Chapter Text
Chapter 26 – Seeds of Dissent
"Leave us," Holloway ordered as James Sunderland was brought into the room.
The two cultists exchanged glances but obeyed Judge Holloway's order. They left the room without a word. The heavy door shut behind them. James shifted uncomfortably in his chair, wincing in pain as his ribs flared up again. His gaze darted from the Enforcer, still towering in the corner with a smug grin beneath his skull mask, to Angela, bound and trembling in the chair across from him. Her wide eyes met his for a moment before looking away, fear written all over her face.
Judge Holloway stepped forward to him, her heels echoed on the concrete floor. She stopped just short of James, her cold eyes dug into him. "Let's make one thing clear, Mr. Sunderland," she says, venomously. "Your suffering is only just beginning. Beating you to a pulp?" She gestured towards the Enforcer. "That was his idea of a warm-up."
The man chuckles, rolling his shoulders as if he were still loosening up. "Exercise," he says casually, the word dripping with amusement. "Got to keep myself sharp, you know. But this..." He motions towards Angela, sitting silently across from James, "...this is where things get interesting."
James glares at him. "You call breaking my ribs 'exercise'? What's this, then? Your idea of a seminar?"
The Enforcer let out a hoarse laugh. "Seminar? Nah. Think of this more like... interactive learning." He leans against the wall, lighting a fresh cigarillo with a snap of his lighter. "You've got questions to answer, Sunderland. And the Judge here, well, she's got the patience of a saint. Me?" Exhaling smoke into James's face and grinned. "Not so much."
Holloway unamused by the Enforcer's theatrics, crossed her arms. "You've already demonstrated resilience, Mr. Sunderland. Remarkable. But you've reached the limits of what stubbornness alone can accomplish for you. The people you care about? They're the ones who will suffer for your silence."
James stiffened at her words and snapped back to Angela. "Leave her out of this," James begged, "Please."
Angela flinched slightly but said nothing, her wrists were burning from the binds.
Holloway raised an eyebrow. "Well that's up to you, James. You've been running around, sticking your nose where it didn't belong, and trying to unravel the Order's plans. Tell me what you know, every detail, or I'll let my associate here continue his... methods. And trust me, he's very creative."
The Enforcer steps closer to James, his massive frame looming over him. "You're tough, I'll give you that," he says, almost admiring. "But toughness only gets you so far here. Everyone breaks eventually, Sunderland. The question is... how much do you want to lose before you do?"
James gritted his teeth, trying to maintain his composure. His mind raced as he looked at Angela again, guilt gnawing at him. He had to think fast, stall, buy time, anything to keep her safe. But how?
James narrowed his eyes at Holloway and the Enforcer, forcing himself to sit upright despite the sharp pain in his ribs. "I don't know what you think you're going to get out of me," he finally says, defiantly. "Angela and I? We've got nothing to gain by talking to you."
James glanced over to Angela, who looked like she was barely holding herself together, eyes darting anxiously between James and the Enforcer. "Whatever they're planning, we can't give them what they want," James says firmly. "Adam and Alex are still out there. They're still fighting. So should we."
The Enforcer tilts his head, clearly amused by James's defiance. He strides towards James. "You don't get it, do you, Mr. Sunderland?" he says. "You've got nothing left to fight with. But you sure as hell have a lot to lose."
Before James can give his response, the Enforcer walks over to a nearby table where a thick glass panel. With a single motion, he slams it down, shattering it into pieces. The Enforcer picked up a particularly sharp piece, turning it over in his hand as if admiring it. And then, without warning, he walked back over to James, grabbing his jaw with one powerful hand.
"Open wide, tough guy," the Enforcer growls. James struggled hard, but the Enforcer's grip was one of iron. Forcing James's mouth open, he shoves the J-shard between his lower jaw and mouth, the sharp edges cutting into the corners of his lips.
"Careful now," the Enforcer says with a grin, releasing James's face and stepping back just slightly. "Wouldn't want you to swallow. Those little shards? They'll rip you apart from the inside. And I'd hate to cut this chat short."
James glared at him, blood trickling from his mouth where the shard drew cuts. His breaths come sharp and shallow as he struggles to hold the glass in place.
