Page 17 of Anathema
I furrowed my brows as I approached the counter and picked up the sealed envelope. It looked no different than the last one, with the same black wax seal, a white rabbit, and a red letter A in the center of it.
Opening the envelope, I pulled out the cream-colored card stock. Again, the image on the back was a wine-stained circle and a painted red letter A. Flipping the card over, I read what was inscribed onthe back.
I released a held breath and rested my forearms on the counter, hanging my head in what felt like relief. This was it then, another nail in my fucked up coffin.
I had sold my life to Charlotte and was released from that contract when Atlas killed her, so why was I so quick to sell my freedom all over again? It may be the need for a purpose bigger than myself—the need to be feared among men—a force to be reckoned with.
Lifting my head, I reached for the envelope again and pulled out the strip of paper, noting the location of my meeting. I entered the coordinates into my phone, and at first glance, it looked as though the address was in the middle of a street, but after searching a little deeper, I found that it pointed to an underground tunnel that ran along the riverfront.
Specifically, a headrace tunnel underneath St. Anthony Main. It was an interesting choice of location for a simple meeting.
The headrace tunnels were used in the nineteenth century to divert water from the river above St. Anthony Falls to the various flour mills. Now, they are the underworld of Minneapolis and, apparently, my meeting point with Anathema. It almost begged the question of whether they had recently established their hideout in the tunnels or if it had always been there and gone unnoticed after all this time.
Tapping the corner of my phone against my lips, I chewed on my cheek. I had two days to make a final decision on whether to follow through with my plans or not. Showing up for this meetingwould confirm my acceptance of their invitation, and once I did, there would be no turning back.
I dropped my phone on the counter, cursed, and speared my hands through my hair, pulling at the roots in utter frustration.
The one person I could talk to about this made it abundantly clear that they didn’t want me involved with Anathema and told me to stay away from them.
I was shit out of luck for help and ultimately alone in this life-altering decision.
Unknowingofwhattoexpect, I dressed myself head to toe in all black, from my combat boots to my thick leather jacket; it was always a solid choice—the outfit we always wore on assignments for Charlotte.
Squaring my shoulders, I entered the headrace system through the basement of an abandoned building and followed my GPS to the coordinates I had saved earlier. My reception was patchy, and my location kept going in and out the entire time. I couldn’t help but feel like I could lose cell service completely and get lost down here.
The tunnels were cold and damp, and the smell of stagnant water overwhelmed my senses. Using my phone as a flashlight, I continued exploring, stopping once I had approached the coordinate marker I had been given.
Holding the light against my surroundings, there was nothing here. I was standing in the middle of a tunnel with no additional exits or passageways. The walls were marked with graffiti, but nothing that stood out as being related to Anathema.
When I checked the time on my screen, it was five minutes to midnight, and no one was here but me. I was alone in the dark, with nothing but the sounds of dripping water echoing on either side of me.
Fuck, this was creepy as hell.
If the overwhelming thought of initiation, selling your soul, or just how fucked up these people were, in general, didn’t scare you off from committing yourself to them, these tunnels alone would do that for you.
Warm air brushed across the back of my neck, causing the hairs to stand up, and I spun around, looking to see where it had come from or if anyone had snuck up behind me.
That was one of the biggest problems when it came to the dark; it could disorient and fuck with your head. Remove one sense—sight—and your others heighten to compensate.
The invitation instructed me to come unarmed and alone; I did and regretted every single second of it. If anything were to go wrong right now, I was completely fucked.
I felt the warm breeze caress the back of my neck again and growled, bearing my teeth.
Okay, fuck this.
“Quit fucking around with me; I’m here just as requested,” I yelled into the darkness.
Someone was here; I could feel it. Eyes lingering on my every move, enjoying the sight of me wriggling like a worm on a hook. “Show yourself, or I’m leaving,” I added, spinning around once more. I’ll be damned to be a mouse cornered so easily.
“Oh, come now, Alexis. We should be allowed to have some fun with our initiates from time to time. How would we know if you were worthy of joining us without ever testing your limits to their fullest extent?”
My breath hitched. I knew that voice, one that I hadn’t heard in over two fucking years. Fear and unease were lost to me; I was burning with rage as I turned and faced where the voice had come from.
“What the fuck are you doing here…Adrian.” I hissed, straightening myself, no longer intimidated by the darkness surrounding us. His name felt like acid on my tongue. I fisted my free hand, shining my phone’s light directly in his face.
Adrian chuckled and held his hand up to block the light from his eyes.
With a simple snap of his fingers, lights illuminated the tunnel on either side of us, and I dropped my phone to my side, turning off the flashlight.
