Everyone around me is gone. It is just me, in a body that is only half mine, and Barfred, who now looms over me.
“Good boy,” he praises, disgustingly calm. “You’ve done well.”
Vomit gushes from between my lips, my body growing weaker by the second. And the last thing I see before it all fades to black is Cameron’s body, crumpled on the floor.
And then it’s all over.
I wake to light sneaking into my own quarters through the open window. Spring air rushes in, cooling my heated skin. I feel as if I’m on fire, as if I’m dying from a deadly cold.
There is only one person in my room with me, and that person is Jeremy Walsh. Guilt and shame overcome me, memories of Julian’s slumped body assaulting my mind.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, throat rubbed raw as tears fall from my stinging eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
“For what, Young Master Atticus?” Jeremy asks, and he sounds so kind, so placating, that it only hurts worse.
“I killed him. I killed your son.”
Jeremy doesn’t react. Instead, he stares at me, observing my reaction in silence.
Finally, he says, “Let me get your father.”
“Y-you can’t,” I choke out. Then, in a whispered confession, I add, “I killed him too.”
Jeremy’s eyes widen slightly.
“I killed them all,” I admit. “Everyone but Barfred—I killed them.”
“Shh, it’s alright,” Jeremy coos as I start to choke on my cries.
“No, you should go,” I plead. “I’m not safe to be around. I-I could hurt you too.”
“You won’t,” he insists. “I made sure of it.”
His eyes dart to my hands, and as I turn to look, I realize that I’ve been handcuffed to my bedpost, one set on each wrist.
But he’s an idiot if he thinks this will work. Such a trusting idiot.
“These won’t work. I’ve broken out of them already.” And it’s true. Atlas handcuffed me to this very bed just last night, and Ifound a way to rip out of them—the cut and bruising on my wrist prove that.
But Jeremy just nods toward my stomach, where a heavy-duty chain has been wrapped around me, connecting to either side of the bedframe.
“It’ll be alright,” he tells me. “We’re going to fix you.”
If he knows the solution, then great. I can be stopped now. But that doesn’t change… it doesn’t bring them back.
“They’re gone,” I whisper, tears building again. “They’re all gone. I couldn’t control it.”
Jeremy gives me a small, pained smile. “It’ll be alright.”
A knock sounds at the door, and I stare at the chain wrapped around me as it creaks open. I don’t want to see; I’m certain it’s the cops, or Barfred is here to tell me he cleaned up the bodies.
And Ican’t. I can’t stomach remembering the look on Atlas’s face as I took his future away; the hot, sticky feel of my father’s blood as I put him in his grave.
Of Cameron… telling me he loves me even as I murdered him.
I… I murdered him. All of them.
“Atticus.” Even now, I can hear his voice. I can smell the sweet scent of him.
