Stupid boy. Idiot boy. You’ve gone and fucked everything up.

Ayan’s father kicked at him, punched him, threw him into the wall.

He didn’t feel the wall. He fell through it. Through the ground. Through the earth.

He was floating in the aether. In space and nothingness.

There was something, a leash on his wrists, keeping him grounded to the planet. But otherwise, he was floating away.

He was alone. In darkness. Frightened. Elated. Everything was okay. It would all be okay. He could drift away, and father couldn’t touch him anymore. He cried tears of joy at the thought.

He felt as he had that day he and Ravi had run away to the playground, when they had played on the swings for hours as they stayed far from their father’s wrath. A moment of contentment, with something dark peeking over the horizon, reminding him of the horrible consequences later. But it didn’t matter. As the wind whipped through his hair, as he swung back and forth with his eyes closed, feeling his stomach toss and tumble, Ravi’s laughter in his ear, he was at peace.

He felt the terror seep back in. Sudden and suffocating. A memory coming up, with the sharpness and clarity of the day it had first taken place.

It was morning. Minutes before his alarm clock was meant to go off. Before he was meant to go in to work at the bakery he had gotten his first job at when he couldn’t go back to college. When it was more important to find a place to settle down and take care of Ravi.

Something cool and smooth was lying against his throat, slowly rousing him from his sleep. He opened his eyes to see Ravi sitting on the bed, something in his hand, something pressed to Ayan’s neck.

“I’m sorry,” Ravi whimpered, “but this is the only way we can be free of him.”

“Ravi, what?” Ayan reached up a hand to try and figure out what Ravi was holding, and ended up slicing his finger on the very sharp knife in Ravi’s grasp. “Jesus,” Ayan breathed, “What are you doing?”

“If I try any other way, and it doesn’t work, he’ll hurt you. Again and again. He’ll torture you, like he did our whole lives. I can’t let him do that anymore, Ayan. I can’t let him harm you. It’s only a minute of pain, and then it’s all over, and I’ll join, and we’ll be together, and safe from him. We’ll be with our mother again.” Ravi was crying. His face, ever a mirror of Ayan’s, was crumpled up in agony as tears streamed down.

Ayan was still attempting to get his bearings, absolutely horrified at what was happening at the same time as he was so terribly confused.

“Ravi, are you dreaming?” Ayan asked. Ravi had been sleepwalking recently, a side-effect of the head injury he had sustained from their father.

“I’m very much awake,” Ravi said, sending ice to Ayan’s veins.

“Put down the knife,” Ayan said quietly, placing a hand gently over his brother’s in an attempt to pull him away. Instead, Ravi applied more pressure, and Ayan winced as he felt the blade cut into his skin.

“Ravi, please…”

“I should have protected you,” Ravi said. “I would give anything to go back and protect you. To save you from everything he did to you.”

“You know I would do the same,” Ayan breathed, hand shaking on top of Ravi’s. “I’d do anything for you, Ravi. Please, give me the knife, so we can talk about this.”

“I had a dream. He came to our home. He tied us up like he used to do. Did horrible things. Again and again and again. He was so angry at us for leaving him alone. I watched him take you apart, peel you away piece by piece, until there was nothing left but your scream. I can’t let him do that again. This is the best way. You have to understand.”

“Ravi, you have always protected me. Always. But if you do this, he wins. If you let him win, you will have hurt me more than he ever could,” Ayan said, adrenaline pumping this last ditch effort thought into his head. “I love you. You have to let me go.”

Ravi looked at him in momentary confusion, then realization rushed over his face, and he gasped, pulling the knife away from Ayan’s throat, jumping out of the bed, and stumbling backward several steps. Ayan’s hand went to his neck, where he felt warm wet blood from where the blade had pressed against his skin. He sat up, chest heaving, heart pounding, eyes glued to Ravi.

“I’m so sorry,” Ravi whimpered, shaking violently as he wiped his face with the back of his sleeve. “I can’t see you hurt again.”

