Chapitre 36: WHISPER SIN INTO MY EAR.
Jacob Kabanski and Sam Roward, she said. Two fuckers whom I already knew. For as long as I could remember, they'd spend as much time in my parents' house as in their own. They weren't always in my field of view, but they were there, in my father's office, or outside in the backyard, or in church after mass standing in the corner in the company of my father, discussing some subjects whose meaning I could never pinpoint…
On that Christmas day when Vivian had come to my house to announce my religious pursuit, I remember Kabanski and Roward briefly interrogating the nun of whether or not they had crossed paths before. They remarked her face looked familiar. I remember how politely she shook her head no, supplying her denial by "Not unless we've done the same campaigns." The two men had no further questions and continued having their Christmas fun. How did they not recognize her?
And father? Was he such a great actor that he pretended he didn't know his victim? He looked oblivious of her. Like, completely oblivious. Welcomed her into his home. And she ate the food off of his table. And they exchanged smiles. And there was no enmity between them, or between the nun and the two fuckers that had taken her child, raped her, beat her senseless and nearly ended her life.
I did not get that part.
At all.
I thought, if I were on her place, I'd claw their eyes out and pull their dicks off before setting them on fire.
Exactly 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 I was aiming to do.
The following morning I woke up and chose violence. Waited for the public mass to begin, then waited for another tourist to stray into the convent so I could lure them into my cell for Asmodeus. This time, a teenage boy who barely scraped the mark of eighteen seemed completely disarrayed in the vastness of the monastery and wandered about the place trying to find his way, probably to the chapel.
What's with the males always finding themselves strolling in the least likely of places? I thought to myself. Or was there another "Val" who waited for her lover in her cell while the others were obliviously praising the lord some feet away?
No matter.
I helped him like I'd helped Ronan, half blinded by the wrath and careless of what might happen to that pure soul after I've used it to my advantage. Long story short, there he was, sprawled ankle-on-knee on the squeaky chair, with a smug expression, mouth pursed and eyes narrowed curiously. It was amazing. Amazing how Asmodeus could make one person look like someone completely different without doing nothing but possessing them.
"Another useless chit-chat?" Muttered the fiend, staring at me through the human ochre irises that grew impossibly black in moments.
"Last time you made it clear you weren't much of a talker." I muttered back. "And threatened to kill me." I added.
He huffed. "I might 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 to kill you should you keep disturbing me for the sake of flimflam."
I swallowed. We exchanged a look. He jerked his chin to prompt my voice.
"You're not here to talk," I said.
"Oooo…" Mirth curled his lips. "Intriguing. Why then?"
I opened my mouth but closed it immediately, thinking, 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦, 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘧 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘺, 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘷𝘢𝘭𝘶𝘦𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨? Meanwhile, his dark stare turned to an impatient glare. It made my heart pound. 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵? 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘰 𝘐 𝘴𝘢𝘺?
"Why have you conjured me, nun." Asmodeus's voice lowered down to the floor beneath my feet.
"To avenge my mother." I blurred out quietly, afraid of myself, of what I was becoming. I was actually, in full seriousness, implying to harm other humans. 𝘏𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘴. Despite their atrociousness.
A brow of surprise was raised momentarily. Then followed a smile. The smile he gave me harbored too much darkness. And pleasure. It was disgusting, sadistic, and in no way matched the bright youthful face of the boy that sat before me. "Go on." He drawled.
𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘴, I told myself, feeling the last few particles of my moral values dissolve in my acidic fury.
"I want those fuckers, who did all those terrible things to my mom," I paused, "to my real mom," another pause, "to both of us, really," and another pause. "I want them to pay for all they'd done."
"Put forth a clear request, mortal."
"Make them suffer."
"That's more like it." He smirked. "Hmmmmmmm…" For a long moment his black bottomless eyes searched my face for something just as black, savored its each angry wrinkle and every furious fold. "So we crave blood, don't we…"
"Yes. We do." I chopped.
"Impressive, dear Gen. Very impressive." He praised, prompting me to speak up with an inquisitive wave of the boy's hand. "Please, continue. I'd like to hear what else exciting is cooking in that twisted head of yours."