The Enforcer raised a fist and punched James across the face, sending jolts of pain through him. Another punch followed and another after that, and James's head snapped to the side. Blood spills from his split lip and the fresh wounds in his mouth, but he manages to keep from swallowing the shards.
"You're a real piece of work, Sunderland," the Enforcer says, leaning down so his masked face is inches from James's. "I've met hard cases before, but you? You might be worth breaking."
Angela flinches at seeing James hurt like this, fresh tears streamed down her face, but she doesn't dare speak up and draw attention to herself.
Holloway watches the scene unfold in front of her, arms crossed. "I told you, James," she says. "Your silence doesn't protect anyone. All it does is prolong your suffering, and hers."
The Enforcer straightened up and gestured towards Angela with a wave of his hand. "And if you think this is bad, just wait until we get creative with her. Now..." He orders as he's cracking his knuckles. "Spit it out, Sunderland. What do you know? And don't make me repeat myself."
Holloway stepped forward, her voice as cold and sharp as the glass in James's mouth. "Our friend here is still moaning about his little whore of a wife, Mary." she sneers. "It's pathetic, James. Do you think holding onto her memory is going to save you? Save anyone? All it's done is bring you here."
James's eyes blazed with anger, his voice muffled by the glass but still filled with rage. "Don't talk about her like that, you witch!"
The Enforcer doesn't hesitate at this. With one swift, motion, he punches James again in the jaw, the impact causing James to struggle against his restraints. Blood spatter from his mouth as the glass shards shift, slicing into his gums. He gasps, but he refuses to cry out.
"Watch your tone," the Enforcer orders, shaking out his fist like the punch was nothing more than a warm-up. "That's no way to talk about my associate." He looks to Holloway with a mocking bow, as though he's defending her honor.
Angela, though trembling, finally snaps. "Stop it! Stop hurting him!" she cries, voice cracking, desperately pulling against her restraints. "He's done nothing to you! Just stop!"
The Enforcer turned on her like a predator spotting prey. Pointing a finger at her, "Easy there, princess!" he snarls, voice booming. "We haven't even started with you yet!"
Angela recoiled at him, the venom in his voice alone struck her like a physical blow, bringing her back to memories of a past she wanted so desperately to forget. Tears ran down her cheeks, but she glared back at him with as much defiance as she could muster.
James, though barely able to lift his head, spits blood onto the floor. "Leave her alone," he gasps, trembling. "This is between you and me."
"Is it now?" the Enforcer taunts, crossing his arms. "How noble of you. But that's not how this works." He motioned towards Angela. "If she's here, she's in this. Just like you. Just like the rest of them."
Holloway smirks. "You're not a hero, James. You're another failure. Broken. And by the time we're done with you, even you will see it."
The Enforcer rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck before turning his cold gaze back towards James. "And you know," he begins, voice a mixture of sadism and mockery, "I've snapped thicker necks than hers while working with Holloway here. It's not that hard. One good twist, a satisfying little crunch, and-"
Before James could react, the Enforcer moved with swift precision, yanking Angela upright and gripping her from behind in a rear-naked chokehold. His brawny arms coiled around her neck like a constrictor, her small frame trembling against his iron-like grip. She gasped and struggled, legs kicking weakly as he applied just enough pressure to send a message.
"A little jujutsu from my Marine Corps days," the Enforcer explains smugly as if they're in some twisted tutorial. He tightens his hold slightly, making Angela choke out a strangled whimper. His grin widens, directed toward James, a predator toying with its prey. "So, tell me, Mr. Sunderland, do you think her pretty little neck has what it takes to hold out? Or are you ready to open that big mouth of yours and save her?"
"And trust me, James," Holloway adds. "She'll get the easy way out."
James struggled against his restraints, veins bulging on his head as rage and desperation collided within him. "Let her go, you son of a bitch!" he shouts, his voice pained from the glass shards.
The Enforcer chuckles. "That's just not how any of this works, Sunderland. You know that. You've got two choices here: talk, or she pays for your silence. How about it?" He jerked Angela slightly, her head tilting at an unnatural angle as his grip tightened for a brief second. She gurgled and her struggle began weakening.
