Page 42 of Homecoming: The Devil's Society

Uncle Gregory steps forward and motions,after you.

We lead the way, with me and E still hand in hand, walking through the commotion of sweaty bodies, clouds of smoke and endless piles of drugs and booze. Those already initiated seem to be treating this as a party or rave of sorts. I feel claustrophobic. My chest races as my eyes squeeze shut. I need to get out of here. E can sense my distress. His casual walk has turned into brisk steps. He has reached back, nudging me to go ahead of him. As I do, he engulfs me in his arms, protecting me from outside factors.

Reaching the end of the room, we are standing in front of the beautiful, large windows. The moon is bright, reflecting off the river below. This property is stunning.

E reaches out, turning the glass door handle, and pushes it open. The fresh air washes over us, and I close my eyes briefly as I breathe it in. The smell of nature invades me. My body relaxes, feeling peaceful again.

I step into the wooden deck which branches off to the side of the house, then up the stairs to a larger deck space.

The space is empty. Just the three of us.

Lounge sets and outdoor living furniture decorate the area, along with space heaters. This must be one of many outdoor spaces, as there isn’t any sign of its use.

I presume we are going to take a seat and begin to walk toward the plush outdoor couch, but my body is pulled in the opposite direction, compliments of my leash. It nips at my fresh clit piercing which stings. A hiss sneaks out between my teeth.

Spinning around, I see we are headed to the ledge.

A breeze passes by, and the leaves in the trees rustle. The sound of moving water catches my attention. I find it soothing. My eyes are captivated by it, watching the current move it. Thestars shine bright alongside the moon. I look toward E, curious if we can raise our masks. He still has his own on, so I leave mine as well.

“Nephew, you did well this evening,” his uncle states as he comes to stand next to me, looking out into the distance. His cologne is strong, I scrunch my face at the smell. I hate it. It is overwhelmingly musky, in the worst way.

We don’t acknowledge his statement.

E’s cheek presses against the side of my head, his lips whispering in my ear, so only I can hear, “Let’s see if he can fly, little bat.”

I want to smile with glee. Clap my hands at the excitement. As below us, the river is shallow with sharp mountain rock lining the edges.

Gregory turns to face E, who is standing behind me still. His back leans casually against the deck railing. His hands are in his trouser pockets as he crosses one foot over the other.

“Come on then. What did you want to discuss, nephew?”

In response, E’s foot rises, bending slightly at the knee, before shooting back out and connecting with his uncle's abdomen.

He is caught completely off guard. As his body tips backward, his hands reach out of his pockets and his arms circle, looking for balance, which they never find.

With raised feet, he falls back. Loud hollers echo around us.

Lifting my mask, I look back at E, who has his own in his hand. My brows rise as the largest smile adorns my face. “Thank you.”

He shakes his head at me in response. His dark, floppy hair hangs over his forehead as the skeleton face tattoo looks exquisite in the night light. The look on his face responds back to me,don’t be silly,I live for this shit.

My brow furrows as I realize, “E, shouldn’t there have been a splash?”

He tilts his head, his face concentrated. Nothing. No splash, no moans of pain. It’s too quiet.

We both hold on to the railing and lean over, looking for the dead body. Scanning the river, nothing is floating, nor are there traces of blood. Moving to the rocks, they are clean of any debris.

An evil laugh erupts from E’s mouth as he points down directly below us. Neither of us could have seen this happening with the darkness encompassing us.

His uncle didn’t make it to the river or the rocks.

A broken-off thick, sharp tree branch sticking up from the earth has impaled itself through Gregory’s chest. His body hangs limp in the air.

I join in laughing.

What a fucking night!

Then I realize, he sort of died similarly as my own evil father. The difference is that I stabbed the sharp dagger into his chest many times. Whereas nature stabbed Gregory for us.

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