Silent echoes devils due.., p.1
Silent Echoes (Devil’s Duet Book 2), page 1
Silent Echoes Copyright © 2024 by Valeriia Miller
All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Cover design: ANKBookDesigns
Book Formatting: Brady Moller
Contents
Important Note
PLAYLIST
Prologue
Part I
The Hunt
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Part II
The Unleashed
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
More Books By Valeriia Miller
Important Note
Alright, I acknowledge that some individuals, myself included, prefer going into a situation without prior knowledge. However, we are all different, and this page is intended for those who prefer to be informed. I want to prevent receiving messages later about how the events in this book may have caused trauma for some readers.
This book is much, much darker than the first one.
The story in this part revolves around a religious cult.
Please note that the content is based ONLY on my twisted imagination and the inspiration I’ve taken from my favorite cult-themed horror movies.
Remember, this is a work of fiction.
There are many dark triggering situations here, such as kidnapping, graphic violence, human trafficking, slavery, graphic sexual assault, mental and physical abuse, descriptive murder, torture, gore, animal abuse (not depicted), mentions of pedophilia (not depicted), mentions of child abuse, forced drug use, drug trips, mentions of mental disorders (schizophrenia), degradation, infertility, PTSD, and very explicit sexual situations that include breath play, blood play, and praise kink.
There are also a few scenes where humans are fed to animals.
Your mental health matters.
PLAYLIST
Brutus – The Buttress
Romance – Varials
This Place Is Death – Deftones
Cherry Waves – Deftones
Nowhere To Go – Bad Omens
Map Of The Problematique – Muse
The Summoning – Sleep Token
Angels Fall – Breaking Benjamin
How – The Neighbourhood
The Moon Smiled Back At Me – Sadistik
Lilith – Saint Avangeline
Adaptation – The Weeknd
Worship – Ari Abdul
You – Ari Abdul
Spotify Link
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0hVdhxRM7n6S4Xh9ulk3TL?si=fb0bbc51b9ce4ed0
Pinterest Board
https://pin.it/17nGpQO3P
Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves.
— –MATTHEW 7:15
Blood coats my clothes. My face. My hands.
So much blood.
I don’t even understand whether it’s from me.
I don’t even understand if there’s me anymore.
The trees in front of me extend their curved branches, creating a form so foreboding, the black tendrils interspersed only by white clusters.
I continue to walk, advancing into the darkness, into the void. The snow weighs heavily on my bare feet, it’s chill too extreme for the average person to endure, yet I have grown accustomed to it.
I exhale, creating a puff of mist instantly after my breath. The wind attempts to cut across my face, but there’s little it can achieve as I am soaked in blood.
Nothing will cover up the clamminess on my skin.
I trudge myself further, hearing the ringing of the bells.
Three times in a row.
And then, a piercing horn.
They set up an alarm.
For the fugitive on the run.
But I no longer harbor any fear. I have witnessed enough horrors to extinguish that emotion.
Only anger and an urge to slaughter this fucking place, slashing the throat of every shadow cloaked in black, every face concealed behind the mask, ensuring no soul is left behind.
Emerging from the ashes—the fallen angel with shattered wings.
Unleashing the remainder of my demons.
He takes the golden strand of my hair in his hand, gradually brushing his thumb over the length of it. Then, he tucks the separated lock behind my ear—a movement such tender, every time making me question whether it’s really Caleb.
A serial killer. A predator. A monster.
But not to me.
I am the one and only woman who was capable of taming the beast unleashed, erasing the years of his hunt as if they never existed. As if he wasn’t created only to destroy and wreak havoc upon innocent souls.
“I love you,” he croons, his warm breath cascading across my ear.
Does he? Is he even capable of such an emotion?
Maybe he isn’t. Maybe what he feels can’t be more than just an obsession. Sick, twisted obsession, addiction in its own light, craving to quench never-ending thirst.
Or maybe it’s not like that. Maybe I am, indeed, the first woman with whom he fell in love with.
And maybe, eventually, we will be happy, creating our own hell and being the first people who are capable and happy to live in such a place.
“You have to be strong for me,” he says, now wrapping his big hands around my shoulders. “Remember what I promised you, Lilith?”
We’ll set everything ablaze and revel together in the ashes, my little devil.
