And then she was dying. The thing she’d not been above praying for, even after she’d shunned God, was finally upon her. Vision dimmed, then returned like a tide teasing the shore, but it wasn’t disorienting. In fact, it was disappointing when clarity returned, because she wanted to see what was on the other side of the darkness. Wanted to see if she was damned for her lack of faith, or if she’d be proved correct. The prize at the end of the race seemed so very close when it was cruelly yanked from her grasp. Pain exploded in her head as she connected with the floor. The groping hands had dropped her.

They were alone with the one she knew as Simon. Nolen was praying, invoking the aid of Mary and the archangel against the demon that embraced him. Simon’s hands caressed her husband like a lover’s hands. Give in to him, she urged wordlessly. It will be finished sooner. He will grow bored and kill you.

But Simon didn’t intend to rape Nolen. His violation was more sinister. He was gentle and tender, aiming to seduce his unwilling partner into consent, forcing Nolen’s body to betray him, making him take pleasure from unforgivable sin.

This is my fault. The sadness and regret gripped her then. A fine time to get her heart back, when she lay dying a world away from home.

Simon took his time with Nolen, and Marianne, too weak to turn away, watched her husband weep as he came, trembling, beneath Simon’s mouth and hands, even as the monster penetrated him.

“Your husband did this to you, Marianne.” Simon groaned, hissing in pleasure as his hips pumped against Nolen’s body. “Tell him how you hate him for it.”

She found her voice then, to whisper a weak, “No.” For all she resented him, she loved him. She would not have him die thinking she’d scorned him. Her gaze lingered for a moment on Nolen’s fingers clutching futilely at the slick marble floor. Then her eyes slipped closed.

As life continued to slowly ebb from her, Marianne wished for the strength to cry for joy. They would both be gone soon, abused to death at the hands of these monsters. And then she would be free of a worse pain, the pain of walking the earth in a faltering shell, watching her husband transform her from an object of desire to an untouchable martyr in his eyes.

I have to tell Nathan. The thought startled me, namely because it had rung through my mind so clearly. I remembered instantly where I was, what was happening, but where had I been? I’d seen it all, but it hadn’t been me. Marianne had truly taken me over. Now, as she died in the past, her control slipped.