Page 62 of Hide Me Darling

"Yes," Abel says. "But you need to solve this case for yourself."

"Why not just tell me?" I demanded, my tone sharper than intended.

Cain's gloved hand rests lightly on my shoulder. "Because understanding this case requires more than just knowing the identity of the killer," he explains. "It requires understanding their motives, their methods. To truly grasp their darkness, you must be willing to confront your own."

"Embrace the darkness inside you, Hydessa," Abel says, his voice calm yet insistent. "It's not a weakness; it's a strength."

I bristled at his words, the notion of embracing my darkness conflicting with everything I have struggled to be. "I've fought against that part of me for as long as I can remember," I reply, my voice tight with emotion. "I've done everything I can to keep it locked away."

Cain hums quietly. "We know," he says quietly. "But sometimes, embracing it is the only way to truly understand the mind of a killer."

Abel claps his gloved hands together, startling me. "Which brings us to the other reason we brought you here, or at least to this cave."

"We have a present for you, little shadow," Cain says, and I frown. I'm not sure I trust any of their presents after the cherry cookies and coffee incident.

Abel turns away, moving toward one of the walls of red and yellow rock near us. Pushing a button, lights suddenly flare inside the cave, almost blinding me. When the spots clear from my eyes, I realize we aren't alone. Toward the back, bound by chains to the wall and gagged, is a man. It takes a moment for what I'm seeing to register.

"Rye?" I gasp, my voice barely above a whisper.

Chapter 30

Hydessa

Looking at the man bound to the wall, my brain is struggling to understand what is happening. Rye's eyes widen with recognition as he struggles against the chains binding him. I take a step toward him, but Cain's hand on my shoulder stops me.

"Why?" I ask, my voice filled with confusion. "Why is he here?"

Abel turns back to face me, the neon green of his mask glowing ominously. "Rye has been a very bad boy," he says simply, his tone almost casual.

"We thought this could be a lesson for you, darling girl, but also, think of this as an offering,” Cain says.

"An offering?" I echo, still struggling to comprehend their twisted logic. "I'm not some sort of goddess."

"No, but you are our queen," Abel says with a dark chuckle. "And we will worship you as such."

Cain’s grip on my shoulder tightens slightly. "Yes, an offering," he says, his voice calm and controlled. "But first, if you could ask one question of the killers you investigate, what would it be?"

I blink, thrown off by the sudden shift in conversation. My mind races, trying to think of the most crucial question amidst the chaos. "Why do they do it?" I finally ask. "What drives them to kill?"

Cain tilts his head in acknowledgement as he considers my question. "Good question," he says, his voice thoughtful. "It's a common debate, right? Nature versus nurture? Everyone wants to understand what makes a killer do what they do. Are they born with that killer instinct or was there something that made them do it, that made them snap."

He pauses, looking over at Rye. "Take Rye here. He is an example of nurture, and I'll explain that in a moment. But the three of us, what we do, who we are, that's definitely nature at work. We’re born this way, it's in our DNA."

Abel laughs, a short, bitter sound that echoes off the cave walls. "We won the genetic fucking lottery," he says, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Cain hums in agreement before continuing. "But with our current serial killer, the one killing the tourists, because they are by definition a serial killer now, their reasons could be either or both. They certainly have something evil in their genetic makeup, but there was also an event that influenced them and went a long way to explaining why they killed those tourists."

I stare at Cain, trying to grasp the full weight of his words. "And what event would that be?" I ask, my curiosity getting the better of me.

“The ultimate event,” Abel interjects a little too cheerfully. “Death.”

I can almost hear Cain gritting his teeth from here. "Yes, death," Cain continues, his tone more measured. "Our killer had a brush with death, a near-fatal experience. It brought them face-to-face with their own mortality, and from that moment, they became obsessed with it. They want to know what others see, what they experience in that final moment."

I feel a chill run down my spine. "So, they kill to understand death," I say, more to myself than to anyone else.

"Precisely," Cain says. "Their own experience wasn't enough. They need to see it reflected in the eyes of others, to understand the fear, the realization, the acceptance."

"But how do you know all this?" I ask, still trying to piece together the enormity of the situation.

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