“Stay with me,” I utter, my voice strange to my ears. It’s hollow. Empty. As if I am the void itself.
“Even when you awaken to a cold bed and an empty room, I want you to remember that I’m still here, baby,” he murmurs, his soft lips caressing my delicate skin. “I’m sorry I left you.”
My face contours into a frown at what he says. That is such nonsense. Caleb never left me.
“You are here, aren’t you?”
He doesn’t answer.
Desiring to turn my head and cast a glance behind me, a sudden paralysis grips my body, rendering me immobile. Struggling against this physical constraint, my voice trembles as I utter Caleb’s name, imbued with disbelief and dread.
A surge of pressure tightens in my chest, a twinge of pain radiating through me in an instant. Despite attempting to remind myself to breathe, inhalation remains beyond my control. Panic descends upon me, seeping into every fiber, a prickling sensation pervading my being.
I don’t understand what is happening.
I call his name over and over again, but it’s pointless.
My senses register a chilling touch, distinct from Caleb’s familiar warmth. The icy presence slithers through me, methodically cleaving me apart, laying bare my essence with the intent to engulf me entirely. Though I want to unleash a scream, my voice remains elusive, lost amidst the blend of sensations, trapping me within the confines of my own dread.
It has to be a nightmare. Caleb wouldn’t leave me. I just know he wouldn’t.
“I told you this a million times already, Lilith,” echoes my mother’s voice, reverberating within the invisible prison of my terror. “I told you no one can be with you. You were meant to be alone, but you refused to be subservient to order. Now, you shall face the consequences.”
Agony quickly escalates to an excruciating peak. Each part of me succumbs to numbness as my body begins to shut down under the unbearable pain. Mother’s parting words resonate with an unfamiliar darkness, suffused with an almost demonic tone, “No one will save you now.”
An abrupt surge courses through me aki n to an electric shock, jolting my entire being.
“Fucking damn it,” a man’s scream resonates from nearby, punctuated by a resounding thud against what seems to be metal. “Do you plan on killing us all, fucking dumb ass? Do you even understand what have you done?”
“I’m sorry, boss,” the other man responds, his voice quivering with youth and fear. “It won’t happen again.”
The first man clicks his tongue. “Of-fucking-course, it won’t happen again because Rhys is dead. You two fucking stupid idiots who can be trusted to get the job done.”
Efforts to pry my eyes open prove futile, as if my eyelids are glued shut, burdened by a damp, oppressive weight.
Attempting to speak, my lips only worsen the situation, crackling and dry as though deprived of moisture for an eternity.
“Calm down, Moore,” the third man says, his voice in close proximity. “We’re going to get her in decent shape in no time.”
Moore. This sounds familiar, but I struggle to recollect who is he, exactly. Mainly because echoes of my mother’s voice within me muddle my thoughts, spreading a constant disorienting sensation.
“She is supposed to attend the Ceremony with other new members. How the fuck is she going to get through the Challenge when she is on the verge of death?”
The Ceremony? The other members? The Challenge? What the hell are they talking about?
“W-where?” A slight movement of my lips triggers a sharp pang across my numb body.
“Fuck. Is she awake?” Moore inquires urgently. “Drive fucking faster, Adam. She is supposed to make it through, otherwise Father will be furious.”
Struggling to focus, I pry my eyes open, welcoming a hazy expanse of grey before me. Despite blinking repeatedly, the world remains shrouded in mist.
Attempting to shift my gaze, I realize that I don’t have my glasses on. That’s why I can’t see straight.
“Easy, dolly,” the man nearby offers solace, his cold touch sending shivers down my spine. “We’ll take care of you.”
Moore chuckles, and it dawns on me. Grayson.
Gradually, recollections flood my mind, piecing together the fragments before my memory faded.
I was with Caleb. Some men barged in, prompting a desperate escape. In the chaos, I fired at two of them, fleeing with Caleb to my mother’s house where I took care of his wounds. While driving to the pharmacy, Grayson’s people chased me, their van crashed into my car.
They got me.
“No,” I whimper pathetically. Waves of tremors surge through me as the events of the day resurface vividly, amplifying the pain within me.
Every inch of my being throbs with agony—my head, arms, chest, legs—a relentless ache permeating me in pulsating waves, immobilizing me with pressure.