"Stop it!" James pleaded, the fight draining from his voice. "Just stop!"
Angela's tear-streaked face turns slightly toward James, her expression panicked yet defiant. She manages to croak out, "Don't… don't tell them anything… James…"
"Brave," the Enforcer says, his voice dripping with mockery as he loosened his grip just enough to keep her conscious. "But bravery only gets you so far, sweetheart." He turned his gaze back to James. "So, Sunderland. Hero time's running out. What's it gonna be?"
James groaned, his head tilting forward as if to escape the reality unfolding around him. His voice cracked with anguish and disbelief. "God damn… this can't be happening…"
The Enforcer sneered at this, a dark grin curling just under his skull mask. "Oh, it's happening, Sunderland." He released his hold on Angela, letting her crumple, gasping for air and trembling. Turning his attention back to James, the Enforcer unsheathed his karambit knife, the curved blade gleamed under the dull light.
He leaned forward, the edge of the blade streaking down James's cheek. He drew a shallow cut, just enough to let out blood along the line, before finally slamming the knife into James's thigh.
James let out a howl in agony, his body jerked against the restraints as pain shot through his leg. The Enforcer grabbed James by the jaw, forcing him to look directly into his cold eyes. "Do you believe this is happening now?!" he barked.
He twisted the blade slightly, drawing another cry from James. "My esteemed associate here," the Enforcer motioned his head towards Holloway, "leads the Order. And let me tell you what's coming for you. They'll tear you and that little girlfriend of yours limb from limb. They'll leave what's left of you to rot by the side of the road."
Angela whimpered weakly from her chair, but her words were lost beneath James's agony. The Enforcer let out a dry laugh as he yanked the knife from James's leg with a squelching sound and wiped the blade on James's shirt.
As James groaned, barely able to hold his head up, the Enforcer drew his handgun and leveled it at him. The barrel hovered inches away from James's face. "Tell us what she wants to know," he said, "and I promise… I'll take you out quick."
Holloway's eyes flickered with approval as she leaned in, flanking the Enforcer, hands folded neatly in front of her. "The choice is yours, James. Spare yourself and Ms. Orosco here further misery… or don't."
James hung his head, the fight drained from his body with every breath. Blood seeped through the gash on his face and soaked his thigh where the Enforcer's blade had pierced. Angela's whimpers reached his ears, breaking what little resolve he had left. He couldn't bear to see her suffer anymore because of him.
"I'll talk," James rasped. His eyes flicked towards Angela before looking back at the Enforcer. "Just… just leave her out of this."
The Enforcer smirked, lowering his gun slightly but kept it trained on James. "That's more like it. Go on, Mr. Sunderland. Enlighten us."
James inhaled sharply, forcing the words out despite the pain in his ribs, mouth, and leg. "Adam… he's got a few weapons stashes set up. I don't know all the details, but they're scattered all around Shepherd's Glen. Hidden in places he thought the Order wouldn't think to look."
Holloway narrowed her eyes and stepped closer. "And these stashes, are they civilian or military weapons? What kind of firepower are we talking about here?"
James shook his head weakly. "I don't know specifics. Some hunting rifles, maybe. But Adam… he's resourceful. He's ex-military. He could have gotten his hands on more than that."
The Enforcer leaned in, his cold stare locked onto James. "Is Adam planning to arm the civilians of Shepherd's Glen? Trying to stir up his little rebellion?"
James winced. "I don't know. All I know is that he and Alex… they've likely infiltrated your ranks by now. If I know my brother-in-law and nephew… Adam's a tactician. And Alex, if he's anything like his dad… he'll be the same. They wouldn't just come in guns blazing. They're smarter than that."
The Enforcer straightened up, amused by this. "Infiltrated, huh?" He exchanged a glance with Holloway. "Looks like we might have some rats among the robed sheep."
Holloway's lips curved into a thin, calculating smile. "This information might prove useful. Though, it raises more questions than it answers." She turned to James, her voice sharp. "Where would Adam and Alex go next? What's their endgame?"
James shook his head, his energy fading fast. "I don't know… I swear… To stop you, maybe."
