Page 69 of Beneath the Dirt

“No.”

“Yes,” I retort. “And since you already killed the guard, and then dear old Daddy, there’s just one more death that has to occur to complete your initiation into Heathen’s Cross.”

“This isn't happening. You’re taking what Heathen’s Cross was, and you’re manipulating it.”

“Oh, so only you are able to manipulate the truth?” I challenge her, bringing the blade to her chin, grazing it with enough pressure that a thin red line forms on her flesh.

“See, you made your sacrifice, but I’ve yet to make mine.” My voice ignites with excitement, thinking of how fun my sacrifice will be.

“This isn’t who you are.”

“Wrong. This isn’t who you remember me being. But what was, and what is, are two different things. You should be thanking me. I’ve become who you’ve wanted me to be. What you’ve always wanted me to be—free.”

“I hate you.” She says that like she believes it.

“Fuck, there’s that hatred again. You’re so fucking sexy when you pretend that you hate me. Will it make that needycunt of yours pulse and beg for me, if I say that I hate you too, sister? I bet you’d cream yourself right here and now if I told you that everything that has transpired tonight is your fault. That my downfall is your doing. That I no longer give a shit about making you feel anything other than what you made me feel. Which, in case you forgot, is like worthless, fuckable, disposable trash. At least this time I’ll fuck you with more than just my tongue. Don’t want to send you to your grave unsatisfied.”

She’s speechless. Too much truth to process at once. So, I continue. “Remember, you’re the one who fantasized about my hatred pumping in and out of your cunt that you came back here under the guise of needing a stupid necklace back. What happens tonight is on you. I’m just a vessel for your punishment and you just so happen to be the wet hole worthy of the punishment only I can give you.”

Araceli remains motionless, quiet and unsure.

“Lift her.” I instruct. The snake remains knotted on her legs and the two heathens signal for more to help transport her. “It’s time we really take her tothe last stop.”

Let’s see ifshesails this time.

Twenty

Darkness.It’s everywhere. It’s in the starless sky hanging above me. It colors the fabric of the hooded people gathered around me. It has taken their eyes hostage. No matter the actual shade of their irises—whether blue, green, brown or some variant in between—darkness… bleak, robotic darkness is all that stares back at me. Everything feels as dark as Harlan’s newfound soul… or lack thereof.

“Drop her there.” Harlan’s instruction is met with a synchronized, and rhythmic clapping from the members who seem to look at him as if he’s their leader. An arguably confusing position and an extremely frightening concept to grasp. That Harlan, my once conflicted church boy, now stands with pride as an intricate part of Heathen’s Cross. I thought it was just a haunt, but clearly it’s so much more. It’s a movement, and now it’s my curse.

The wind picks up, and the already fallen leaves lift and scatter about as my body feels like it’s floating. I can tell from the way the leaves shift and scrape that I’m being taken to the graveyard between the church and house. I’ve spent too many nights in this part of the property when I lived here, especially in autumn, to not recognize the sound foliage makes when fallen on uneven and rough limestone graves.

Without so much as a word or warning, the many hands that aided in my journey to the graveyard vanish from my body. A sinking feeling implodes in my gut as I crash to the uneven ground. My body aches in response to the fall and the pain makes me more aware of the snake still wrapped around my limbs. I wiggle myself around, trying to signal my arms to move, but they don’t budge. Rendered motionless by the drugs mixed with fear, I’m unable to fight it like I should. He’s winning.He’s fucking winning.

Harlan stands over me, saying something to get everyone to leave us alone. Of course, they obey, all mumbling a familiar chant as they walk away.

“Fatum enim eligimus.” They repeat in unison until they are out of hearing range.

“Finally, just me and you,” Harlan announces as something mauve in color, wrapped around my legs, grips my attention.

I blink repeatedly, desperate for clarity. “Ewww, get it off me!” I cry, vomit rising to my mouth as I stare at the slimy, thick intestines wrapped around my legs. As sick as it is, I would’ve preferred the snakes.

“Shut up!” Harlan’s boot lands on my rib cage before he flips me over onto my stomach. “Look!” He directs my head, twisting his hands that dig into my jaw beneath my mask. “Tell me what you see?”

“This isn’t real,” I breathe out, trying to believe the words I’m saying. Standing before me is The Last Stop, with its ornate windows and unevenlimestoneporch. But it isn’t in town like I remember it, it’s here. On the property… in the graveyard.

“How is it here?” I mutter my question. “I don’t understand. How is this The Last Stop?” I again try to convince myself, but all I see is the shed to the graveyard that my stepdad kept locked once he found me snooping inside.

“No, sister, you wanted it to beyourlast stop. But each time you visited, you were denied access with only the crumbs of truth you had. You can’t gain full entry until you learn the whole truth.That’s the only way blood for blood can be achieved. My dad tried so hard to keep the truth from you, he definitely didn’t help matters much.”

“What truth?” I ask in desperation, unable to determine what is true and what’s not anymore.

“Here, let me,” Harlan says, walking ahead of me, with a key in his hand.

He twists it and opens the stubborn door that never opened with ease for me. Once the door opens, familiar scents of incense and musk fill my senses, like I remember when I visited The Last Stop. Though all my memories are as shaky as my limbs. The foundation I thought I knew, crumbling before me. “You were so close to discovering the truth about who my dad was, and it scared him. Then, after we both landed in the hospital, he was afraid of what you began to unearth. So, he locked it. He took your notebook and everything you held dear, locked it inside the shed, just like he had done before. But just like the previous times when he locked it, you found the key. You always found that damn key. He hoped that you’d forget about it and move on. Truthfully, we all assumed that you did move on, considering how long it took you to come back here. Now I’ll ask you once, why did you come back last night only to leave?”

“I didn’t. The first time I’ve come back here since I left is tonight.”

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