Fear the Wicked (Illusions Series Book 2)(3)
The pain was exquisite, yet agonizing. His fear that I'd be lost as well driving him to exhaustion as he worked his magic inside me, as he battled and fought the sin that filled me until I was practically screaming.
Elijah had changed from one man into another. I couldn't understand why that change frightened me. Perhaps I was coming to life for once in my life, or perhaps I was being dragged back into the veil of ignorance and doubt that had always consumed me.
"I want to apologize to you, Mr. Prete. For both my weakness and my cruelty. I'm sure having lost one of your daughters, you can understand the pain I was feeling."
Mr. Prete wasn't much of a talker and it drove me a little mad that I couldn't see what was happening in the room.
"I was unable to save that young woman from whatever sickness plagued her. I was unable to guide her away from whatever monster it was that stole her virtue and took pictures of the crime he committed against her - the pictures he thought necessary to send to me."
My breath caught. I knew what was coming. Elijah's voice grew in strength as he spoke his next words.
"I couldn't save Annabelle, but I can save this woman. However, I'll need a strong body around me, a group of men whose faith in the Lord is without doubt. I need prayers, gentlemen, while I exorcise the demon ensnaring this young woman. Can you offer that to me despite what you see? Can you bless me and this suffering child of God with your participation and understanding?"
The men in attendance spoke, each acknowledging that they would give Elijah whatever help he needed. Faceless voices in different pitches and tones, each one resolute in their agreement that my sin needed to be cleansed.
"We'll begin," Elijah announced. "Eve. Please walk to me."
My legs barely held me as I stood, but I managed to cross the distance between us, was able to remain on my feet at Elijah's side. I wondered if the pain would be excruciating.
"This may shock you, gentlemen, but I believe desperate times call for desperate measures. She has the demon of lust inside her. Its sharp claws are entangled in her heart, its razor sharp teeth embedded in her soul. It's stolen her virtue and sanity, her ability to think clearly in the face of temptation.”
His hand touched my shoulder. I lifted my eyes to see the men sitting in attendance. My gaze stilled when it locked on the faces of my father and brother. There was no fighting the tears that fell.
"Eve," Elijah said, "We'll need you to confess before we can drive the demon from you." His voice softened. "Can you do that for me?"
I almost laughed. He'd never asked me that question before. Normally he demanded a confession out of me.
"Yes," I finally answered.
The fabric of the hood slid from my head as he removed it, the cloth sash tying the robe around my body loosened until the robe itself was pulled from my shoulders. When they witnessed my nudity, some murmured in surprise, while others stared at the parts of me that brought on my shame.
Fully exposed, I was the spectacle of a woman's deception.
"Calm down, gentlemen, I know this is uncomfortable. But if we are to help this woman we need to stand in witness of her shame and degradation. We need to believe in the Father who will lend us His strength in casting out the evil that holds her captive. We need to look upon her with an eye of pity rather than that of lust. It is just a naked body, one with a natural purpose that has been used to the Devil's advantage.”
The hum of conversation grew quiet and I was directed to stand between two large posts, my face turned to the stained glass window, my arms bound above my head and to the sides of my body - cuffs attached to the posts that would secure me in place.
A shudder of doubt rolled through me, most likely the demon shaking beneath the knowledge that it would be expelled.
My head fell forward.
"Confess, Eve. Tell God your sins so that your penance will cleanse them from your body."
More murmurs of surprise erupted just before the strike of a whip cut into my back. The scream that burst from me was unholy, my tears hot and steadily flowing as I forced myself to speak.
"I've had disgusting thoughts," I breathed out, trying and failing to add any strength to my voice. The burning line across my back felt like it seeped beneath my skin to set my lungs on fire. I couldn't draw in air, could barely think past the sting of purification. "Thoughts that no person should have."
Another strike and I screamed again, my throat torn by the sheer volume, my jaw aching from how wide I stretched my lips. My wrists shook in the cuffs that held them, my legs giving out until I couldn’t find the ability to push to my feet again. Tears dropped to the floor beneath me, small, wet puddles of evidence that could be used against me. Those same tears soaked into my lips, the salt flavor of my agony a coating over my tongue.
Through sobs, I called out, "I've wanted immorality, craved sensuality, exposed my body and tempted men. I let one touch me. Let him press his naked body against mine." A terribly deep sob racked me. "He wasn't my husband."
The next strike of the whip cut through the cries of surprise and grunts of disapproval from the audience. Voices picked up, prayers being repeated as the men witnessed my shame. I wasn't sure my knees would hold me much longer.
Memory took me back to that night on the road, the night I'd willfully shown my body to a man who wasn't Elijah. For months, I'd believed he'd forgiven me, but in a state of panic about my eternal soul, Elijah had remembered within the last few days, all because I'd confessed what happened that night had become a fantasy.