The Enforcer scowled but lowered his gun, pacing back and forth. "If you're lying, Sunderland, it won't just be you who pays. Remember that."
Angela's breaths were ragged, her fear bubbled over into a final, desperate act. As the Enforcer prowled back and forth, she managed to yank an arm free from the restraints with a sharp pull and lunged for his gun. Her fingers wrapped around the grip, but before she could pull it away, the Enforcer reacted with frightening speed, slamming his hands down over hers.
"Oh, looks like your girlfriend's got a little fight in her!" he sneered, mocking her as they struggled over the weapon. The pistol wavered wildly in their grasp, the barrel swinging erratically as Angela fought with everything she had to wrench it free.
"Let go!" Angela yelled, trembling but fierce.
The Enforcer only laughed, his strength well overpowering hers. "Didn't anyone ever teach you not to aim guns at people?" His mocking tone grew louder as he pushed and pulled her hand back, forcing the barrel toward James. "They could go off!"
The sound of a gunshot echoed through the room as the trigger was inadvertently pulled, the bullet striking the wall just inches from James's head. James flinched, his eyes wide with shock as debris rained down from the impact.
"Stop it!" Angela screamed, her whole body straining as she tried to shift the aim away from James, but the Enforcer was too strong for her. He forced the gun down, firing another round that grazed the floor near James's feet.
"You're gonna get someone hurt like this, princess," the Enforcer taunted, his lips curled into a grin as he bore down on her. "How about we see if you've got the guts to pull the trigger yourself?"
Angela's face twisted with fury and desperation as she pushed back with all her strength, her hand trembling under the strain. "I won't let you hurt him!" she yelled.
Angela's desperate grip on the gun was no match for the Enforcer's brutal strength. He forced her trembling hand to tighten on the trigger, sending a series of shots into the room. The bullets fired wildly, slamming into the walls, the floor, and the chair James was bound to.
James flinched with every shot as he struggled to remain composed. When a round zipped past his head, inches from his ear, the last shreds of his control shattered. He gasped audibly, the fear coursing through him was overwhelming, and the evidence of his humiliation seeped into the fabric of his pants. He hung his head, shame, and terror.
The Enforcer's laughter was sharp. "That's what I like to see!" he barked with satisfaction. He twisted the gun out of Angela's hands, before raising his hand and struck her across the face with a powerful backhand. Angela staggered from the blow, her lip split, but her eyes burned with defiance even as tears welled up.
"You've got fire in you, girl!" the Enforcer snarled, standing over her. "I like that! Risking your life to protect your little boyfriend."
"We're not like that!" James croaked. He tried to straighten in his chair despite his wounds, his face twisted in both anger and despair. "We're not… Angela has nothing to do with this."
Judge Holloway stepped forward, her voice calm yet icy, cutting through the tension like a blade. "But you've brought her into this, Mr. Sunderland," she said. "She's your responsibility. And now, you're both suffering for your choices."
James clenched his fists. He glanced at Angela, who met his gaze with anger and fear, her cheek already bruising.
Angela spat blood onto the floor, her voice trembled but filled with rage. "You're monsters. Both of you."
The Enforcer smirked, wiping his hands together as though brushing off dirt. "That's rich, coming from someone who just mag-dumped her 'not-boyfriend.'" He chuckled darkly. "You're not in control here, sweetheart. Try that again, and I might not be so nice."
Angela glared up at him, her chest heaving, defiance still burning in her eyes despite the fear she was feeling. The Enforcer let out a low chuckle as he put the gun back into its holster as though the entire ordeal had been nothing more than a game.
"Well, wasn't that exciting?" he said, turning back to James, who sat frozen in his chair, blood dripping from his wounds. "Looks like your little girlfriend's got more spine than you, Sunderland. Maybe I should be asking her the questions instead. But don't worry, princess. You'll both have plenty of time to figure out how this is all his fault."
Angela only glared daggers at him, but she was trembling.
The Enforcer loomed over Angela, his hulking frame casting a shadow that seemed to swallow the light in the room. He rubbed his jaw mockingly as if to inspect for damage she hadn't managed to do, then let out a low chuckle.
