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“The man took his time and instructed Bass how to kill someone slowly, to make him suffer for his sins. He guided Bass’s hand with each stab to his dad’s body. As twisted and fucked-up as that was, Bass wasn’t finished. He detailed the last blow to his father’s chest that he alone delivered. He was covered in his father’s blood and at some point, he lost his way from what the murderer made him do. The police report said there were twenty-three puncture wounds.”
My heart stopped beating, and I stared at him in shock. Acid churned in my gut as I tried to reconcile that Sebastian had been forced to kill his flesh and blood, but somewhere inside him, he’d flipped when he delivered all twenty-three blows that ended his father. I rushed a few feet away before I bent over and emptied the contents of my dinner on the grass. Swiping at the string of spit, I wondered why I could witness Death murder someone in my house, but the thought of Sebastian doing the same sent me into a wicked tailspin. I slowly straightened and turned to Dope.
“Did they ever find the killer? Did he know the family? How did that even fucking happen in the first place?” I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, the acidic taste of vomit still lingering in my mouth.
“No, they never found him. I have no idea how he knew or if he knew Sebastian’s family. It’s all still a mystery.”
Overwhelmed, I shook my head, attempting to clear my thoughts. My forehead pinched as another piece of the puzzle clicked into place.
“Goddammit … Dope … you and Kip have protected him all these years?”
“Yeah. It’s not been easy when he changes. He’s the extreme opposite of Sebastian.”
A boulder hit the pit of my stomach with my suspicions, but I had to listen to what Dope had to say.
“I need to hear the rest because right now my brain is full speed ahead, and I’m hoping like hell it’s running in the wrong direction,” I croaked as I wiped my runny nose.
“I get it. That weekend scared Kip and me shitless. Dammit, I lived with Bass, and as much as I wanted to believe that he was just messing with us, I knew in my gut that he wasn’t. Over the next year, I couldn’t ignore it anymore. I was terrified for a long time, but then I got to know his other persona. His name is?—”
“Death,” I whispered, tears clogging my throat.
“Yeah.”
I shook uncontrollably, realizing that I’d fallen for two opposing sides of the same man. That twisted me into a fucking pretzel. Seconds later, a wave of short-lived relief consumed me as I realized I hadn't slept with Kip. He wasn't Death. Moments later, that relief turned to horror, quickly followed by love for both men. I was fucked up and unable to wrap my head around the situation. How? How was my sweet, safe Sebastian also Death, a cruel serial killer? I shoved my fingers through my hair and pulled until my scalp stung. I couldn’t scream in the middle of the park, or I’d draw attention, but I was overloaded, and my emotions needed a temporary outlet until I had time alone to process.
“Does he understand that he’s also Death?”
Dope pursed his lips together. “No. At least not that I know of. We have very different conversations with each personality, careful not to slip up badly enough that he catches on. I’m sure you’re wondering why we didn’t get him help.”
“Yeah, that was my next question.”
“I read somewhere that if the personalities are aware of each other, it could drive someone insane. I’m not sure if that’s true or not, but I was afraid to risk it until recently. And if Kip or I ever turned him in, the courts would lock him away for the rest of his life. He’d already lost everything. His home, his mom and dad, his mind. Kip and I couldn’t take his freedom too. About a year ago, he got onto the dark web, looking for porn. That’s when he found you, and he was immediately obsessed.”
I leaned over and pressed my stomach against my legs, slamming my eyes closed. Death had stalked me, forced himself into my life, and was a coldblooded killer. My fists clenched and I dug my nails into my skin as I attempted to marry the two different men together.
Dope stretched his legs out in front of him. “It’s what Kip and I were talking about in the hospital. We were completely baffled as to why you hadn’t figured out who Death was.”
“Easy, he only visited at night for a while so I couldn’t see him. When I could see him, he wore a grim reaper mask. His eyes are grey, but Sebastian’s are blue, and Death doesn’t have an accent. Do you have any idea how many men are tall with large hands, and broad shoulders? How in the hell was I supposed to know it was Sebastian?” I rubbed my arms, warding off the chill of our conversation.
“His masks are fucking badass, so I get that. Did you know that eye color can change when someone is in a manic state or a different personality emerges?”
“No. I had no idea, but I’ve never dealt with this situation before.” A combination of relief and grief punched me in the chest as silence hung in the air. “Dope?”
“Yeah?”
“Why did you and Kip stick around when you learned about Sebastian’s … condition. And who else knows?”
Dope laced his fingers behind his head. “As fucked up as it is, he’s family to both of us. And I’m sorry that Kip and I didn’t come to you sooner, but we had to make sure that we could trust you.” He winced. “I don’t know how else to say it.”
“You’re fine. But why did you decide to tell me now?”
“Because we saw how much you love Sebastian. Maybe you’ve not said it out loud, but it’s clear to us. Sebastian is in love with you, too. We figured if you were staying with him at the hospital, it was time to tell you the truth. Anyway, as for why Kip and I stuck around? He had no one else other than us. We thought at the time that if we could learn to identify what triggered him, we could manage the situation. It wasn’t until we attended college in Washington state that I noticed Sebastian sneaking out of our shared dorm room a few nights a month. I hadn’t talked to Death in a while, so I assumed shit had settled down enough not to trigger Bass. We tried to manage his stress level, but we’re only human. We finally realized that when he got pushed to the limit, or it was the anniversary of his parent’s murders, Death showed up. As we got older and become adults and owned a business, more stressful situations were added to the equation. He works long hours and lives off very little sleep, which doesn’t help at all.” He sighed. “Then rumors of a serial killer started floating around. I told Kip we had a problem, and we either needed to turn Bass in or cover his tracks.”
My eyes nearly popped out of my head. “What?”
“Yeah. Well, we obviously didn’t turn him in.”
“Why? He’s a killer.”
