Page 69 of Back In the Shadows

Now would be a good opportunity to weigh in, Sebastian.The asshole wasn’t anywhere around, though. He was probably hiding and feeling sorry for himself after how he treated my little lamb.

“Where can I find the Pied Piper?”

John shook his head. “He’ll find you when the time is right. Rest assured it’s soon.”

With a sinister grin, I started to sing “Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you? You’re singing a fucking nursery rhyme now?” John asked, his tone thick with disbelief.

“How does your garden grow?” I sang. “Lucky for you, you’ll get to help fertilize her garden.” I chuckled at my joke and then with a quick flick of my wrist, I peeled the flesh and muscle off the side of his face.

“Thanks for the information, motherfucker. This is for Ella.” I dragged the tool down his throat and ripped out his larynx as he screamed for the very last time.

Blood spurt across my once clean shirt as it soaked me to the skin.

33

DEATH

“They searched the hills with torches, never knowing darkness had taught their lamb to love the void.” ~ Anonymous

A half hour had passed as I remained in the room, my mind plunging into the dark depravity of my soul.

The metallic scent of blood filled my lungs as I dragged my fingers through the crimson pool beneath John’s corpse. With methodical precision, I began writing on the concrete wall in his blood:

I COUNT THE WAYS I’LL MAKE THEM SUFFER

My hand trembled, not from fear but from the pure ecstasy of imagining their pain. Below it, I added:

FOR EVERY TEAR SHE SHED

The blood dripped down the wall like macabre tears. Kip watched from the doorway, his expression impassive. He’d seen me like this before.

“You’re slipping,” he said quietly. “Sebastian’s fighting to surface.”

“Let him try.” I dipped my fingers in more blood. “Sebastian needs to see this. Needs to understand what we’re capable of when someone takes what’s ours.”

I began drawing symbols beneath the words of ancient things that lived in the darkest corners of my mind. Patterns that spoke of torture and vengeance.

“Should I be worried?” Kip asked, his voice carefully neutral.

I turned to him, aware of how I must look covered in John’s blood, my eyes wild with barely contained violence. “Worried? No. But they should be. Anyone who touched her, who made her feel fear …” I dragged my bloody fingers across my face, marking myself. “I’m going to take them apart piece by piece while she watches. And she’ll love me for it.”

“Jesus,” Kip muttered.

“No.” I smiled, knowing it wasn’t a kind expression. “Just Death. And I’m going to show them exactly why they should have feared that name.”

I pressed my palm flat against the wall, leaving a perfect bloody handprint. “This is my promise to her. Written in the blood of those who dared to cage my queen.”

I could feel Sebastian’s horror in the back of my mind, his desperate attempt to stop this display of madness. But he needed to understand—this was who we were. This beautiful violence was our true nature.

I whispered, more to myself than Kip, “I’m going to lay their bodies at her feet like offerings. Paint her skin with their blood. Show her that every drop spilled was for her.”

I turned back to John’s body, already planning how to display it when we found the others. It would be my gift to her. A tableau of vengeance that would make her understand the depths of my devotion.

“You think this will make her feel safe?” Kip asked.

“Safe?” I laughed, the sound echoing off the walls. “No. This will make her feel powerful. When she sees what I’m willing to do for her …” I dragged my bloody fingers across my lips, tasting copper. “She’ll finally embrace her own darkness completely.”

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