Page 98 of Property of Necro
You do not speak. You serve. You kill.
I flex my fingers at my sides, opening and closing them in a fist. Tomorrow, I’ll draw on my teachings and kill with my bare hands. I’ll create more art.
There is no easy way out.
Only through…
The grief.
The weakness.
The sin.
Tomorrow, I break myself.
Tomorrow, I snuff out whatever goodness is left.
I am no one.
Chapter
Twenty-Eight
Pacing the apartment,hands threaded behind my head, I wear a hole through the floor.
I’m antsy because I have an idea, and it’s a terrible one. It came to me last night after another nightmare. Don’t worry, it wasn’t about them. Well. Not exactly. It was Ted. They’re almost always Ted. Now they’re Ted and them. They’re fighting, and Ted kills them, which is why I woke up drenched in a cold sweat, shaking. In my post-nightmare shower haze, a lightbulb went off.
I can’t see them.
They don’t want me there.
They sent me away.
But I miss them.
I know that’s weird and clingy, and I should really see a therapist about it, but I’m not ready to talk to a professional just yet. I need to talk to Cell, our resident computer genius, who knows all there is to know about the dark web. She may already have links to Necro’s Red Room or atleast know someone who does, or someone who knows someone who can get us in.
Chewing my thumbnail, I square my shoulders and march over to Cell’s corner. It’s an old hallway she’s converted into an insane computer setup. Rot would kill for this much fancy tech. She’s got everything and then some.
I stop at the opening to her nook.
Theclick, click, clickof her computer keys gives me pause. She’s busy. I can always come back later.
“What’s up, Sola?” she asks like she has two eyes in the back of her head.
“How did you know I was here?”
She taps on a tiny box on the corner of one of her screens. Ah. Yes. There I am. She has a camera. That makes sense.
I wring my hands in front of me, not sure how to ask what I want to ask. I’m even more worried she’ll tell Kali or Till, and I don’t need them meddling. This is about me. Not them.
“I need your help.”
“Doing what?” She clicks a browser closed.
“First, you have to promise not to tell anyone, especially Till or Kali, what I’m about to ask.”
Curiosity piqued, Cell rolls her expensive computer chair out from under her desk and spins to face me. “That’s a tall order.”