“I’m going to call someone, okay?” Ayan said, nodding his head for emphasis. “We’re going to get you some help.”

Ravi shook his head, “No no, it’s too late. I can’t do this anymore. I hurt you. I would never hurt you, but I did. I’m so sorry, Ayan. I’m so sorry.”

Ayan slowly moved across the bed and stood up, hands held passively before him as he walked toward his brother, desperate to get the knife out of his hands.

“It’s going to be okay,” Ayan said, taking a tentative step toward Ravi.

“Promise me something,” Ravi said.

“Anything,” Ayan said.

“Promise you’ll make the world a better place, in spite of him,” said Ravi.

Ayan nodded.

“Promise me,” Ravi repeated.

“I promise,” said Ayan.

Ravi moved so quickly that Ayan had no chance to react. He dragged the knife across his own throat in one smooth motion, then a moment later, collapsed to the floor in a spurting river of blood.

“No!” Ayan screamed, collapsing to his knees with his brother, grabbing his throat, attempting to stem the flow of blood. Seconds later, it was all over. Ayan didn’t even have a chance to reach his phone. Ravi was dead.

The memory of Ravi’s body lingered for a moment, his big brown eyes staring up at Ayan.

You have to wake up.

Ravi’s voice telling him, but his mouth not moving.

Ayan, wake up. You’ve got to wake up.

“Ayan?” He heard his name called distantly, like it was spoken across space and time.

You’re in danger, and you have to wake up.

He forced himself to concentrate, to search for something solid. His body. Ayan put all his effort into finding his way back into his body.

“Ayan, we have to get out.”

The voice was so familiar. Short. No shoes. Bruises on his face.

He found something solid. His fingers. He flexed them. They were stiff, but he didn’t care. There was a groan. Was that him?

“Wake up!”

Keep going, you’re almost there.

He found his toes, his feet, twisting them around. He was lying down. No, sitting. His legs stretched out before him on a hard surface. Something was tugging on his arms. He attempted to orient himself in space. With great effort, he found his eyes again, forcing them open.

The world was a blur, a kaleidoscope of color and vague shapes.

“Ayan!”

That familiar voice again. He blinked his eyes several times, trying to force them to clear, to allow himself to see. Tried to move his fingers to rub them, but his hands wouldn’t move, wrists raw and held tightly to…something. It took some time, impossible to tell how much, until he was fully able to control his body again, to pull himself up to a full sitting position, to look out of his eyes and see something other than obscurity.

He slowly turned to his right, to the sound of the voice calling for him.

Charlie.

Charlie lying on the floor, his wrists bound behind him, ankles tied together, staring at Ayan with wide terrified eyes.

“Chahleee,” Ayan slurred as he attempted to speak his first word since waking up.

“We have to get out of here,” Charlie hissed. He might as well have been speaking underwater.

Adrenaline was beginning to coarse through Ayan’s veins now as his brain slowly took in the reality of the situation. Nausea was bubbling in his gut, threatening to encroach on his esophagus. Charlie was begging him for some coherence. Ayan was struggling to find it.

“Can you get out of your binds? I can barely move in mine. They’re too tight. It’s starting to cut off my circulation,” Charlie buzzed.

Ayan was trying to process what he was saying. How the hell was he so coherent? Was he given whatever Ayan had been given?

Pay attention! You have to get out of this!

“Sorry,” Ayan murmured.

Ayan looked down at the binds on his wrists. A thin white rope snaked around his skin, securing him tightly to a bar that was bolted into the side of the van just about chest level with him sitting down.

“I don’t know what that psycho is going to do! He picked me up, telling me we were going to see you, to help you out with something. Then the bastard stabbed me in the neck with a needle! He tricked me into trusting him by giving me money and a place to stay, and he’s probably a goddamn serial killer! I should have paid attention. Fuck me! This always happens to me.”

Ayan started to tune out Charlie’s ramble as he focused on the ropes, his mind too fuzzy to take in two things at once.

Not too complicated. Just like the ones father made us escape from.

“Father never drugged us,” Ayan muttered.

