My Masters' Nightmare Season 1, Episode 2 Discovered (10 page)

“
Again, just a
coincidence.”

“
You’re wrong; she’s a
doppelganger, a harbinger of bad luck.”

“
She’
s just a
slave.”

“
Whether she is a slave or
a master, she is still
an omen of death.” The priest let go of my face
and grabbed my wrist, yanking my hand away from my pussy. “Why is
her evil uncovered?”

“
All the slaves go
naked.”

“
You misunderstand me.”
The priest ran his fingers over my newly shaven pussy, making me
back up into Alberto
.
“Her skin is smooth like a young girl’s, not a hair on it,
whereas the other demons’ slits were covered.”

“
Frano
must’ve shaved it. She was in his room earlier.”

“
Your
brother is like my fallen angel, easily tempted. I would also like
to cleanse him, and to fill his precious chalice with God’s love
until it is overflowing.” The priest smiled wide, his eyes telling
me it wouldn’t be God’s love going into Frano’s body.

Alberto reared up.
“
You are not
to touch Frano, otherwise this deal is off.”

“
There is no deal,
ragazzo
, there is only what I
say.”

“
You still can’t touch my
brother!”

“
Lower
your voice before you disturb
God’s slumber.”

Al
berto leaned his head forward, his
voice dangerously low. “If you lay a finger on my brother, I will
slaughter your
famiglia
, every last one—including you.”

“
S
uch loyalty to the one you betrayed.
How touching.”

“
Just
give me your word you won’t touch Frano.”

“
You
need not worry about your
brother; my Gabriel is all I desire.”
The priest turned and headed back to
Jagger. “Beautiful angel, what shall I do with your lover’s
doppelganger?” He cocked his head to the side as though Jagger was
saying something, but only silence filled the room. “True, she
isn’t a real doppelganger, since her
gemella
no longer walks God’s green
earth.”

“
The slave is not
Sophia’
s
twin,
Padre
,” Alberto said, looking frustrated,
“she’s an American meant for
the Black Russian.”

“
No, she’s meant for the
Devil. I have prepared a baptismal bath
for Gabriel, but we will use it for
the demon instead. Take her in there now.” He pulled out a knife
from his gown and cut the ties attached to Jagger’s arms and legs,
then moved the knife to his nether regions.

“
Padre
!” Alberto yelled out.

The priest
threw Alberto an indignant
glare. “I’m just untying him.”

“
You speak in riddles
.
For all I know, ‘untying him’ could mean freeing
him from his manhood.”

The priest shook his head, a
small laugh escaping. “I meant it literally. I’ve already told you
I wouldn’t cut him.” He
turned back to Jagger, who appeared to have lost
consciousness. He started cutting the rope from Jagger’s genitalia,
then pocketed the knife and scooped Jagger up into his
arms.

I stared at them, the scene surreal, making me
think of the Renaissance paintings of martyred saints: A beautiful
naked man in the arms of a black-cloaked priest—a sacrifice, given
up for the sake of a religion. But I knew there was nothing holy
here, only insanity claiming Jagger’s body.

Alberto pushed me
towards the
bathroom, snapping me back to reality. As we entered the room, he
shoved me against the bath. My knees hit its exterior, making me
yelp.

“
Get in the tub,” he
growled.

I climb
ed into the freezing water and
wrapped my arms around myself, shivering from both terror and the
cold. Was the priest going to baptize me, to cleanse me of my
‘sins’?

The priest entered and handed
Jagger’s limp form over to Alberto. “Wake my angel up, Alberto,” he
said, his cold blue eyes
moving to me, “I want to show him how I killed his
first lover.”

Alberto’
s eyes widened. “You drowned
Sophia?”

“
S
ì
,
and I will do so again until she no longer rises from the depths of
Hell.”

“
Padre
, this is
not
Sophia, you know that.”

“
Maybe. But the
wit
ch will
still die the same way.”

Knowing what was coming, I pushed up,
aching to deck the priest after what he’d done to Jagger, but his
hands shot out faster than I anticipated, knocking me into the
water. I went down hard, hitting the back of my head against the
porcelain. My mind went blank, then in the blink of an eye,
freezing water was filling my mouth, choking me, making my throat
close up. Panicked, I grappled at the hands holding me under the
water, desperate to get free. Fingernails dug into my flesh, the
grip relentless. Jagger yelled out, begging Alberto to save me,
offering himself up, the priest’s angel pleading for my
life.

My lungs screamed, my throat froze,
my mind went hazy ... then everything went black.

Episode 3 Coming Soon

About
the Author

Marita A. Hansen
is from New
Zealand. She loves writing, creating art, watching and
participating in football, and running. She ran her first marathon
in 2012 and is now planning on completing many more. For more
information on Marita check out these links:

Author
Facebook Page:

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Marita-A-Hansen/113130742120676

My
Masters’ Nightmare Facebook Page:

https://www.facebook.com/pages/My-Masters-Nightmare/167338690126962

Blog
Site:

http://maritaahansen.blogspot.co.nz/

Goodreads’ Author Page:

http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5129673.Marita_A_Hansen

Artslant
Page:

http://www.artslant.com/global/artists/show/74433-marita-hansen

Twitter
Name: @MaritaAHansen

Other books by Marita A. Hansen

My
Masters’ Nightmare Season 1, Episode 1 “Taken”

Behind
the Hood

Graffiti
Heaven

Behind
the Tears

Behind
the Lens

Don’t
Peek (The Diaries of a Teenage Girl)