itching to expel my soul from this body and maybe, just maybe, I will.

Before my descent into mental hell, Naamah’s words come back to me—Samael will be locked in this body. Listen, I’m not a good man. I know that. Never claimed to be one. The Lord may be willing to forgive my soul, but I doubt he will do the same for Samael; at least I hope he forgives me.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” Sighing softly to myself, less sound and more breath shaping my words.

“I have committed atrocities in your name and deserve the punishment that you have prepared for me in the belly of hell. I was led astray, my Lord, by one of your other creations. Corrupted for the sake of your name, believing I was doing your will and displeasure. Should I never have my name written in yourBook of Life, I will accept my punishment. But I beg that you hear my confession and save the soul that wasn’t meant for the darkness that has stained it so. When the one called Samael warped my mind. I’m in no way innocent, but I do acknowledge that I have earned eternal damnation. Were I a stronger man, a stronger boy, I could have found guidance through your word rather than violence. Amen.”

“Wake your ass up.”

My chair jolts and I jump at the sudden nature of it; a kick, I presume. Tilting my head back, it feels like it weighs a thousand pounds. I look up to Kace and a dim light that’s flooding the room barely illuminates his figure in the darkness—must be night outside. Time for my daily beating. The fog over my eyes has cleared up a bit since earlier, allowing more details to come through. As for other senses, my mouth is still just as dry as it was, but a few aches have since faded.

“What do you want, pretty boy?” Still a bit groggy as I ask.

“It’s dark out, I have questions, you have answers. Let’s get this over with.”

“Fine. You won’t like anything you hear but if you would kindly fuck off afterwards, I’ll answer them.”

Kace’s brows lift to his hairline in surprise, which still exists for a man of his advanced age.

“Kace!” Nadia’s voice pierces the air, making him swivel and look at the closed bedroom door. His left arm lifts and his thumb hooks over his shoulder, addressing Babel.

“Can you get that?”

Babel doesn’t hesitate; the soft footfalls seem just as ominous as her sharp yelp. He opens the door just as Kace circles back to me, standing only a few feet away. Stockier than I remember in Darkwater, with his sturdier arms crossed over his wider chest. Solid and unforgiving. He was always healthy but he’s just a bitmorenow and it contrasts the weakness I feel.

“What were you going to do with the girls?”

Here we go, Spanish Inquisition.

Responding without haste, I huff, “Double-murder, suicide.”

“Why?”

“Our blood is unclean for this world. We are haunted in ways that cannot be fixed.“

I barely know how to explain this anymore, it makes sense in my head. But when I speak it out loud, it’s drastic—and that’s putting it lightly.

“Our mother had similar ailments. Psychosis of some varying degree. Pair that with her substance abuse and promiscuity, she delivered two children who are as messed up. I—“ My voice trails off for a moment.

“Hold on, you’re telling me you wanted to kill the three of you because you don’t like how your mentally ill mother gave you life?” Kace asks.

“Yes and no. As I was saying, I didn’t intend on killing either one of us. I had planned to get pulled out of Darkwater and take her with me, where we could at least be with family that understood one another. We didn’t get that when we were little. Her father forced us away and mine pulled us back into hell on earth. Always wanted to be part of Nadia’s life, Kace. When she pushed me away, when she chose you over me, I couldn’t allow it. Hate me all you want, but I’ve seen how love can destroy innocence. To me, she’s still the girl in the window. Crying over her color pages, wrecking the pretty things I did for her. Then we grew up, just as messed up as we were when we were little. But she chose to be your whore instead of my sister.”

“I don’t buy that shit for one second, Lucien. Love doesn’t mean kill. How did you get out of Sortiger?”

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