Page 84
(rewritten and decoded 1751)
Prefix:
Shadowface
Behold the angel.
Both hunter and hunted. Pristine, like winter’s breath.
I shall smile down upon her as if she is my child…my chosen. My gaze sealed her fate.
She rises, binding the chains of death.
Even perfect circles must crack.
She is my reincarnate. She is death.
DIDI
OCTOBER 1979
Isaw a man in a mask two seconds before he lit the match that burned down Smith Hall. I don’t know if anyone else saw him, but I did. I was looking, waiting among the crowd, watching him as I have all semester.
The way he moved gave him away. Despite the mask, I knew it was Tommy, not Remy.
After living in the shadows of this town for months—hiding, waiting, praying—I now understand the importance of this mask.
The Order of the Shadows is the source of it all. The deaths, secrets, and horrors. They are Shadowface. They were behind everything…until me.
Yesterday, while in class, Tommy and I locked eyes before the flames erupted between us, and then all hell broke loose. In that moment between fire and smoke, it looked like he saw a ghost. I smile despite myself…because technically, he did.
No one’s uttered the word arson, but everyone is on edge as the police investigate it. No one died yesterday, but many are in the hospital, fighting for their lives.
After I faked my death, I watched. Marty helped me stay alive, bringing me food, turning a blind eye when Mrs. Holly would complain to him that food and money were going missing.
Rumors were flying around that I killed myself after killing Father Malcolm, so she never suspected me. They believed Mama fled town due to shame. The Order of the Shadows made my lies easier, since Father Malcolm’s body was never found and I became nothing more than a distant memory. Marty told me that the Order of the Shadows can make people disappear, and that’s what they did to me. They created a false narrative the town was too eager to believe. It’s easier than believing what’s happening right in front of them.
Using a fake name and money I stole from Mrs. Holly, I eventually enrolled in the open studies program at Kinsmen University. It was always a dream to finish school, and I’ll be damned if I let them stop me.
“Blink, Rose,” my friend Tina says as we get ready to go out to the town fundraiser. I met Tina at the beginning of the semester in psychology class. “We need to get this mascara on you to cover up your lashes.”
We are in her dorm room, where she lets me crash sometimes when her roommate is out of town. Which is much better than the slaughterhouse I live in with Mama’s corpse tainting my water. Plus, it’s on campus where I seem normal.
Tina’s taking me out to Rollerland tonight. Everyone’s going, including Tommy, Remy, Talia, and Bax because they’re pretending to raise money for the fire.
Tina continues fussing with my hair and makeup, frowning as she helps me put on heavy eyeliner and mascara. She adds some sparkles under my eyes to give my face more color, too.
“Okay, now you can look.”
I steal a glimpse of the beaded mirror hanging on her door. It’s amazing how simple makeup and a wig can make me look normal, allowing me to hide in plain sight. The wig, of course, Tina has no idea I wear.
Six months have gone by since I died in that well. After Marty left, I crouched behind the itchy scarecrow, I was paralyzed with fear as three men in polyester suits arrived and discovered Father Malcolm lying in his own blood. The men took Father Malcolm’s body and then wiped the room clean. All that blood, and not a drop was left.
A few minutes later, I watched in horror as the boys I thought I loved arrived with hoods over their faces and threw dirt on the rest of Mama’s body, believing it was me. Marty and I covered her up enough to convince them, and they never bothered to dig me up to check, not before they filled that well to the brim.
I witnessed something sacred that night, as others gathered in a perfect circle over my body. Their father recited words that resembled prayers but weren’t like any prayers I’ve ever heard.
After they left, I stayed hidden in that house for three months before I ventured out. Marty, my sole source of life.