It's as if his voice poured gasoline on fire, but my wrath intensified as I imagine all that Vivian had to endure.
"I want to watch them bleed and scream and squirm in agony like did my mother. Fuckers like them don't deserve to live."
Just as I'd said that, I immediately thought of Val. These were her exact words when she had told me of her father. At the time her lack of remorse astonished me. But now I truly, 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘭𝘺 felt what she'd felt, and wow, the feelings were…consuming. Hatred, disgust, resentment, pain and a burning desire to return it all back to those monsters.
"Who said she screamed and squirmed in agony?" Asmodeus's voice brought me back from my sick dark reverie back to his still darker eyes.
I frowned at the words. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘣𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘥. "She obviously did." I repeated what I'd thought.
"Quite the opposite, actually. She was as mute as a fish. Very disappointing and no fun at all."
"Ah…..of course. How could I forget..." my eyes burned like lasers right through mortal flesh, seared past all the layers, visible and invisible, until they halted on Asmodeus and I glared at him with universal hate, swallowing my wrath again and again to not — god forbid — in a state of blind passion, claw the eyes of the innocent teenager who had absolutely nothing to do with this. "You were there. You did this to her. You whispered crime into their ears. That's why they did what they did. It's all your fault."
"Is this what they tell their kids before putting them to bed at night?" His grin became so humiliatingly wide it hardly looked human. And gave me chills.
"Tell what." I gritted through clenched teeth.
"A tale of me whispering sin into men's ears."
"But that is exactly what you do," I said. "Whisper sin into people's ears."
"What do I look like to you, a clown?" Another raise of a brow, another jerk of surprise.
"I don't understand what you mean." I replied. It was the truth. "What clown. Why clown?"
"Because you — retarded bitch — think I walk this earth entertaining men with ideas of murder. Unheard of. 𝘔𝘦𝘯 entertain 𝘮𝘦. 𝘔𝘦𝘯 call upon 𝘮𝘦 to amuse 𝘮𝘦 with their deeds. And when I find an act worth my while — I watch."
At this point I was practically boiling. "So you're saying you're not the perpetrator? Not the—mastermind behind all that's happening in the world? The wars? The killings and what not horrific? You just…𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩? 𝘜𝘯𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘰𝘧." I kept on sizzling.
He gave me a laughing look. "Blaming devil for human crimes is very convenient, isn't it?"
I huffed. "Men are the root of all evil. Really."
" 'Evil' is an understatement."
"Lies." I spat for a lack of a better comment. The worst part was that I knew he wasn't lying. And he knew that I knew that he wasn't. With this in mind, he did not need to prove or justify himself. He simply sat there and watched me, amused as one could be.
Time ticked away.
"So men are just...evil?" I echoed.
"Striking, you don't find?"
"All men?" It didn't sound right.
"Not all. Or rather, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘺𝘦𝘵. But the more I watch, the more plausible the idea of "all" becomes."
I shook my head. Maybe Frowned. Maybe muttered some nonsense under my breath. Then asked, "Why 𝘥𝘰 you watch?"
"Stupid question, Genevieve. For personal pleasure, of course."
"What pleasure...?"
You're fairly dense, I must remark. Or, perhaps, you've 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘩𝘰𝘸 forgotten who you're speaking to?"
"I remember, 𝘈𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘥𝘦𝘶𝘴."
"𝘞𝘩𝘰 am I, nun."
"The king of lust and destruction."
"Well, good. You haven't completely lost your senses. Now can you put two and two together? Or should I chew up and feed you spoon by spoon a simple fact that it pleases me to witness the downfall of my greatest enemy's precious children?" A small, satirical smile. "Sugar, nothing gives me more thrill than that of watching men commit their little crimes and bring their god the biggest woe. There exists no better treat for me than watching them go straight to hell. Straight to me." His eyes flashed mischievously before he continued, "So, sweetness. If you crave your enemies' blood – I shall satisfy you with pools of it. But remember, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 proclaimed sin into my ear, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘐 whispered it into yours."
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