Page 175 of Sin Like the Devil

“Phoenix?” a voice responds.

I recognise Bancroft’s regal tone.

“Tank,” Harrison answers.

“Fine.” Their footsteps are muffled. “And her?”

“Nothing, sir.”

I hear the shuffle of clothing before a hand strokes over my tangled hair. Peeking through tear-logged eyes, I look up at Bancroft. He’s crouched beside me, darkness filtered across his aged features.

“All empires fall, Ripley,” he croons softly. “But not this one.”

“I d-didn’t… The number….”

“Hush, dearest.” I want to recoil when he pets me like a dog, but I’m too weak. “It’s no matter. They’re coming for us regardless now.” Bancroft smiles shrewdly. “We have their plaything.”

Their… plaything?

“I’m still mightily disappointed in you, Ripley.” He sighs dramatically. “After all I’ve done for you. But it’s no matter, your uncle already issued his consent. You’re ours to repurpose now.”

Desperation barely registers.

“Please.” My whisper comes out frail and paltry.

“It’s a little late to plead for your life, isn’t it?” He tuts under his breath. “You should’ve thought of that before you betrayed us. I do hate disloyalty.”

Straightening to his full height, Bancroft smooths a hand down his front. He casts a critical eye around the room, taking each iteration of horror in.

“Your friend Rick here is learning his own lesson about not sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong. But I think we have something more suitable for your level of transgression.”

“Sir?” Harrison prompts.

“I believe Professor Craven requested both Ripley and Lennox. Let him have his fun. I am sure she’ll be returned as a clean slate, ready for sale.”

I groggily watch Harrison unleash a grin. “As you wish, sir.”

Bancroft casts me a final look of disappointment. “Goodbye, Ripley.”

This time, I’m a lifeless flop in Harrison’s arms. I don’t even have the energy to acknowledge Rick as we exit. My head lolls, the steady patter of blood dripping from multiple lacerations leaving a trail behind us.

Flashing in and out of consciousness, I startle when the clank of a metal door opening permeates my mind fog. We’re in yet another cell. The scent of spilled blood rushes up to meet me, so thick and cloying it makes me gag.

“Ah.” Craven’s voice is a featherlight tenor. “Right on time.”

CHAPTER 28

XANDER

V.A.N – BAD OMENS & POPPY

Spinning the all-access keycard between my fingers, I study the unfolding scene. A female guard is beating the shit out of a screaming patient, wearing them down while her backup prepares to deliver a sedative. They don’t seem to care that we’re watching.

It’s funny how quickly a façade crumbles once the damage is done. Those spiderweb cracks soon lengthen and multiply. No one can stop the progression of an avalanche once that first clap rings out and the snowfall breaks.

Destruction is imminent.

Who will emerge remains to be seen.

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