For a long moment, Theo Barlow couldn't see a thing. The inky blackness seemed to stretch out in front of her as she held her hands out and took step after tentative step. Suddenly she tripped, either over the stony floor or from being pushed, and she landed hard on her knees. When she looked up, she wasn't in darkness any longer, or at least not complete darkness. Torches hung from the walls, casting flickering light across the stony, gray room. Despite the fires, the blackness still tried to seep into the room, casting dark shadows everywhere. Figures in dark robes, their features completely obscured, stood like statues around her, and though she could not see their faces, she felt their cold eyes on her.
"Get up," her father snarled, grabbing her arm and wrenching her to her feet. She forced herself to look at him, his face twisted in disgust he didn't even bother to try and hide. He examined her for a moment and shook his head disapprovingly before he raised his hand. Theo instantly recoiled as if she had been struck, but the feeling never came. Instead, a wicked blade was produced seemingly out of thin air and forced into her hand. It fit perfectly, her fingers sliding easily into the grooves. She stared at it, her eyes flickering over the obsidian black metal and the strange engravings that wound their way across it.
Theo didn't get long to examine the dagger before her father's voice rang out suddenly, the sound reverberating off the cold walls. He was using his preacher voice now, all full of brimstone and fire and dark charisma.
"Good people of The Sacramental Light of the Joyous Good News, I bring you here on this day to bear witness to a traitor in our midst!" he roared, earning a hiss among the cloaked figures. Other than that, they did not react as her father continued. "As you know, we must all be tested by God, for only He Himself can judge our souls! For every Garden of Eden, there is a snake; for every covenant of Jesus Himself, there is a Judas! We bring forth one such blasphemer now, so that he might be judged by His holy and all seeing light!" That wild, frenzied look glowed in her father's eyes as he gestured grandly to someone that she hadn't noticed before.
A man, if you could even call him that, was knelt on the floor. His hands were bound behind his back and his eyes were covered by a black blindfold. A gag had been forced into his mouth as well, and he was slumped over in defeat, seemingly not hearing her father's words. She stared at him dumbly, her mind churning with thoughts. He looked no older than Theo herself, straddling the line between childhood and adulthood. What sin could he have possibly committed to land himself here? She didn't have to wonder long before her father seemed to answer her.
"Tobiah Esau Mayfield," her father spoke, the boy's name harsh on her ears. One of the figures yanked off the boy's blindfold while another ripped down his gag. Tobiah, no, Tobi she remembered now, blinked up at them as his face slowly began to register what was happening. "You are being charged with conspiracy against your fellow disciples and conspiring with non disciples. How do you plead in front of the eyes of your fellow men and God?" her father demanded, bringing a panicked look onto the boy's face. She had seen that look before, first in the wild animals she hunted when they realized they were cornered, and second in the countless other people who had knelt in the boy's spot before.
"No, no," he pleaded, the word spilling from his mouth again and again as he made an attempt to press his face forward and into the floor. Her father was not moved.
"Enough," he spat, and Tobi instantly froze with his face still pressed down "I said defend these accusations, or we will assume you are guilty of these crimes."
Tobi was crying now, and making no attempt to hide it. He looked around feverishly as if a disciple would step forward to speak on his behalf. No one would of course, so he launched into his plea. "Oh great Father, I beg your understanding and mercy. It is my grandparents, they are ill and I fear they don't have much longer. I only wanted to see them, to honor my family. Please, please forgive me," he sobbed, a glob of snot flying free. Her fathers face twisted in disgust and he turned to the unmoving figures.
"This man confesses to his sins! He would have himself corrupted by the outside world and bring that filth here!" her father raged, pointing an accusatory finger in the boy's direction, "He has shown himself to be a wolf in sheep's clothing, here to destroy our humble flock! What say you when the wolf comes to your door?"
The crowd surged forward slightly now, howling like banshees. The cold stone room suddenly felt like it was burning and Theo felt the sweat slip down her brow. Her father held up a hand and the room fell quiet again. He turned to Tobi with that same burning hatred that was turned her way when she fumbled or muttered a word of disobedience. Tobi sobbed louder, the sound making her head pound, as her father gave his verdict.
"Before the eyes of the Almighty, I hereby sentence you to death for your sins. May God have mercy on your soul," he growled. It seemed like, at least to Theo, that everything slowed down then. She wanted to flee, to run out and never return. In spite of this, she took a step forward as if her legs had a mind of their own. Then she took another step. Then another. Then she stood in front of Tobi, towering over him as he threw himself at her mercy and begged for his life. No! she wanted to cry out, but her tongue seemed impossibly large and dry in her mouth. Stiffly she raised her arm, the same one that had a death grip on the dagger. She resisted however, just the smallest amount, and suddenly her father was at her shoulder, hissing in her ear.
"What are you waiting for? Kill him, Theodosia. Now!" her father growled, but the sound was hard to hear over the crying. Theo swayed slightly and the words just kept coming. "This is your purpose. God has honored you by choosing you as His glorious sword. This is what I made you for. Do it! Do it now!"
The sweat was pouring off of her now. Her father's voice, Tobi crying—the sounds jumbled and made her head pound. She thought she might grip the blade so hard that it would shatter either her or the dagger. Then, suddenly, through all the noise she heard the soft sound of her name.
"Theo," it said, and her eyes whirled around the room before she landed on Caleb. He was covered in the same robes as the rest of the room, only his hood had been thrown back to show him looking at her with those kind brown eyes she loved. "Theo," he repeated again gently, "Wake up."
Theo startled awake, choking for air as she shot up in bed. Her sweat-soaked clothes clung to her skin, and the blankets were twisted around her legs. She struggled for a second before a warm hand rested on her shoulder.
"Hey, hey, it's alright my love," Caleb said soothingly, the sleepiness in his voice draining out at the sight of her fright, "You were just having a nightmare." His arm slid around her then and he pulled her in close. Theo instantly melted into him in a heartbeat, pressing her face into his chest. His free hand went to stroke her hair, and he began to hum some old hymn softly. Slowly but surely, she began to catch her breath and her running thoughts. Caleb never pressed her and simply let her gather herself.
"It was my father," she said finally, forcing herself not to shiver at the thought of her dream, "He made me....it was Tobi." If Caleb reacted, she couldn't tell. She knew he remembered him, how could he not? They were all the same age then, and Tobi had been familiar with Caleb, friends even. Though her nightmare was over, she remembered now what had happened in real life. She had killed him.
"That's in the past my love, that isn't who you are now," Caleb said gently. Her hands, tangled in his shirt, shook slightly as she replayed her fathers words in her head. This is what I made you for, this is the only thing you are good for.
"What if it is, though?" she mumbled, pulling back from his comfort slightly. Even in the dark of night she could see the lines on his face crease into a frown. She swore she could feel the dagger still heavy in her hand. "What if these hands are only good for killing?"
Caleb took her hands in his now and smiled softly at her, the smile that always made her heart flutter. "I'd have to disagree with you there, love," he said, bringing their joined hands up to his face to peer at them, "these hands have grown food, raised animals, and played a mean guitar." He grinned at her and wiggled his eyebrows slightly, "I can say, first hand, that they are also great at-"
Theo laughed and pushed him, causing him to flop over. He laughed too, pulling her down into his arms, and she sunk into them easily. No matter what happened, no matter how dark her thoughts got or her outbursts, Caleb always knew what to say to put her at ease. Her eyelids suddenly felt like they were made of lead and began to droop. Whether from the stress of her dream, or her husband's comforting presence, she began to slip back down into sleep. The last thing she registered was Caleb pressing a kiss to her temple and murmuring an 'I love you.'