Page 59 of Horror and Chill
My brain struggles to catch up. Their words clang around in my head, colliding with old memories I’ve spent years trying to bury—childhood trinkets that appeared on my doorstep, the button, the Polaroid. Things I told myself were accidents, coincidences.
“I'm not going to ask how you got in,” I say. “We all know I'd hate the answer. Why are you here? You started this game in the woods.”
Garron leans forward, his jaw set, eyes locked on me. “To stop letting you talk to ghosts.”
“And to make rules,” Evander adds.
Corwin tips his head. “We came to collect. And to tell you to stop pretending you don’t know who you belong to.”
My laugh rips out sharp, and I step toward him because I can’t help myself. “I belong to myself. That was the whole point of the channel. I kept the leash and handed out the illusion. You cut it without asking.”
“You asked to be hunted. Don’t curse the hunters now that they’ve found you.”
I feel my lip curl, my chest tight. “I asked for a show. You’re here to give me a funeral.”
“We’re not going to kill you, at least not yet.” Garron smiles.
“Did you kill him?” I force it out. I don’t have to say his name; they know who I’m talking about.
Corwin doesn’t blink. “Yes.”
I don’t move. I don’t flinch. I let the word sit where it lands. My mouth tastes like copper even though there is no blood. “Why did I get to walk away?”
Evander looks at me as if he sees all my broken pieces. “Because you’re the part that makes the rest make sense.”
Garron steps closer. “Because you asked for us. And we answer when we’re called.”
I should be afraid, but I’m not.
I let my gaze move from face to face. Same bones. Same mouth. Different storms behind the eyes. I want to tell them to leave. I want to tell them to come closer and get on their knees and beg. I want to tell them to say Jay’s name like it hurts. I want to say mine and hear it back in three different voices.
“So what do you want now? I know who you are. I know what you’ve done. You’ve murdered two people. Unless that little movie at the shop was a skit.” My eyes lock on Corwin.
“It wasn’t. That was VelvetNoose.”
“Three,” Garron adds, voice flat.
“Three? What?” My chest knots tight. I already know I don’t want to know.
“Three murders,” Evander says, smiling. “HolySpite from your channel is gone for good.”
“Fuck.” My head drops back, eyes closing. “So why now? I could go to the cops.”
“You’re coming with us,” Corwin says, giving me a little wink like this is a date.
“The fuck I am,” I snap.
Corwin’s smile sharpens. “You can come the easy way or the hard way. But either way, Little Horror, you’re leaving here with us tonight. We have things to show you. Things to give you.”
“Over my dead body.”
It happens fast after that. They move as one. Garron grabs my arms, pinning them tight to my sides while Corwin jerks a pair of panties from the laundry basket by the dresser and shoves them between my lips before I can bite or scream. The cotton tastes bitter and salt-stained. Tape tears with a sharp rip, and Evander presses it over my mouth.
I thrash, kicking hard, but Garron lifts me like I weigh nothing. Corwin takes my legs, my heels pounding uselessly against his thigh as they haul me through the door.
“Pack her a bag,” Corwin tosses over his shoulder.
Evander nods, already moving toward my closet. “On it.”
