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Price: $14.95
Availability: In Stock
Model: 009AOLrg009
Manufacturer: Rick Giernoth
Average Rating: Not Rated

 

Taken off the streets at the tender age of 12, Helen was “rescued” by David Washington, founder of a separatist hate group.  Now in her 20’s, the lost youth knows nothing but hatred, a hatred that leads to her death and re-emergence. 

 

Helen has an ability the Legions of Hell want, she has seen the path to the afterlife but still walks among Heaven’s hopefuls.  They need her to scar the one who spurned them.  To save her, a hidden sect of the Church, The Order of Camerone, fight the supernatural.

 

The battle begins, might versus will, revenge versus hope, and the second Son of God.            

 

Excerpt:

Washington took Helen’s hands away from her eyes and slid them onto his shoulders. Helen slightly drew back, only making David more aggressive in his efforts. He pulled her closer with his left arm and unbuttoned her blouse with his free hand. Helen pushed forcefully, but she filled the role of the victim once again. She tried to kick away but fell to the bed. Taking that as a sign to move this to the next level, Washington positioned himself between her legs. He slowly stroked her thighs to virtually no resistance. In shock, Helen froze up. She no longer felt the emotion of terror and stared hypnotically at Washington, directly in his eyes, hoping for any signs of humanity to take over in him. This wasn’t going to happen.

“Kind of a dead lay, aren’t ya? Come on, this can be a good thing,”Washington said with a laugh.

Helen slipped further and further into shock; she could not believe or accept what was happening to her. Crying and barely conscious, the room was seemingly spinning as this man did anything to her that he desired. All his fantasies were played out, and she was his instrument of pleasure. He struck her just hard enough to enact a response without hurting his prey. He pinched just hard enough to raise the skin without tearing it, and bit to imprint rather than to bleed.

“Once a victim, always the weak,” he whispered in her ear, thrusting himself onto her.

He rubbed her thigh, then her hip; he apparently could not help but scratch at this area harder than other areas. He wanted to leave a mark here, something for her to remember and perhaps something to build on in the future. Small trickles of blood seeped down onto the bed. He rose up off of her and paused to take in the sight of this slight wound.

Helen thrashed her head back and forth and let out a scream. She opened her eyes, only to see David Washington and his assistant in the room with horror and concern painted on their faces.

“Helen, are you okay?” Washington asked.

“Get…What’s happening?”

Helen stuttered on for a few more moments as she questioned if this too, was a cruel figment of her imagination.

“After I walked you to your room, you asked me to wait with you until you fell asleep, and I thought you had. Then you just went crazy. You started kicking and screaming, so I went to get help. By the time I got back, you were cold as ice and wouldn’t respond to anything we did.”

“You really gave us a scare,” the assistant added.

“It felt so real,” Helen stated, staring blankly at the two onlookers.

“Helen, it’s obvious that you’re doing a lot worse than we thought. Maybe you should be checked back into the hospital for observation,” suggested the assistant.

“No. I don’t think we need to do that. She needs to be close to her family—the best place for her is right here. I’m sure Helen wouldn’t want those vulgar criminals to bring her down. No, she has a mission, and it’s to spread our message,” Washington replied.

“I don’t need a doctor, I just need some rest.”

“Do you want one of us to stay with you?” Washington asked.

“No, I’m fine. I just need some peace and quiet.”

“Well, if you need anything, we’re right across the hall,” added the assistant.

The two exited the room and Helen cleaned up after herself. She shoved all her belongings back into her purse, placed everything back on the desk, and felt the cool sheets of the bed calling her name. She lay down and looked around the room. Not believing what she’d done, she laughed at the idea of someone writing frantically all over the walls. Visions of a crazy woman entertained her consciousness. She closed her eyes to rest up for the N.O.P.’s and Washington’s big day.

A laugh penetrated the silence.

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