Chapter 3: Chapter 3: The Holy Sanhedrin
Chapter 3: The Holy Sanhedrin
Emanuel was still staring at me ravenously, however. Almost as though he were the cruel, dark witch, and I the human.
“It all begins with knowing the darkness of your own soul.”
“Darkness?” Emanuel frowned at me, whether out of contempt or love, I didn’t know.
“Yes, indeed. Darkness. You need to become one with whatever forces you feel led to choose, and sweetie, both you and I know what I was destined for.”
“Death?” Emanuel crouched down gravely, casting me a solemn glare.
This time, I knew that I had him exactly where I desired him to be.
“Of course. Death is the only escape and yet, look at us. Look at me.” My instincts suddenly began to kick in, and the beast within ordered me to do something, to act on my wildest urges and desires… to prey on Emanuel's deepest hopes and dreams…
“Kitty, you’re so beautiful… Why must you do this to me?”
Creeping over to him quietly, I ensured that he was not able to see me through his line of sight.
And with a look that could have murdered, I gazed hungrily upon him.
Then he turned around to face me with nothing but sheer terror in his eyes.
“Who are you?” He struggled to get the words out, but I considered myself fairly adept at deciphering language, so it wasn’t too much of a problem for me.
“Sorry, but you really did prove me wrong.”
As he slammed the door behind him, I couldn’t help but fall into a deep, deep melancholy. One that I knew would be near impossible to recover from.
I had always considered myself a rare kind of creature, one who required a great deal of affection and a wealth of love, but nonetheless, one who very much deserved the pretty attention that was bestowed upon her.
I should have been used to it by now.
Or so one may have thought.
But in truth, I had never really accustomed myself to exposure beyond that which my father had given me.
Since I hadn’t received proper or formal schooling, it wasn’t often that I met individuals of my own likeness. But when I did, it seemed as though I successfully was able to influence others to view me as a goddess.
I just didn’t understand how I could have possibly driven away the man who meant the most to me. Without even really intending to.
Suddenly, however, I heard a knock on my door, which brought my mind back to the present. The reality sinking in that my father was likely standing there.
In spite of the fact that he knew not to venture into my territory.
“Kitty.” All I heard was the faint hoarseness of his voice, uttering my name singularly.
“Please, Daddy…” I said hurriedly, knowing that it was about time for me to change my mood, my tone.
Almost as though I needed to adjust accordingly, depending on the person I was with.
Or maybe it was the witchcraft affecting me.
Either way, I didn’t wish for my father to come to knowledge concerning the beliefs that I held within my heart-
And I knew instantly he’d misread the pentagram above my bed.
For with my father, matters of faith often existed in black-and-white with little room for in between.
“I need to discuss something with you,” a voice said firmly as he walked carefully through my doorway-
My door that had lost its hinges.
And that’s when I realized. It wasn’t my father after all.
It was a member of the Holy Sanhedrin.
As soon as he made his way wholly into my room, I could practically feel the petrification oozing from his heart, becoming one with the shadows.
For, although this man was a devout Catholic, holy in every way-
I knew that there remained certain aspects about every human’s soul that very much became one with the darkness.
It seemed as though we all felt a little bestial, a little primal inside. And that part of us often countered, contradicted that which was beyond true- like a battle waging war within our souls.
And indeed, this man did display some signs of mixed emptiness- mainly that of anger and fear- but I knew that regardless of any explanation I may have offered him, he simply wouldn’t understand.
“What is this?” The Sanhedrin member, likely invited in by Daddy, scanned the room, baffled, at the vivid colors on the walls and the beautiful artwork.
“It’s nothing. Just some pretty pictures that I thought would describe me well.”
But this man didn’t seem to desire to hear any of my reasons or explanations. I may have pretended to be naïve, but I knew far more than I let on.
“Why is a pentagram hanging from the ceiling?” He reached out and touched it as though he were about ready to rip it from where it hung, limb by limb, piece by piece. “I hope you know who I am.”
“A penta-what?” I laughed nervously, expertly feigning naivety yet again. “I’m sorry… what is that again?”
But his silence told me everything- it told me that he was incensed. That he was terrified.
But most of all, it told me that he didn’t trust me one bit. In spite of the fact that I was Daddy’s good little girl.
Gifts
-- Gift
received Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone