Carmen

FOUR

CHAPTER FOUR: Beautiful Crime

  That caught his attention. He put his book down and closed the door behind her with a simple hand gesture. "Oh. What happened to make you take this decision? Something worse than being burned alive, I presume."

  "I just can't handle dreaming and thinking about you all the time anymore," Carmen said, ignoring his comments. "I assume this is because I gave my body to you, isn't it? My body now wants you and it disturbs me. So I'd rather just give you what you want and get it over with. So tell me what I have to say."

  He looked at her silently from head to toe, then laughed, as if she'd just told him the best joke he'd heard in a while. "Oh, darling... Your mother really didn't teach you anything, did she? Selling your soul is not that easy. You can't just say some words and consider it done."

  "Then what do I have to do? Tell me, please. I'll do anything."

  "Are you that desperate?"

  "Yes!" Carmen almost yelled. She took a deep breath in, trying to calm herself down. "Please..."

  "Very well. If you're sure about it, then follow me."

  He got up from the chair and walked to an old bookcase at the back of the room. He pulled onto one of the books and the bookcase moved, revealing a tunnel that seemed to be going down. "Classic..." she whispered sarcastically.

  He started going down the stairs and she followed him. The tunnel was so dark she could barely see anything so she grabbed onto his hand so that she wouldn't fall or get lost. He turned to look at Carmen but didn't remove his hand from her grasp. The staircase kept spiraling down and it felt like she had been descending forever.

  "Where are we going? Into Hell itself?"

  "Not quite," he chuckled. "But almost."

  At the end of the staircase there was a metal door without any knock or lock. He opened it with magic and asked her to go in first so she did. The sight that welcomed her was one she knew she'd never forget.

  The room looked like a torture chamber and was as big as a football field. Hundreds of people were in it, of different ages and races, all naked and hanging by their wrists from the ceiling. Some were wounded, others seemed to have never been touched. They were all unconscious and still. The smell of blood and urine was imprinted into the walls and it made Carmen feel sick.

  "What is this place? Who are they??"

  "Christians," he simply answered, walking past her and running his fingers down the chest of one of his prisoners. "I had them gathered up and brought into various Outposts right before the big boom. I hold most of them here though since this is where I spend most of my time."

  "What do you do with them?" She asked.

  Michael shrugged. "I play, mostly. They are a good entertainment for when I am bored."

  "But why?" Carmen almost felt like crying. The sight was too horrible.

  "Because it makes my Father happy," he simply stated, as if that explained everything. "Anyway! I didn't bring you here just to admire them. You can pick one, whichever strikes your fancy, and kill them."

  Carmen left out a nervous chuckle. "Excuse me?"

  "You said you want to give me your soul. That's the way to do it. Human sacrifice," he explained. "You pick one and kill him or her in my name. They are under a spell so they are sleeping now but I will wake up the one you wish to sacrifice."

  "You've got to be kidding me."

  "You're the one who wanted to do this, darling."

  "I didn't, I just..."

  Carmen stopped, running her fingers through her hair. Her heart was beating so fast she thought she might collapse. It was all too much. Those poor people, the smell, the blood, the idea that it was either this or continuing to live through the constant emotional and mental struggle she had brought upon herself. 

  "I can't do it..." Carmen said.

  "Sure you can," he encouraged her. "Look, you can kill this one." He walked to a terribly wounded man who seemed to be in his early 30s and woke him up by snapping his fingers. "His name is Jason. He dedicated his entire life to praising God and turning people against me and my Father. He'd be the perfect candidate. I've been playing with him a lot but I kept him alive to kill him on a special occasion. He's all yours." 

  Carmen stared at him and then at the man with tears in her eyes. Michael made one of the many knives from the walls teleport into his hand and handed it to her. "You can do it, Carmen," he told her, moving to stand behind her and placing his hands on her shoulders. "Just slice his throat like a pig and your Soul will be mine."

  "I can't..." Carmen said again.

  "Yes, you can. I've seen your thoughts. Deep inside, you've been wanting to kill someone for so long."

  Carmen shook her head in disagreement. Sure, she thought about killing some of the other occupants of the Sanctuary, but it was never something she truly wish. Just a fleeting thought. Carmen was not a murderer.

  "Just do it," the wounded man said. "At this point, death would be sweet relief. I want to go to Heaven."

  "Aww, isn't that sweet?" Michael mocked. "He's basically begging for it."

  Carmen pondered it for a moment, but eventually shook her head again and turned around, handing him back the knife. "No. I can't... I'd rather continue being your sex slave or whatever you've made of me."

  He sighed. "That's seriously disappointing," he said. "But very well. As you wish."

  "You may think you've won," the wounded man said loudly, "but God and Jesus Christ are mightier than you and your Father. Somehow, some day, you're going to lose, you monster. You're gonna be destroyed. The Bible predicted it long before you were born. You will fall!"

  Michael rolled his eyes dramatically. "See what I mean?" He said, walking slowly by Carmen. "He's a complete waste of space." 

  In the next second, he buried the knife in the man's chest. Carmen gasped and covered her mouth with her hands as blood poured out onto the floor. Michael smiled sadistically, moving closer to the man's face. "Tell your Master my Father says hi." 

  He pulled the knife down, cutting the man's chest open. Blood spilled out of Jason's mouth and he let out a desperate scream of pain. Michael threw the knife away and dug his hand inside the wound, pulling out the man's heart. Carmen took a few steps back, trembling in horror as he took a bite out of the bleeding organ. 

"The bastard even tastes bitter," Michael joked.