Page 3 of Karma

I stop and assess her. “Are you okay?”

She certainly doesn’t look okay. Smears of makeup darken her cheeks as she forces a nod. “Yeah, we’re fine.”

“I didn’t ask about him.”

“I’m fine,” she says, raising her chin.

She’s the most stunning creature I’ve ever seen, and her stoic ways make her even more attractive. I very much understand that fake-it-until-you-make-it attitude. The feigned confidence. It’s pretty much my eternal state at this point.

I turn my attention back to the sack of shit, who’s grown enough balls to creep a little closer to us. “You’re incredibly stupid. Pretty girl like that? Shit. Learn to do something better with your hands than abusing her.”

I look back at her, and she wipes her cheeks to try to hide any sign of emotion, but I’ve done all I can at this point. I’ve already spent more time on their disturbance than I should have. If I don’t get my suit before the dry cleaner panics and closes shop, I’m shit out of luck for the night.

Be careful, I mouth, and she throws me a quick, half-hearted nod.

I jog across the parking lot and make it back to the dry cleaners just as they turn their sign from Open to Closed. I go inside and pay the man before taking my suit to my car and stuffing it in the backseat.

My phone buzzes. I raise it, and the screen lights up as Adam’s name flashes across the top.

Are you ready for tonight?

Of course I am. Pawns like me have true purpose tonight. I’ve been crafted into a killer and trained as their loyal attack dog. There was a time in the beginning when I was torn between being a good boy and ripping apart anything in front of me, but good no longer exists in me.

I study the text again. Adam was born into the Exodus. He’s a pampered little shit stain, and I can’t fucking stand him. In my position, however, I don’t get to pick my friends. When Adam decided he wanted to be pals, I had to grin and pretend I wasn’t dying inside.

He’s not here to see my face as I climb into my car, so I don’t have to fake the emotion with my body. My reply, however, needs to match his enthusiasm.

Hell yes!

I wipe my face and look into the rearview mirror. Life has been washed from my haunted gray eyes. Black hair falls over my forehead, but I blow it away on an exhale. I raise my sleeve as I stare at two dozen scars racing up and down my arm, crossing through my tattoos. I mark myself with pain after each slaying. Each scar represents a person I’ve killed since being turned into a henchman.

The self-inflicted cuts began as a prayer of apology to God, a way to put my emotional pain into a physical state. But the last few gashes? They were whispers of thanks to the devil. This is who I am now. The guilt is gone, which makes me feel like an animal instead of a human being.

That’s what they’ve always wanted anyway. I’m the living embodiment of their goal. I’m their unquestioning killer.

The Exodus’ hit list burns a hole in my pocket. The names of those they want eliminated during the ten-hour party. While they’re fucking each other and having a grand time in the cabin, I’ll do their dirty work and return to them with some kind of party favor.

A human taken against their will, much like I once was.

I make the drive back to my house, then head to my closet to make sure the entirety of my outfit is presentable. I’m not wearing a full suit; that’s more common for the elders. Adam and I will likely wear the same thing: our suit pants and a black dress shirt. Black on black on black. Something that blends in with the night.

I pull the pressed slacks and shirt from the garment bag and hang them in my closet. My rabbit hops into my room and thumps his massive feet. He’s a Flemish giant, and he has free range of my house. I reach down and stroke his dense black coat. He’s dark enough to blend in with our outfits.

“Hey, Petey,” I say as I rub his giant ears.

Call me a monster any other time of day, but I’m soft once you sit me down with this fucking animal. He was a meat rabbit, destined for slaughter, but I stole him from a pen at a farm, and I have zero regrets about it. God will shun me for everything I’ve done in the last decade, but maybe this rabbit and I can give him a little smile before he sends me off to hell.

“I’ll be back late tonight. Don’t wait up,” I tell Petey, as if he can understand me.

I won’t be home until after the ten-hour reckoning is over. Maybe later if I linger at the party so that I can fuck something other than my hand for a change.

I go and shower so I can wash off any guilt that may try to rear its ugly head. I’m not allowed to feel such things. It’s a weakness—a sign that I’m failing at what my life has become.This monster is who I am now. There’s no option to be someone else. There’s no way to let the old me return. He’s dead.

And I’m dead if I ever try to revive him.

Sam places his hand on my thigh as he steers the car down the street. Panic already pervades the town, and boards cover most store windows. Some have been completely abandoned in favor of a quick escape, and few shop owners still remain. I bear witness to the fear in their eyes as they furiously hammer nails into plywood.

The night from hell is coming.

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