The first crack of the lash cut into my flesh and a white-hot flame of pure pain racked my body. An involuntary cry burst from my lips, and I glanced up just in time to see Judah grin in triumph.
I steeled myself for the next lash, the one after that… and those that followed. Sweat ran down my face, pooling on the wooden floor where my head hung low.
Even the light breeze felt like razors slitting my back. When the lashes stopped, my back sagged with weakness, and Judah kneeled down, quieting the voluminous crowd.
“Do you repent your tempting ways?”
Forcing my mouth to remain shut, I turned my gaze from Judah.
Shaking his head, he placed his attention behind me. “Untie her.”
Someone cut the ropes at my wrists and my body crumpled to the floor.
“Secure her!” Judah ordered, and rough hands took hold of my arms and ripped me from the floor. Someone pulled at my hair, and I found myself looking at the faces of the crowd. They seemed to blur into one, no defined features, no distinguishing clothes. But then they began to part, angered by someone pushing her way to the front.
A flash of red was the first thing I saw, a whimper sounded second, and a moment later, my eyes cleared enough to see Phebe lay her eyes upon me and cover her mouth with her hand.
I kept my eyes on my sister as Judah addressed the crowd. “Jesus Christ died on the cross to atone for mankind’s sins… but some sins cannot be wiped clean. Being at one with Satan is a mortal sin.”
Judah held out his hand and a thick metal rod was placed in it. “This heathen shall meet the Lord wearing the mark of Christ so our Lord knows that all was done to save her tainted soul… alas in vain.”
I could see tears falling from Phebe’s eyes as she watched Brothers Luke and Micah hold my arms, baring my naked front to the people of New Zion.
A barrel set to side of the stage was ignited by my father with a match, the flames rising high, the heat too hot for my exposed cheek. Taking the rod, Judah placed it in the fire, the end reddening with contained heat. Lifting the rod and walking toward me, he placed it vertically on my stomach, pressing down, the boiling metal scalding my skin.
Whether I wanted to or not, weakened or not, a gargled scream ripped from my throat, and Judah’s eyes lit with satisfaction. Every muscle in my body was taut—no breath, no air could I inhale…
“This harlot shall forever bear the sign of Christ, the redeemer, our savior. The cross shall keep the devil living within her at bay!”
Immersing the rod in the barrel of fire, Judah pulled it from the flames and held it high. Shutting my eyes, I braced for the next laceration… and it came, burning my flesh, the putrid smell of its mark hitting my nostrils.
Casting the rod to the ground, Judah looked me in the eyes, my consciousness fading, and asked, “For the final time, Delilah, whore of Satan, do you repent for your sinful ways?”
I knew this was it, the moment I chose my fate. Flickering my gaze up to the night sky, I stared at the lonely moon and prayed, Lord, help me keep strong. See me through this trial, for I want to rid myself of this evil… I want to be saved, by death.
Judah spat on the ground at my feet and proclaimed, “By fire you shall burn. By boiling blood you shall be purified of your sin!”
A pained cry came from the crowd, and Phebe fell to her knees. Judah’s eyes narrowed at her in displeasure. Then he addressed my father and Brother Micah. “Brother Micah, Brother Isaiah, take Delilah to the hill of perdition. You know what to do.”
My father took Brother Luke’s place at my side, and together with Brother Micah, they dragged me off the stage, my toes losing their skin on the rough wood.