"It's all falling apart, isn't it?" I murmured, clutching Blade's skull tightly as if it could absorb the weight of my sorrow. "I thought I could make it through this without losing myself. But with everything that's coming, I feel like I'm teetering on the edge."
The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows around the small room, and I leaned my head against the cold stone surface of the altar.
"Gerald has plans for me, and I hate that I can’t stop thinking about them. Every moment spent with him gnaws at my conscience. Do you understand? I never wanted to kill anyone," I confessed, my voice cracking with uncertainty. "But the thought of it... of finally having control... it’s intoxicating."
I picked up Saint’s skull, running my fingers over the delicate etchings that marked its surface. "You did that to me. You turned me into a killer. You believed in me. You all did. I thought that I was moving towards something—a purpose. But now, it feels like I'm walking down a path that leads straight to hell. I feel the anger bubbling over, and it gets harder to remember that I have a choice."
Silence fell, heavy as gravestones, but I felt their presence in the dim light, encouraging me. "What if I fuck this up?" I asked, as I picked up Nixon's skull, almost pleading with the spirits lingering around me. "What if I can't go through with it?"
I placed Nixon back down and let out a shaky breath, allowing a thrill of rebellion to course through my veins. The familiar urge to act, to bring chaos crashing through my carefully constructed world, beckoned enticingly.
And then I picked up Riley, glaring into the eye holes of the skull. "But I owe it to you—to finish what we started. Whether it’s about revenge or just making sure everyone who hurt us pays… I can't let fear rule me. Not anymore."
My resolve solidified as I clenched my fists, letting the untamed rage bubble to the surface. "They think I’m weak. They think they can toy with me, with my fate. That’s what Gerald wants me to do—twist that fear and use it. He wants them to think I’m still the same broken girl they could push around. But I’ve been forged anew, haven’t I?"
Deep blackness swirled within me, an intoxicating blend of despair and anticipation. The names of those I would target began to surface as vivid images—faces I barely recognized, but felt compelled to obliterate. The betrayal would run deep. They’d never see me coming. Not with how caustic and fragmented I had become, and I'd use the new guys to help carry out every gruesome detail. I stood up from the chapel floor and looked around at the scattered bones, the shrine of my past that became a battleground for the turmoil inside me.
"You all were my first real family—my first true loves—and I’m sorry I could never save you from the darkness. But you helped build this fire in me. This rage. I will not let it go to waste. When I do this, it will be for all of us."
Resolutely, I walked out of the chapel, shedding the weight of grief in my wake. I had a plan—a way to infiltrate the lives of my newfound family without alerting them to the tumult brewing under the surface. It was time for a reconnaissance mission, a look into the lives of those I would be cutting from the fabric of humanity.
As I stepped outside, rain poured down, mingling with the remnants of my old self. I couldn’t ignore the whispers that grew louder with each footstep I took, promising that the chaos would soon bring clarity—an exhilarating rush of liberation. The reminder of what I was about to do pulsed at my core, pumping adrenaline through my veins as I pictured their faces, one by one.
I lit a cigarette, though I had little hopes for it, anticipating the rain to soak it and put the cherry out, making it unsmokable. But it remained lit as I descended the church steps and made my way to the back where I buried the rest of the guys' remains. My heart felt like it was shattering. I was seeing shadows dancing in my peripherals, but I knew no one was there. I hadn't taken my medication, and the voices and people who weren't really there were already beginning to attack me, trying to pull me back into the darkness with them, and I was seriously debating if I should just give in and listen to them.
My skin burned, and I itched it like I had a rash, though nothing was there other than bloody scratch marks from my own nails. My chest felt tight as the shadows got closer, and for the first time in a while I felt as if I couldn't breathe. Long, skinny fingers grasped my neck and squeezed—at least that's what it felt like. Imaginary people whispered in my ear, and the shadows got even closer. I needed my meds, that much I knew. My mind was jumbled and confused, trying to distinguish reality from illusion, but I knew if I didn’t take my meds things would get a lot worse.
"Where do you think you're going, sinner?" I hear a deep whisper coming from behind me, and instantly I freeze.
I turned around slowly, the smoke from my cigarette still swirling into the air. I gasped, flashbacks of my first interactions with the guys started hitting me, making me feel a deep sense of fear, like I felt with them that first time. The figure standing in front of me wore a mask, not a full mask, but one coveringeverything below his eyes, which were black as the night enveloping us. A skeleton was printed on the mask, adding to the creepiness of the whole situation, and instead of staying strong, I could feel myself trembling. Now this was real. There was really someone standing in front of me, but the shadows still clung to my sides like I was their best friend.
"Who are you?" I asked, my voice shaking.
"The guy who's going to chase you through hell until I catch you, and when I do, you're going to do whatever the fuck I tell you," he orders, and a light thrill shot through my veins, awakening something fiery inside of me.
"Right." I shook my head and laughed, but he didn't.
"I'm the guy who's going to fuck you until you're screaming only my name. The guy who's going to ruin you for any other man or woman that might come after me," he paused, stepping closer until his fingers slid under my chin and gently tilted my head upward. "I'm the one who's going to fuck you so damn good you're going to be begging me for more... Now fucking run, sinner."
The command sent a jolt of adrenaline coursing through me, igniting something primal and rebellious deep within. My heart raced, not just from fear, but from an unexpected exhilaration and a reckless thrill as I saw him pull out an axe, an odd choice of weapon in my eyes.
I turned to run, almost unconsciously, the rain hitting my skin like a million needles, blurring the lines between panic and anticipation. The sound of his footsteps echoed behind me, the cadence steady and menacing as I darted between the trees, weaving through the darkened forest behind the church. The branches lashed at my arms and legs, a reminder of my tangled past, but I didn’t care. I embraced the pain, each sting fueling my desperation to escape or play his game—I wasn't quite sure.
"You think you can outrun me?" he called, his voice low and teasing. "You’re just leading me to your own destruction."
I didn’t answer, focusing on the wet ground beneath my feet, the mud sucking at my boots as I stumbled. I could hear the laughter behind me, cruel and twisted, an echo of the torment that haunted my dreams. The panic hit me harder with each step, merging with my volatile hunger for chaos that had simmered below the surface for too long, threatening to boil over.
Another crash in the underbrush sent me veering off the path, willing my legs to carry me deeper into the dark. Trees loomed above, their towering forms casting shadows that seemed alive, taunting me as I sprinted. But no matter how much I pushed myself, I could sense him gaining. The man with the mask was a predator, and I trembled at the thought of what awaited me if I didn’t outrun him.
Ducking behind a large tree, I pressed my back against the rough bark and strained to hear him. The forest was eerily quiet now, and I fought to steady my breath, letting the adrenaline wash over me, heightening my senses. I could feel the darkness creeping back, the cold murmurs of fear mingling with something fiercer—an urge to fight.
Just then, I caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of my eye. He was there, lurking just beyond the tree line, his silhouette framed by the dim light filtering through the canopy. Panic gripped my chest—was it instinct or intuition that told me to engage rather than flee? A flash of boldness surged through me, and before I could second-guess my decision, I launched myself out from behind the tree, skidding to a stop just in front of him. His gaze bore into mine, eyes glinting with surprise before settling into a knowing smirk.
"There you are," he said, stepping forward. The air crackled between us, a fierce energy thrumming through the space. "You’re much braver than you look."
I held my ground against the urge to turn and run once again. "And you’re not the scary man you think you are. You’re just another monster lurking in the dark."
He chuckled, and the sound rippled through my veins. "Oh, sinner, monsters come in many forms. I can be frightening, thrilling, or anything you need me to be. But let's be clear: I don't play nice."