As I try to shift, mischievous laughter ensues. “Sweet darling, our precious darling. Such innocence,” their voices taunt.
Panic and dread fall short of capturing the intensity of my escalating terror. A realization grips me with a force beyond words.
Caleb likely is still unconscious, leaving me isolated in this dire situation.
I am all alone.
“I know, right?” Grayson’s callous voice pierces through, grating unpleasantly against my senses. “Father will be delighted.”
What the fuck are they talking about? What Father? Where are they taking me?
What are they going to do to me?
The journey stretches on endlessly, the persistent ache in my body gradually becoming somewhat more tolerable as I get used to it. Though immobile, I find solace in the ability to see and hear, even hazily.
Redirecting my gaze from what seems to be the car’s ceiling to the window, the monotonous grey yields a blend of blue and green.
The woods. We are driving through the woods.
Some of my instincts kick in as I try to strain my brain and memorize the way in wherever they drive me. Despite the restricted visibility, I concentrate on sensing my surroundings, honing in on the subtle details of the road, mentally charting our path forward.
The flicker of hope that I might emerge from this shit alive lingers within me, fostering a semblance of optimism. I may be naïve and stupid, but at the same time, the fact that I don’t give up yet is a good sign.
When the vehicle halts, disbelief washes over me instantly.
“You stay fucking here,” Moore commands, his voice laced with authority, before exiting the car with a resounding slam of the door.
Instinctually, I attempt to move, even as physical constraints hold me fast.
With the door ajar, a blast of frigid air assaults my frame, akin to icy blades piercing my bruised skin. Despite the beginning of spring, the persistent chill evokes the bite of mid-January, its bitter cold lingering in the air.
“Mateo, be careful,” Grayson cautions, his hand coming to my feet. “She is too weak. We’ll have to carry her to the house.”
Mateo—familiar yet distant—a figure from a past charity event with Caleb, emerges as a faint memory in my clouded mind.
Caleb.
I love you, and I don’t give a fuck about your little attempts to convince yourself that you don’t love me back and that you don’t need me.
I wish he’d seen how much I need him.
Especially now.
“Come on, dolly,” Mateo says, his frosty hands encircling my waist, guiding me forward.
A cry involuntarily escapes me as searing pain courses through my body, accompanied by the unsettling sensation of liquid seeping down my limbs.
“You will rot in the Ebon Keep for a week for this, Adam,” Grayson utters as he drags me out of the car by my legs, with Mateo steadying my waist.
Their touch disgusts me. I try to push them away, to strike out in anger, but in my near-blackout state, I’m powerless to do so.
“Caleb,” I murmur faintly—whispering his name is the only source of solace for me.
Grayson and Mateo pause, before erupting into mocking laughter.
“Caleb isn’t here,” Mateo taunts, a hint of triumph coloring his tone. “You can forget his name once and for all.”
Amid their mocking laughter, they yank my body out of the car and lift me up. My clothing is torn in half—the gaps in my sweatshirt allowing the wind to slice through, sending shivers, and triggering waves of goosebumps.
As my teeth chatter, I tremble uncontrollably—wracked with pain, cold, hunger, dehydration, and fear. This isn’t the fear I experienced when Caleb chased me after I stabbed him or when he locked me in his house. It’s a far more profound and potent dread, a true fucking terror in its own right.
I knew that Caleb would never inflict real harm upon me, when these men, in contrast, have all the intentions to do the opposite. Grayson’s ominous words regarding the Ceremony, the Challenge, Father, and his chilling threat toward Adam about the Ebon Keep spreads true terror across me.
I have no idea where I am or what are they planning to do with me.
I have no idea if I will survive.
It’s the scent that jolts me awake this time. A blend of antiseptic tools, minty pills, and ethanol. The aroma hits me, urging me to suppress a wave of nausea, my eyes narrowing against the vivid sensation.
A clammy sensation coats my throat, as though someone had slathered butter over it. This on top of everything amplifies the urge to vomit. Upon prying my eyes open, I realize that my vision has sharpened. I discern the outlines of my environment—no longer a smeared blur—guessing that I have my glasses on.
Raising my hand to my eyes to adjust my frames, I suddenly notice numerous cables connected to my skin. Medical cables.
