Scarleton Series I : Before the Cult Read Online Free PDF Page A

lifted me
off the chair with his arm placed under my knees and the other
under my shoulder blades. I was a dead weight in his arms. He
placed me in bed, took my shoes off and pulled my pants off. Then
he covered me with the duvet.
    He patted my
arms. “Sleep well.”
    I could only
manage to thank him mentally.
    “Would you like
us to leave?” Macfearson asked.
    I did not
answer.
    “Sandz?”
    I could not
respond. The truth is I did not care or know the answer.
    “Okay,” said
Macxermillio. “Um…we gonna take the rest of your bottles to the
fridge in case you want it later.”
    Upon opening my
eyes from sleep I saw a figure sitting in a chair watching me sleep
or waiting until I wake up. I froze in my sleeping position. In the
silence, the figure leaned back in the chair with his legs crossed.
He appeared to be wearing a robe, his tall silhouette seemed to
suggest. No noises came from the hallway which was a sign that it
was late at night. The life of the residence was inactive, some
students must be already in bed, went out or were surfing the
internet or using their computer for something else absorbing.
    Sweat broke on
my brow and I strained my breath. After a few minutes I gathered
enough strength to say something. I figured the best strategy would
be to exert enough confidence and surprise the intruder by not
sounding caught off guard.
    “What the hell
are doing?” I said.
    If he is
here to kill me that would be nice , I thought.
    The figure
leaned forward. He murmured , “You don’t need to do it anymore. We
heard him speak in the hallway we got the information we
needed.”
    “Who?” I
frowned.
    “ Jay,” it was
Macxermillio. “We are nabbing him tonight. If you want you could
rest, we only sampling him tomorrow. Me and Fearson can handle
him.” I could sense him smiling in the dark. “Prepare to bid him
farewell.”
    “Thank you.
What were you doing?”
    “I was just
watching you sleep.”
    I frowned.
“That’s kinda weird.”
    “Well, I wanted
to tell you face to face. I had to wait. I know how you hate being
woken up.”
    He stood up and
walked to the door, the floor creaked under his weight. He opened
the door and stood in the doorway, the florescent light from the
hallway fell into my room, laying his giant shadow across. He
glanced my way. “Goodnight, Sandz. You know, after tomorrow we
won’t have to live like this anymore…if all goes well.”
    “Goodnight,
Macx.”
    He closed the
door behind him and the darkness took over the room again.
     

Chapter
2

1
     
    One of those
things that weren’t for sober minds was the sampling.
     
    We were not
afraid of death whether it was the image of it or the sight of it
or its imminence. We honoured and revered it; if it came we would
embrace it. We wanted to die (both because of the pain of our
existence here and the fact it could transport us where our
existence is welcomed), but we just had to do it right. The trick
of the sampling was tormenting the soul and the body of the sample
until we broke its will to carry on living in this world, much like
the same tormenting worthlessness this world imposes on us until
suicide presents itself as the only way. We did whatever it took,
decapitation, drowning, flaying, mutilation and all sorts of
torture, to make them grovel for their own death. We offer them a
way out in a form of suicide we choose. This way their state of
mind is bit similar to ours, their death is self-inflicted and
possibly when they transition we will be able to tell from
observing their eyes where they end up (heaven, hell or our home).
It can take days, weeks or months to get them to that state but we
always managed to push them there. If the way of suicide, which is
a form of transportation of the soul, is discovered that would take
us home (as the calling made us feel) we would do it without a
flinch. It’s not the pain that concerns us, the more the pain the
better (Macxermillio says you will be able to feel the death