"You know," he said, "I deliberately left those restraints loose enough to see what you'd do. And look at you, trying to take my gun. You've got guts, I'll give you that." He crouched to her level, his grin more feral than friendly. "I respect that."
Angela glared up at him, she didn't respond, but her eyes burned with fury and defiance.
The Enforcer turned his attention back to James, his expression shifting to one of utter disdain. "You could learn a thing or two from her, Sunderland. She fights back. Takes risks. You? You're just sitting there, pissing yourself and moaning about how bad it is."
James, humiliated and enraged, raised his head to meet the Enforcer's gaze. His voice was quiet but firm. "She's not your pawn. You don't get to treat her like some game."
The Enforcer's grin widened. "Oh, but she made her move, didn't she? That makes her a player now. And guess what? She's already a better player than you'll ever be." He stood and crossed his arms, looking down at James. "You think your nephew and brother-in-law are out there fighting? Good for them. But if they're anything like you, they'll die like you: whining and weak."
Angela finally found her voice, her words sharp despite her trembling. "You don't know anything about him. Or them."
The Enforcer tilted his head, feigning consideration. "Maybe not, sweetheart. But I know enough to see that right now, the only one here with any backbone is you." His gaze swept back to James, cold and unforgiving. "You're lucky she's here, Sunderland. Without her, you'd have already been in a shallow grave by now."
James didn't reply. He looked at Angela, in shame. Angela refused to meet his gaze, her focus remaining on the Enforcer, her lips tight and her jaw set.
The Enforcer took a step back, giving them both a twisted smile. "Well, this has been fun. But I think you've both got a lot to think about now." He glanced back at Holloway. "What's next, Judge? Should we give them some quality time to reflect on their failures?"
Holloway waved a hand dismissively, expression cold and distant. "Do whatever you want with them," she said, turning toward the door. "I'm delegating all the work of finding Alex and Adam to you. You've proven more... efficient in these matters."
The Enforcer arched an eyebrow, watching her with a smirk. "Efficient, huh? Flattery will get you nowhere, Judge, you know that." He shifted his weight, his voice adopting a playful, mocking tone. "Is this for the Order's grand plans, or that other project you've been so fond of whispering about lately?"
Holloway froze for just a fraction of a second before glancing over her shoulder, her face unreadable. "Stick to your task, Graves," she said. "I have work to do."
As she left the room, the door closing behind her with a sharp clang, the Enforcer turned back to his captives. He let out a low whistle, spinning his karambit knife in his hand. "Now, what do you suppose she meant by another project, huh?" He tilted his head mockingly, his eyes locking on James. "You think it's something fun? Something big? Something nasty?"
James didn't answer, but his mind was racing. "Other project?" He didn't have a clue what they were talking about, but if he could survive this and pass that piece of information on to Adam, it might give them an edge. Anything could help... anything at all.
The Enforcer leaned down, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I can see the wheels turning, Sunderland. Don't get any bright ideas. You're still mine until I say otherwise."
Angela glared up at him, her voice sharp. "You'll choke one day."
The Enforcer smirked as he pulled his handgun back out from its holster. "I said I'd make it quick," he mused, leveling the barrel directly at James's forehead. His voice dropped into a low, almost playful tone. "Time to die, Sunderland."
James's breath caught in his throat, his eyes fixed on the gun. His pulse thundered in his ears as he squeezed his eyes shut, his voice trembling as he muttered under his breath, "Not like this. God, not like this."
A click shattered the tension.
James blinked his eyes open, staring at the Enforcer, who was grinning from ear to ear. He held up the empty weapon, wagging it mockingly. "Oh, too bad, James. Looks like it's your lucky day."
Angela let out a sharp breath, a mix of relief and anger flashing across her face. "You're sick," she spat.
The Enforcer turned his gaze back to her. "Sick? Oh, babe, I'm just getting warmed up." He holstered the empty gun and crouched down to James's level, his tone dripping with mock sympathy. "See, that little scare wasn't for fun... well, maybe just a little. But I needed to make sure you know how serious I am. Holloway's willing to let me off the leash, James. And when that happens? People tend to disappear."
James said nothing, his bleeding lips pressed as he glared at the man before him. He wouldn't give the Enforcer the satisfaction of seeing him break.
