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Her nails clawed his arms, but his long sleeves protected him.
He felt nothing.
A shadow knelt beside him, smelling of sulfur and fury. Invisible arms wrapped around him and filled him with dark pleasure as he watched in delight the blood trickle from the old bat’s eyes.
Yesss...that’s it. Shut her up. For good. Be free of her. Nasty old hag.
He listened to those wicked thoughts and let them massage his brain. Memories surfaced on a loop.
Lashed as a young boy for spying on Mama with Mr. Franks.
He reared back and punched, connecting with bone and cartilage, and felt the joy of inflicting what she had coming.
With each painful memory, he punched.
Locked in the dark. Crying to escape.
He punched.
Peeping on the girls next door during their slumber party and being punished.
He punched.
He’d prayed not to be bad. He hadn’t wanted to be bad. But Mama never told him he was good. He was always bad. When he brought her flowers for Mother’s Day but picked them from Miss Hazel’s yard. Bad. Punished.
Her cries ebbed, but he punched and punched and punched and punched.
Until she was quiet.
Sweat slicked his body, and he dropped his arms, relaxed his rigid muscles and let his head fall backward, eyes closed. Finally, sweet silence.
Satiated and soothed, the voice in his head disappeared, but the evil presence lingered, approving, nodding.
Rain thundered on the roof and the clock ticked, ticked, ticked the seconds away.
Opening his eyes, he held his hands out before him.
Covered in blood.
“Mama?” he murmured. “Mama?” he asked louder. “I’m sorry.” He lowered his head to her chest, cradling her. “I’m sorry, Mama. Look what you made me do.”
The presence skittered off as it always did, leaving him void and empty. With nothing but chaos in his brain and fear gripping his heart.
Nothing but the shame of what he’d done.
Then the knock came on the door.
“Sorry it took me so long to open the door. I was changing bedsheets for Mama.”
Ruby warmed. Regis was devoted to his mom even if she was a little strange. “You’re a good man, Regis. Can I come in?”
He wiped his hands on his pants and glanced behind him.
He’d told her earlier to come by. “If it’s a bad time—”
Regis waved off the notion. “No. Ruby, it’s never a bad time when you’re around.” He checked his watch.
“Seems like it is.” But she could use some company. Between the murders and toying with her plan, fearing someone would find her stashed money, and the Him who was lurking, she could use being near a detective. Regis had promised to look out for her, and she believed him.
