An Odyssey of Shadows (The Odyssey Of Theodore Miller Book 1) by Dion Marc

Author:Dion Marc [Marc, Dion]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-04-02T00:00:00+00:00

THEODORE II

The room felt colder than it should have, like a vault sealing off life and warmth. A pendulum clock hung on the wall, its ticks elongating the seconds, distorting time. I was only partially present, my mind grappling to reconcile my sudden, terrifying reality.

I had woken up in this place, this institution, my head throbbing from the effects of sedative drugs forcibly administered during my capture. My limbs felt like wet paper. I didn’t fully understand what was happening.

Father Mills was absorbed in his paperwork, scribbling away on the opposite side of a mammoth desk, laden with religious texts. Each scratch of his pen sounded like a serrated knife dragging across a wooden board, a jarring counterpoint to the ticking clock.

“Why am I here?” My voice barely rose above a whisper, choked by the lingering effects of whatever drug was stabbed into me.

He ceased writing and looked up, as though noticing me for the first time. “I always knew you were a problem. Skipping mass, befriending a married woman, absorbing yourself in problematic studies.”

“I’ve done nothing wrong,” I blurted.

“Just the thing a sodomite would say!” he responded.

“What?”

“Don’t feign ignorance. Robert saw you with that crippled man in the bookshop. You were flirting.”

“You’re mistaken,” I stammered, my pulse spiking.

“Your sins pile up, Theodore. Devil worship, too!”

“You’re wrong. Knowledge isn’t a sin. My book, my studies—they’re not what you think.”

“Lies! That spell book damns you!” He slammed his hand on the desk, making me jump.

“It’s just a book!” The words erupted from me, desperation breaking my voice.

It was then that I fully grasped the gravity of my situation. Father Mills believed he was saving me, but his faith was a poisoned chalice, and he would force me to drink from it, condemning me with twisted conviction.

I thought of Norma Jeane, radiant and full of life, waiting for me. A stab of agony pierced my heart. I had promised to be there for her, just as she had always been for me. But now I was caged in this room, my future hijacked by a man wielding religion like a weapon.

“After you’ve spent some time here at the Sacred Heart Asylum, under my guidance and that of the faith, you’ll see things differently. Don’t worry, we will wrestle your soul from Lucifer’s grip. You can still be saved. It’s not too late.”

“I demand to be released this instant,” I shot back, my voice tinged with desperation.

He chuckled mirthlessly. “Your father has signed over your care to us.”

“I’m an adult. You can’t just keep me here against my will.”

“Just watch me.”

My heart sank, but before I could form another argument, there was a knock on the door.

“Yes, come in,” Father Mills commanded without breaking eye contact with me.

The door creaked open and in stepped a stern-looking woman in a nun’s habit. “Mother Superior,” Father Mills greeted, not attempting to veil his annoyance at the interruption.

“Sorry to interrupt, Father, but Scott Morrison has returned and is in need of your guidance.”

Father Mills sighed, placing the cap back on his fountain pen.

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