Satan's Vessel

12.

The laughter snapped off, and the next time Kaitlyn lifted her head she'd returned to the little room at the back of the church. His laughter kept echoing in her head. She could still taste the saltiness of his cum in her mouth. Worst of all, she could sense his presence, almost as though he was there in the room with her.

Kaitlyn flipped onto her back and sat up, her heart pounding so hard her chest ached. But the room was empty. She could almost cry. She remembered. She remembered! And it was exactly what she'd feared her dreams were—worse. She was a slut! She was whore! How could she? How could she?

She thought of Jacob and the rest of the angels. She'd betrayed them. All their kindness and patience—and look what she proved herself to be. Father Bartholomew had been right to do what he'd almost done. Perhaps she should just die. If she couldn't even resist him in dreams, then how was she going to resist him in reality?

You cannot resist me. You were designed for me.

No. It wasn't because of that. She was just weak. That was all. She was disgusting. Even now, as she wallowed in her guilt and misery, she felt herself burning. She was so wet. She was so hot. He hadn't satisfied her. The urge to complete what he'd started was so strong her hand was down her skirt before she stopped herself. No. This was a church! And there were angels in the next room! Besides, what if God was watching?

Kaitlyn gazed into the darkness, panting. Grabbing up her pillow, she crushed it to her chest. She'd never felt so filthy in all her life. Shame and guilt and horror tied a sicking knot in the pit of her stomach. How could she look at herself again? How could she look at Jacob or the others again? If they knew what was happening, what would they think of her?

It made her want to vomit.

She'd never done something like that before, never in her dreams and certainly never in reality. It was disgusting. And yet, even as she remembered, she felt herself aching for the experience, she felt herself yearning for him. To have him back in her mouth ... To have him inside her ... To have him coat her in his seed ... To fall pregnant to him ... To have his baby ...

Appalled, she turned her head. What was happening to her?

Her skin prickled, sticky and dirty. She desperately needed the bathroom. The electric light threw eery shadows against the walls. She looked down the hall. The light seemed brighter. Please let it be morning. She couldn't go to sleep again.

'What am I going to do?' she asked the darkness.

The walls were silent. The darkness was suffocating. She dropped her face into her hands with a gasp.

For the rest of the early morning, Kaitlyn stayed in her room, staring at the wall, waiting as the grey light down the hall grew brighter and brighter. She couldn't go out there. How was she going to face them? They would see her shame. Her guilt was probably written all over her face.

When she thought of Jacob her heart lurched. After all his efforts, she couldn't even do her bit. Surely, resistance was a simple thing.

And she couldn't even do that.

Kaitlyn turned at the sight of movement, a man's shadow thrown up against the wall. The sound of footsteps followed. Wriggling back into bed, she threw her blanket over her head. The footsteps got closer. She sensed someone standing in her doorway.

'Kaitlyn?' a voice said quietly. It was Zeke. She didn't move. She didn't want to move. Let him go away. 'Kaitlyn?'

It could be worse; at least it wasn't Jacob.

After several moments, he left and Kaitlyn curled up in a ball, biting at her knee.

She stayed resolutely awake as time slipped by. Then she heard more footsteps, louder this time. She sensed another presence in her doorway. Kaitlyn kept herself hidden away. She was thirsty. She was hungry. And she was busting to go to the toilet. Not to mention she felt so incredibly uncomfortable—she desperately needed a change of clothes, particularly her underwear. Kaitlyn wondered if the angels had thought to bring her any in their bags.