Forfeit Souls (The Ennead Book 1) Read Free

it was covered by a long red runner – vivid in every fiber.
    I tried to focus on Demetrius. He was the least glaring thing in my environment at the moment, and so my eyes hurt the least when I was looking at him.
    “Why is he called Father, Demetrius?” I asked, hoping that my guide would be forthcoming.
    He just laughed at the question, and then turned to me as we walked. Taking in my expression, a realization dawned on him – it was evident in his face – and a smile parted his lips as he squinted one eye. “You really don’t know?”
    I looked at him blankly. Know what? Why should I know who he was? “Is he a priest?”
    The question received a snort. “Not in the least.” The face of my guide softened now, as though a preconceived notion had been the only thing causing him to harbor ill will toward me and he was now moving past his initial conceptions.
    I could tell that he wasn’t going to divulge his information outright. “Then a physician?” I asked, it would explain how I was still alive when I had been certain that the savage man that had attacked me had succeeded in killing me.
    “Nope, you’re cold.” He laughed as he said the words, turning around to walk backwards down the hall. He stared openly at me, like someone staring at an animal they had never seen before as they stood behind the fence at the zoo. His smile was a mixture of awe and wariness.
    “I’ve never met a convert that hadn’t known Father at least briefly before hand.” He looked at me appraisingly now. “You are a finer specimen than most he’s brought in.”
    “What do you mean?” I asked. He wasn’t making sense. “I’m a specimen?”
    “Don’t worry, there’s no experimentation that goes on here, unless you elect to experiment on yourself.” His eyes darted to the floor and a malevolent smile came to his lips. “Most who come into the fold choose to experiment. It’s one way to stave off the boredom.”
    All that he was doing was confusing me. Specimens and experimentation? Converts, the fold? What on earth was this man talking about? He offered no more explanation and so I could only assume that his intention had been to confuse me.
    He continued to stare at the carpet with his mischievous smile. I was certain that he would trip over something if he didn’t pay attention to where he was going, and soon. But he never faltered. His steps were fluid along the red shag. He looked as graceful as I felt.
    “You know,” he said as he broke free of his staring match with the floor, “most people ask if he’s God.”
    I did not laugh at that. I had entertained the thought of him being an angel for a brief moment… and then I had seen his eyes. Those were not the eyes of God, or even of a godly creature. “I would have been more likely to guess the Devil.” I said skeptically.
    “That is a common misconception as well.” His smile did not change.
    “What is he then?” I asked, annoyed by his dodging of my question.
    “Father is a little something different to all of us.” His smile faded. “To me he is the boss-man. For the moment he is your host.” He stopped in front of me and turned to the large double doors to his left.
    We had passed many such doors, I hadn’t meant to count – there were fifty three before this – but it had just been so easy to do in the back of my mind as I passed them. They were all the same dark mahogany with the pewter handles that had been in the first room. They were all exactly the same.
    That is, they were all the same until we came upon these. The massive wooden portals in front of me were black. They were not painted; the wood they were made from was simply a deep black, it appeared that the wood had been severely burned, but its integrity was still intact. Their handles were much more ornate than the others, though they were the same pewter.
    “The rest of your existence awaits.” Demetrius said in a dark tone as he pulled open the doors.
    The room on the other side