“What?” Charlie asked.

Ayan ignored him.

Untying himself was easier said than done in his current state. Still, he had to try. Ayan leaned over as far as he could, straining his neck as he used his teeth to pull at the closest end bit of rope he could find. He used his feet, which he realized were completely bare for some reason, to maneuver himself into a position closer to the binds. His mind buzzed as he forced his thoughts onto the task at hand, and away from the fact that he still felt barely in control of his body. There was a little bit of give as he used his teeth to carefully navigate the end of the rope out bit by bit. The process was painful, and after a few minutes, he saw the first drip of blood fall from his mouth and land on the white rope.

“I think it’s working,” Charlie said. “Keep going!”

Suddenly, the van shuddered to a stop, causing Ayan to slam into the wall. He looked over to see Charlie shifting around, staring at him with wide terrified eyes. They both heard the slam of the door, then footsteps coming around the side of the van. Ayan froze in terror as the back door opened, and Elijah stood there looming, a strange look on his face.

“It was important for you to be awake to witness this,” Elijah said, looking at Ayan with that steady unblinking gaze.

Ayan’s chest rose and fell with deep shuddering breaths as he looked at Elijah, terrified to see what he was going to do next. He didn’t have to wait long as Elijah glanced up at the corner of the van, where Ayan could just make out the small dark shape of what was presumably one of his tiny cameras. A moment later, there was a swoosh and a shout as Charlie was grabbed by the ankle and dragged across the floor of the van toward the door.

“Wait!” Ayan cried, at a loss for what else to say. Elijah smiled at Ayan now as he pressed one heavy hand on Charlie’s chest to hold him down in place.

“Fuck you! Get the fuck off of me!” Charlie cried.

Elijah looked down at Charlie now. “I’m sorry you’re frightened. Believe me, if there was any other way I could have done it, I would have, but it has to be like this.”

“Elijah, don’t,” Ayan begged.

“Whoever shuts his ears to the cry of the poor will also cry himself and not be heard. You don’t know it yet, but you will help to set them free, Charlie. Your sacrifice will end the plight of the impoverished. In God’s kingdom, you will rest easy knowing you have helped to make the world a better place for people like you.” Elijah’s words had a terrifying finality to them.

“Fuck off!” Charlie cried as Elijah pulled something from the back of his belt. A dagger. Sheathed in red leather. With the head of a cross, and an ornate inlay of gems, which Ayan could just see from where he sat across the van.

“No!” Ayan screamed, head spinning, his breathing ragged now as he pulled desperately against his binds. “Don’t do this! Elijah, please! Please!”

It almost looked like Elijah winced as he pulled the dagger from its sheath, once again placing a strong hand on Charlie’s chest as he tried to squirm away.

“Fear no more, my friend. Heaven awaits,” Elijah said calmly, before plunging the dagger into Charlie’s chest not once, not twice, but several times.

“No!” Ayan screamed again, watching helplessly in horror as Charlie gasped, as blood began to spread in maroon blooms from the fresh holes in his chest. Then after a minute, his body went limp.

A full-blown panic attack engulfed Ayan, prickling over his head, through his body, causing the bubble of nausea to fight its way further up his chest. His lungs felt compressed, unable to breathe. He fought for air with rasping gasps, shuddering rapid shallow breaths. Elijah was pulled out of his murderous reverie and seemed to notice Ayan’s plight as he placed the dagger back in his belt, climbed past Charlie’s body, and crawled across the van to sit before Ayan.

“N-n-n,” Ayan shook his head rapidly, shrinking away from Elijah’s looming presence, so certain that he was next.

“It’s not your time yet,” Elijah said quietly. “We still have a few days. It’s okay, just breathe.”

Easier said than done. Ayan flinched as Elijah cupped his face in strong and strangely tender hands.

“It hurts to see you so frightened, though I know you were before. How you begged your father to spare you. This is your moment in the garden. Lean into it. Let it wash over you. By the end, you will be ready.”

“W-what?” Ayan gasped.

