The Priest Read Online Free PDF Page B

as if he was attempting to hurt her.
His only hope was a quick death.
    Mauricio was left in that dark cell so long,
time simply ceased to have any meaning. The only interaction with
other human beings was thrice a day when the guards brought him
food. The women were under orders not to speak to him, for any
reason. When they were around him, the guards didn’t even speak to
each other.
    He was permitted a few minutes of walking
every other day, the only physical activity he was allowed. The
women never beat him, and the food, although bland, wasn’t
disgusting, but the isolation almost did him in.
    Time passed; the shackles anchoring him to
the wall were removed; the pain became bearable.
    Mauricio realized one day how long he had
been confined there when he ran his hand through his hair and found
that he could tie it in a ponytail. He still didn’t have a clue why
the women hadn’t killed him already. The longer they left him there
to rot, the more his imagination ran wild, conjuring tales of such
horror that once or twice he broke into tears.
    Finally, the day came when his future would
be revealed.
    Nobody told him anything, but the
electricity in the air was palpable. He could see from his cell the
guards moving around purposefully. The metal bars prevented him
from sticking his head out when nobody was close, but he saw
enough. And what he saw gave him pause.
    Maybe dying isn’t that bad , he
morosely thought. If I’m lucky, being dead is a permanent
state. Compared to what the guards wanted to do to him, it was
probably the best option. Maybe it’s just a bad dream, and I’ll
wake up any moment now.
    When an older woman appeared before the
metal bars of his cell, his worst fear took shape. He noticed that
she was wearing a billowy, colored dress and a headpiece. The older
woman raised one hand and several golden armbands slid down her
arm. The gesture meant something because several guards appeared at
her side.
    He nervously tugged the rigid collar around
his neck. He felt oddly reassured by the tingling sensation
bordering on pain, but it also meant that he wasn’t having a
nightmare.
    “Please, kill me as fast as possible,”
Mauricio pleaded. He knew it was a useless attempt, but he couldn’t
help it. He would have killed himself if he had a way.
    The older woman looked at him with mild
distaste and a great deal of curiosity. “Clean him and bring him to
the lab,” the woman said to someone else out of Mauricio’s sight.
He thought that the request was odd. If they were going to torture
him to death, why bother with a clean body? Mauricio looked on
quietly from his corner while the cell was opened, and he stood
still as one of the guards came closer, hooking a chain to his
collar. He finally followed the guards outside without attempting
any other conversation. Nothing he could say would make the
slightest difference in any case.
    The elegant, older woman led the small army
of guards ahead. Mauricio tried to straighten his body, but the
muscles in his legs were trembling, and the guard holding the chain
yanked him forward several times, making it impossible for him to
keep up. After a few minutes of walking, he started seeing dark
spots on the wall and fell twice, annoying the guard. He stood up
immediately after she struck him with a short whip.
    “What are you doing? You’re damaging the
semental,” the older woman said without turning around. Mauricio
wondered how she knew. “Don’t strike him again or he’ll faint, and
I need him awake,” she added, shaking her arm with a distinct sound
of bells.
    “Apologies, Priestess,” the guard said. And
then added under her breath, “He doesn’t walk fast enough. What am
I supposed to do?” She gave him a vicious tug. “Don’t make a single
noise, or I’ll come visit you later.”
    Mauricio distractedly made the mental
connection between the older woman leading him to his death and the
Priestess who had been mentioned by the guards before. I