The Enforcer straightened up, his expression shifted to something darker. "I hope you're paying attention, Sunderland. Because if you're holding back on us... next time, the chamber won't be empty."
The Enforcer then barked a laugh, standing upright and tossing his knife into the air before catching it effortlessly. "Maybe. But it won't be today." He turned toward the door, his movements unhurried but purposeful. "Sit tight, both of you. I've got some work to do. Don't get too comfortable... I'll be back soon enough."
With that, he strode out, leaving James and Angela alone in the cold, oppressive room. James exhaled shakily, the ache in his thigh reminding him of the blade still embedded there. He glanced at Angela. "I'm sorry," he murmured, guilt overwhelming. "For dragging you into this."
Angela didn't look at him, she was trying hard not to be angry with James. It was, after all, him leaving her letters in his car that dragged her into this. "Just… just save it, James," she said flatly. "You heard them. Something is going on, something outside their 'Order'. We have to figure out what it is." Her voice softened, just slightly. "If we can get out of here... we might still have a chance."
James nodded, though his heart felt heavy. "A chance", he thought grimly. "But at what cost?"
In a dimly lit corner of one of the prison's less active wings, a small group of cultists had gathered. Their voices were hushed yet tense as they shared their apprehension. Curtis stood among them, leaning against the wall with a cigarette dangling between his fingers. He exhaled, watching the smoke dissipate before giving a sideways glance to the younger cultists.
"You're overthinking it," Curtis muttered, though his tone revealed a hint of doubt. "It's not our job to question the timing. We follow orders, plain and simple."
One cultist, a wiry man with a nervous twitch, shook his head. "But it doesn't add up, Curtis. Think about it. Adam Shepherd didn't start his rebellion until after the monsters started appearing. The timeline's all wrong. It's like… what triggered what? Did the monsters come because of Adam's defiance, or was it the other way around?"
Another cultist, a woman with cropped black hair, chimed in. "It's not just that, Curtis. There was a specific date for the sacrifices. All four families knew it. The Holloways, the Shepherds, the Fitches, the Bartletts. Everyone else did it on schedule. Why didn't Adam?"
Curtis frowned, taking a long drag from his cigarette. "You think I know? We weren't exactly privy to the inner circle's meetings. The families kept everything locked down tight. Hell, we didn't even know half the things they were planning until they ordered us to carry them out."
The wiry man looked around nervously, as though afraid their conversation might be overheard. "But doesn't it bother you? Adam was supposed to sacrifice Alex. Everyone knows that. And when he didn't, the Shepherds became the center of everything falling apart. But these monsters... they weren't part of the plan. Whatever this is, it's not like anything we were prepared for."
Curtis blew out another puff of smoke. "I'll tell you what bothers me," he said quietly. "We were told the sacrifices were supposed to keep this town safe. Keep our god happy. So why the hell are things worse than ever? Why are those... things... tearing through our people? Why are we still fighting to hold on to this prison?"
The woman crossed her arms, her brows furrowed. "Maybe Holloway knows something we don't. Maybe this is all part of the plan."
"Or maybe," Curtis said, his voice dropped lower, "there's something she's not telling us. Something the Shepherds knew and we don't. Think about it, why would Adam, a guy who served the Order all his life, suddenly go rogue? What did he find out?"
The wiry man shivered, as though the question itself carried a chill. "Whatever it is, we're the ones paying the price for it."
Curtis crushed his cigarette underfoot. "All I know is, this isn't what I signed up for. And if the Judge or anyone else thinks they can keep us in the dark forever, they've got another thing coming. Keep your heads down. And don't let anyone hear you talking like this. The Enforcer's always listening."
The nervous conversation among the cultists took a sharp turn as one of them, a tall man with a shaved head and a stern expression, spoke up. His voice cut through like a blade.
"Maybe Holloway is lying to us. About all of this. About everything."
The group fell silent, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air. Even the faint hum of the prison's old lighting seemed distant in the stillness. Curtis turned to face him sharply, both in anger and unease.
"You don't know what the hell you're talking about," Curtis snapped, stepping closer to the man. His voice was low, and dangerous, but carried uncertainty. "You know how dangerous it is to even say something like that? Keep your damn mouth shut before someone hears you."