“You are the Lord, Jesus. Our savior. Christ. The author of salvation. The Lamb of God. The Almighty.”

“No, no, we ha-we have to help him,” Ayan begged. “Please…”

“While I am certain you could raise him from the dead as you did Lazarus, and Sakura, his sacrifice is important. You’ll understand soon enough. Charlie’s physical body must end here in order for his sacrifice to have meant something. Just as your sacrifice will mean something.”

Ayan was still struggling to control his breathing. At any moment, he thought he might pass out.

“Just breathe, okay? Deep breaths, in and out. In and out. I know it’s a lot to take in. I’ve struggled with it too, but I know you will come to understand. Together, we’re going to save the world.”

Ayan sucked in a sharp breath, “Please, I’m not him. I’m not Jesus. I have no gifts. I just want to help Charlie. Help me save him, Elijah. Pl-please.”

A disappointed look came over Elijah’s face, and he let go of Ayan as he shook his head, “I knew you wouldn’t get it right away. It’s still hard, seeing that you don’t yet understand, that you don’t yet accept what we are going to accomplish.”

“There’s still a chance,” Ayan pleaded, glancing out of the corner of his eye at the growing pool of blood behind Elijah.

“I’m losing daylight. I’ll be back soon, and then we can have a proper discussion,” Elijah said, his disappointment turning to a grin now. “Just relax. Pray. Overcome the fear inside you and know that you are doing the right thing here.”

Elijah turned and crawled out of the van, avoiding most of the blood as he did so. He dragged Charlie’s body out and dropped it on the ground with a grunt.

“Wait!” Ayan pleaded, “Wait!”

Elijah slammed both doors closed behind him.

“Elijah!” Ayan screamed. It was all a terrible dream. He had woken up from the drug to this bizarre reality, and now in the dim light of the van, all he could see was the puddle of blood where Charlie had lain moments before. He continued to fight the urge to vomit as he struggled to breathe.

You have to get out of here.

“I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe,” Ayan gasped, the panic washing over more violently now. “I’m gonna die. He’s going to kill me, l-like he killed Charlie…”

The world was dimming before his eyes as his lungs fought for air.

You’re not going to die. We’re going to get you out of this. One thing at a time. Drop your shoulders.

Ayan nodded, dropping his shoulders.

Relax your jaw.

Easier said than done, but he managed that too.

Breathe in and hold.

He did. Then out slowly.

That’s it. Blowing out the birthday candles. And again.

Again and again until the prickles of panic faded somewhat, until he was back in control of his breathing.

Now, you have to get out of these binds. Just like we did as children. You were always faster than me somehow. I know you can do this.

“He’ll come back, he’ll catch me,” Ayan breathed.

He’s already caught you. Now get to work, we’re losing daylight.

Ayan looked at the binds on his wrists. With a deep breath, he got to work using his teeth to pull them apart.

As children, his father would tie him and his brother up several times over the years. He called it a game, but really it was a form of torment. A reminder that he was in charge, and his children had no real autonomy. Ayan always got out of the binds faster than Ravi. He would have taken joy in beating his brother, if the “game” hadn’t been so terrifying every time. The way their father would sneer as he left them in the closet, warning them that he would not be coming back for them. That it was up to them to figure a way out of their predicament. A short time would pass, and both boys would head downstairs to find their father drinking from his tumbler, grumbling at the news. Their father would look up at them, give a light scoff, and nod his head. That would be his only acknowledgement of their escape from the horrifying ordeal.

Now, a shiver ran through Ayan’s body as he recalled those awful memories. This time was so much different. There was a pool of blood, with a stream snaking its way toward his bare feet. His mind was still fuzzy and disconnected from the drug that Elijah had given him. And the reality was, Elijah was going to kill him if he didn’t get out of this. There was no doubt about that. So he worked at his binds, harder than he ever had before. He pulled with his teeth, causing friction on his lips and gums. Ignoring the pain, he kept going, feeling the binds loosen more and more as he went.

That’s it. Keep going.

