Page 68 of Beneath the Dirt

A grin mars my face, stretching the mask over my head as Iapproach her. “Too late, you started this and now you’re going to finish it. But this time you’ll finish itwith me,” I announce with sadistic glee.

I continue over to her. Relishing in the way the fear—the reminder—of that night with the masks and carnage is ripping her boldness away, making her putty in my hands. “You look beautiful,” I lie. Though her body looks as fuckable as ever. The mask is hideous, but even so, its putrid state becomes her.

It’s adorable how hard Araceli is trying to fight against the hold of the Heathen’s I’ve tasked with keeping her still until I’m ready for her. “Let go of me!” she shouts, though the vigor in her voice is dwindling. The knife drops to the ground and I bend down to retrieve the weapon she used to kill my dad. I should feel remorse, but that emotion died a long time ago. For the man I was, I feel nothing, and that includes all those associated with me before my fall, my dad included.

He got what was coming to him.

Finally.

Now she will get what’s coming to her.

“Why are you doing this, Harlan?”

I ignore her, snapping my fingers for one of my fellow Heathen’s, who has what I’m looking for, to listen and bring me it. “Snake!” I call out. Even through the hideous mask on her face, there’s no missing the disdain—the terror—ripe within her irises.

I take an additional step forward, teasing her with the edge of the knife while I wait for the bucket with the snake. I remember how much she hates them, but she should appreciate my reasoning behind making sure a snake is present. Despite our upbringing, which made us look at serpents as evil creatures who represent God’s enemy, snakes are rich in symbolism. Something a writer such as herself should appreciate. Snakes represent many things. Such as transformation, renewed energy, and in some cases,rebirth.

A holy trinity of sorts.

A new beginning.

A new trifecta to become attached to.

The bucket with the snake now arrives in front of her, and one Heathen holds it in place while the other takes its contents out, guiding the poisonous snake onto Araceli’s body.

“You—” she stammers, the snake taking its sweet time wrapping around her thigh. I lick my lips at the sight of the pebbled marks on her skin. “You’ve changed.”

“I know. Isn’t it great how time has molded me into the heathen you’ve always wanted, but can’t have?”

“You disgust me.”

I click my tongue as my lips fall into a pout. “You shouldn’t talk like that. Your hatred does things to me.” I stifle a moan, watching her center glisten as her body remains in place by the force of hands that are not my own, and by the snake that has managed to tie her legs together as if it were practicing shibari.

Closing the gap between us, I dip one finger into her cunt. The pulse and clench it makes around my finger is a pathetic cry for me—one that I will make her work for if she wants it bad enough. Quick as I dove my hand in, I retract it, and she growls in anger. “You’re pathetic. I want nothing to do with you after this.”

A laugh sneaks past my lips. “After this? Who the fuck says there will be anafterthis? Look around, this isn’t the Holy Harvest. This is the meeting ground of Heathen’s Cross.”

She shakes her head in defiance… in denial.

“No, this is impossible. Heathen’s Cross was never here. It was out of town. It was far from here.”

“Was it though?” My question is purely rhetorical. “You keep choosing to believe that, but the fact remains that it’s All Hallows Eve, and since we have all gathered here today, a sacrifice must be made.”

Araceli fumbles her words. “I—I thought you said initiation.”

“Initiation. Sacrifice. Same shit.”

“No, it’s fucking not!” Araceli screams.

“There she is,” I mutter as I clap my hands. “Goddammit, you are such a bore when you get all whiny and confused. I like yourmean side. It gives me something to work with. Don’t look so sad, though. This is the end, sister, get excited.”

Live a little… before you can’t anymore.

“You’re a fucking idiot. I made a sacrifice for you. That part is done.”

“For that, I thank you. Sincerely, I am so grateful. You have no idea how long I’ve waited for him to croak. But, with the only law of three, it wouldn’t have worked if I took the liberty of killing him myself.”

Her head tilts ,and I pick up on her confusion, continuing on only to add to it more. “Three. You know, like the Holy Trinity. Except in order to achieve true initiation, three deaths need to occur tonight before midnight. That way, you have three tokens to feed the Ferryman. Since you so rudely skipped out on him before, this time he wants to be paid.”

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