The tall man didn't flinch. "Dangerous? Maybe. But look around, Curtis. Nothing about this makes sense anymore. We were told the sacrifices would protect this town, protect us. But the monsters came anyway. Adam was supposed to be the problem, that's what she told us, but even after his rebellion, we're still fighting to survive. Doesn't that tell you something?"
Curtis grabbed him by the collar, shoving him back against the wall. "What it tells me," Curtis hissed, "is that you're talking like a damn fool. Do you even know what you're implying? If Holloway's lying... if she's not following Dahlia's vision, then-"
"Then she's no better than a heretic!" the tall man interrupted, his voice steady despite Curtis's grip. "Or a blasphemer."
Curtis froze for a moment, the words cut through his anger like a knife. He didn't want to think about it. Didn't want to consider the possibility that their leader, the woman who had led them with such conviction, could be anything less than the embodiment of their Order's will.
"This is unprecedented," the black-haired woman muttered, breaking the silence. She was staring at the floor, her arms crossed tightly. "The sacrifices, the monsters, the rebellion. None of this is how it was supposed to go. If she's lying to us... if she's using us... then what the hell are we even fighting for?"
Curtis released the tall man and took a step back, dragging a hand down his face. "You don't think I've thought about this?" he muttered. "You don't think I haven't asked myself the same damn questions? But saying it out loud? Do you think that's going to help? You think we're going to just overthrow Holloway and make everything better?"
The tall man straightened his jacket, his expression grim. "If Holloway's leading us astray, then it's not just our right to question her, it's our duty. The Order was supposed to be about devotion to the god, not to one woman's ambition."
Curtis clenched his fists, staring at the floor. "If you're right... and if she's lying to us... then everything we've done, everything we've sacrificed, was for nothing. The Order we've served our whole lives... it's already dead."
The group fell silent again, their unspoken fears pressing down on them. Curtis lit another cigarette, his hands shaking slightly. "Keep this to yourselves," he muttered. "We can't afford to fall apart now. Not yet. Not while there's still a chance to figure out what the hell's going on."
"We need time," Curtis continued, his eyes scanning each of them. "Time to confirm what we suspect. Until then, we keep our heads down and our mouths shut. Act normal, like everything's fine. But keep an eye on Holloway. Watch her moves, her decisions, and who she's meeting with. And while you're at it... keep an eye on that Enforcer of hers too."
One of the cultists frowned, her brow furrowed in confusion. "The Enforcer? What about him?"
Curtis took a long drag of his cigarette, exhaling smoke through his nose as he considered his words carefully. "That man's been working for Holloway for years, but he's never been one of us. He doesn't share the Order's beliefs and never has. He doesn't care about Dahlia's vision or our god. The only thing he believes in is Holloway, and I don't trust anyone who's that loyal to one person."
The tall man folded his arms, nodding slowly. "He's a wild card, that's for sure. The way he acts, the things he says... it's like he's playing a different game entirely."
"Exactly," Curtis said, pointing at him with his cigarette. "We don't know what his endgame is, but whatever it is, it sure as hell isn't about preserving the Order. He'll do whatever Holloway tells him to, no matter how far off the rails she goes. And if we're right about her... then he's just as dangerous as she is."
The group fell silent, their situation settled over them like a shroud. Curtis took one last drag of his cigarette before flicking it to the ground and crushing it under his boot.
"Stay sharp," he said. "Bide your time, gather what you can, but don't do anything… reckless. If Holloway catches wind of this, we're all as good as dead. And if that Enforcer catches wind... well, you've seen what he's capable of."
The cultists nodded grimly and He turned and walked away, leaving the others to wrestle with their doubts. Curtis turned back towards the group after taking a few steps, a new cigarette dangled from his lips. His voice was low, barely above a whisper, but it carried a command.
"Listen to me, and listen good," he growled. "We don't say a word of this to anyone else. Not a damn soul. We're treading on dangerous ground here, and if we're wrong... well, you don't want to find out what happens if we're wrong."
The cultists exchanged uneasy glances but nodded in agreement. Curtis's tone left no room for argument.