A few minutes later, he was free. With a gasp, he pulled his hands loose from the last of the rope, rubbing his raw wrists, wiping the blood from his lips, then set about on his escape. Let the door be unlocked, please please please.

As soon as he was in motion, a wave of dizziness swept over him, sending him toppling sideways into the wall of the van. He collapsed to the floor, catching his breath for a moment.

We don’t have time to waste!

“Easy for you to say,” Ayan muttered.

If you stay here, you’re dead. Get out there!

Ayan took several steadying breaths, slowly crawled across the van, head swimming the entire time. He was distantly aware of his hands landing in the pool of blood, of his knees getting covered in the stickiness. With great effort, he reached the door, using one trembling hand to turn the handle.

To his relief, the door opened, and Ayan sucked in a breath of fresh air before slowly and carefully pushing the door as far as he could without making too much noise. He stepped out, bare feet tripping in the piles of leaves and brush. His head pivoted around as he caught himself on the side of the van, causing it to loudly clang. Elijah had to be close by. Ayan squinted into the woods around him until he could just make out Elijah’s form in the distance, standing in a clearing of dirt with a shovel in his hand. Ayan couldn’t see Charlie’s body from where he stood, but he was very aware of Elijah staring at him now.

Run!

Ayan took off, stumbling and sliding through the brush. Willing himself to stay upright. In the distance, he saw Elijah start running in his direction.

Don’t stop! Just fucking run!

All Ayan could hear was his own labored breathing, the crunch of the earth and leaves under his bare feet, and the steady thumps of Elijah’s footsteps behind him, getting louder every second. The main highway was so close. Ayan could feel the sharp sting of rocks and foliage beneath his stumbling feet, could sense the disturbing stickiness of blood on his hands, but these sensations still didn’t seem real.

“Stop!” Elijah cried.

Just reach the highway.

He didn’t want to die. He wanted to go home. To see Junna again.

Keep going. You have to keep going.

He spotted a car driving perpendicular to him roughly 200 yards ahead, and his heart skipped a beat. He had a chance! He refused to give in. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, keeping him steadily moving along, despite the growing pain in his feet from rocks and twigs ripping at his skin, and the unsteady hum in his throbbing head from the drug still in his system.

“Please! You don’t know what you’re doing! You’ll spoil everything! His death will have meant nothing!” Elijah shouted.

If you die, his death will still have meant nothing. Keep going!

He had to get free of this psychotic man. The alternative was unthinkable.

Reach the fucking road. Do not look back. Do not fall down.

He caught himself on the branch of a tree as he tripped over a protruding root and stepped on something painfully sharp. Crying out, he almost stumbled until he fell over, but he forced himself to keep going. One foot in front of the other. Keep moving. Please let someone see him. Let them save him.

“Please!” Elijah sounded startlingly close now, “You have to stop!”

He just wanted to get home. To see Junna again. To be free of this nightmare.

Ayan was taken down by the force of a brick wall. Terrifyingly strong hands dragged down his shoulders, and he collapsed to the ground with a strangled grunt. He was momentarily disoriented, before his senses returned with a throb of panic and adrenaline, and he kicked back at Elijah, fighting to topple him, to force his way free.

But Elijah was stronger. He was larger, more coherent, and he had the advantage. Ayan managed to get in a good kick to the thigh, that briefly knocked Elijah off-balance, but before Ayan could stand again, after having dragged himself through dirt and leaves for several feet, Elijah was on him once more. This time Elijah’s arm was around Ayan’s throat, expertly squeezing.

“I’m sorry about this. I’m so sorry,” Elijah muttered in his ear.

“Stop,” Ayan croaked, his fingers struggling to find hold on Elijah’s arm as pressure built in his head. He scratched blindly at Elijah’s face in hopes that the man would release his grip, but it was too late. A moment later, Ayan’s vision was whiting out, head throbbing, his body relaxing. Just as he was losing consciousness, he saw an SUV turn off the highway and head toward them. A moment later, Ayan slumped down in the underbrush, unconscious.