Page 38 of Shadows in Bloom

A smile spreads across my face as I confirm his suspicion. I pull my balaclava off and toss it towards the duffle. “He told you about me?” I question.

Jordan nods, his voice trembles, though it’s laced with anger. “You’ve been stalking him since he was in high school. You... you hurt him, burned him!” With a sudden burst of courage, Jordan demands, “What did you do to him? Where is he?”

“That’s none of your concern,” I say.

“You’re fucking crazy! Justice hates you,” Jordan screams.

My grip tightens on the handle of my knife, his taunts ringing in my ears. “Crazy! Crazy! Crazy!” I mimic. In one quick motion, I plunge my blade into the back of his hand, eliciting a blood-curdling scream. Relishing in his pain, I twist my knife before pulling it free then dragging the blood coated blade across his cheek.

“You’re right,” I say, forcing the tip of my blade into Jordan’s mouth. “I am crazy.”

Diablo tucks his own knife away and holds Jordan’s head still while I push my knife deeper into his mouth. Turning the handle, I drag the razor-sharp edge of the blade down the length of his tongue, relishing in his agonised screams.

When I draw my knife out, rich, crimson blood pours from Jordan’s mouth, down his chin, and onto his chest and torso. I slice down the centre of his chest, the long, deep wound spills more blood, and as Jordan’s eyelids flutter, and his breaths turn to erratic, gasping pants, I lean into whisper against his ear, “Justice is mine.” I shove my knife into his heart and step back.

“You good?” Diablo asks five minutes later when he takes the can of accelerant from my outstretched hand.

I nod once, light a match, and throw it onto Jordan’s mutilated corpse. As the flames rise, I inhale, watching in fascination as they curl around Jordan’s severed limbs, blackening them until the scent of his burning flesh fills my nostrils.

I step back and pull the front door closed before we make our way back to the car.

I watch from the passenger side of Diablo’s car as Justice’s house goes up in flames. There are no fire trucks in sight. The three that are normally on call, have been called out to a massive inferno at a fishing and camping store further out of town.

When concerned residents begin pouring from their homes, and police sirens sound in the distance, Diablo pulls away from the kerb and takes off into the night.

CHAPTER 7

JUSTICE

The cold, hard concrete beneath me is the first thing I notice when my eyelids flicker open. The second is the fact that I’m not bound or chained. As I blink my tired, gritty eyes, my vision clears, and familiar steel bars come into view.

This cell I’m in is one of four in the cold, dark basement of the abandoned Newhaven Asylum. Like the house Salem bought for me, I know this place well, and have been here many times before.

With a heavy sigh, and every muscle aching in protest, I push myself up to a sitting position and stretch out my legs as I lean back against the cold, stone wall.

On the opposite side of the large, open space, a steel work bench sits against the wall beside a row of steel cabinets and a huge, ornately carved armoire. I’ve seen the horrors that are kept hidden behind those antique doors, and I’m grateful it’s closed. Just the thought of the jars filled with human hearts, organs, and severed body parts, is enough to have bile rising in my throat.

Dropping my head back, I stare up at the damp roof for a few minutes, stretching my neck and wondering how long it will be before Salem returns. When boredom, and the need to stretch my tense muscles overtakes me, I stand, steadying myself against the wall for a minute before I begin my pacing.

The first time I was locked down here, terror coursed through my veins, and I screamed myself hoarse. Now, it’s simply another room… another place where Salem can inflict his torture on me and bend me to his will.

And I always fold.

Every. Single. Time.

Anger burns in my chest, at my life, at Salem, but most of all, at my own, pathetic weakness for him.

I stop at the door of the cell and curl my fingers around the cool, steel bars, peering out at the empty mortuary table in the centre of the room. A huge, silver light is suspended above and shines down on the table, reflecting off the stainless steel surface.

Dropping my hands, I’m about to turn and begin pacing again when my eyes latch onto the chains looped around the cell door. I gasp aloud and my heart rate increases when I see the lock hooked through the chains, but undone. Just hanging there, taunting me with the promise of freedom.

No. Don’t do it. My mind screams at me to step back into the shadows and huddle in the corner. Every time I’ve escaped, it’s because he’s allowed it. An unlocked door, an open window, chains and cuffs loose enough for me to free myself.

I weigh my options. Stay and remain a prisoner while subjecting myself to more of Salem’s torture. Or escape through the unlocked door and face the consequences when he inevitably captures me again.

“But what if?” I speak the question into the silence, and before I can talk myself out of it, I’m reaching through the bars and unhooking the padlock from the chains.

After dropping it on the floor where it lands with a loud clang, I wait, frozen in place as I listen for the sound of footsteps, for voices, for anything to tell me Salem’s close by.

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