Page 94 of The Curse of Redwood
More tears fell down my cheeks.
“Oh, he will not be leaving,” Mr. Warren said, before snapping his fingers at the boys beside me. “Take him out of my sight and silence him. I cannot have him spreading lies about my family with his vile tongue.”
Ezekiel’s eyes went wide, but with one look from his father, he bit back any arguments.
“You wish us to kill ‘im, sir?” one of the men asked. “What of his family?”
“He has no family,” Mr. Warren answered, before puffing on his cigar. “The world will never even know he existed. Now take him away.”
“Please!” I screamed, as the men gripped both my arms and started dragging me from the foyer. “Ezekiel!”
He averted his eyes from me.
“Wait,” Mr. Warren spoke, and the men stopped walking. He turned to his son. “You will watch what they do to him.” He leaned closer and whispered something in Ezekiel’s ear. Whatever he said made Ezekiel tremble with fear. Then, the cold smile spread wider on Mr. Warren’s face. “Dispose of him here.”
A fist came down on the back of my head, sending me back to the floor. More hits followed. My ribs cracked under the force of heavy boots. My body was beaten. And the whole time, Ezekiel stood watching. Emotionless.
“Ezekiel! Please.” Another kick to my gut. A boot rammed into the side of my head. I was met with silence.
Even with my vision blurring with blood and tears, I found the strength to glare at the man I thought loved me. A man who had kissed me tenderly in the stable and in the attic when he read me his favorite stories. I meant nothing to him.
“I despise you!” I shouted at him, and then I was knocked back to the ground by a meaty fist. Rage bubbled inside me until I was consumed by it. I felt my life slipping away. I was bruised, bloody, and barely conscious. Yet, my anger gave me one final burst of energy. “I curse you all! This is not a home! It’s a prison! I wish you all nothing but dark days and unspeakable horror.”
And then the world went dark.
I flung upward in bed, gasping and crying.
Zeke held me to his chest and pet my hair, soothing me with soft words and touches. But I could not be soothed from the nightmare I’d just had. The defense sigil was supposed to subdue Philip, but the power of the memory must’ve been too great for even the mark to hold back.
“How could you?” I shouted, shoving Zeke away from me. “You just stood there and let him die!”
His shocked expression slowly morphed into understanding. “He showed you what happened.”
“Yes.” I got out of bed and grabbed my clothes from the floor. My hands shook as I put them on.
My body was physically fine, but the memory of the kicks and punches to my flesh were seared into my mind. Poor Philip. No wonder he was angry. The man he loved didn’t do anything to help when he needed him most.
“I told you I’m wicked,” Zeke softly said, appearing in front of me.
“Why?” I squeezed my hands into fists and pounded on his bare chest. “Why didn’t you help him?”
“Simple.” His face hardened. “I was a coward. I betrayed the only person to ever truly care for me because I feared death. Even more so, I feared my father. At first, I tried to save Philip by going along with the allegations and send him from the mansion. We’d be apart, but at least he’d be alive. Father wouldn’t have it. He made me watch Philip’s murder to teach me a lesson.”
“What did he say to you?” I asked, wiping at my wet eyes. “In the vision, he said something that clearly scared you. That’s when you became emotionless and just stared as they killed him.”
Zeke was quiet as he dressed. As impatient as I was for the truth, I waited for him to gather himself enough to answer.
“I told you once that my father was a cruel man,” Zeke said, once he was fully dressed and standing by the window. It was dusk now. “What I didn’t tell you was he was one of the brains behind the experiments at Lockton. His inventions were especially barbaric, for he didn’t view the patients as people, but rather as rats in a cage for him to poke and prod at. My mother was appalled by the things he did and left because of it. Her leaving cast a bad light on his good name, and he became even more twisted.”
Everything was beginning to make more sense now. Zeke had said his mom left before the curse came into being but had never said why.
“As for what he said to me that night, he threatened to send Philip to the asylum… tocurehim of his homosexuality.” Zeke growled and rested a hand on the windowsill. A book flew off the shelf and hit the wall, and the floor rumbled beneath my feet. He was barely keeping his anger in check. “I knew it would be a slow, miserable death for Philip. He would’ve endured countless torture before meeting his end. There was no saving him, so I chose the option I felt was best.”
His voice broke on his words, and his head bent forward. I ached to comfort him but stayed in place. The story wasn’t over yet.
“You asked what caused the curse,” he continued, finally moving his gaze to mine. Indescribable remorse stared back at me. “Philip’s dying words, spoken with so much rage and hatred because of my betrayal, caused a tear in the world. His soul became demented. Dark. Thus, a curse was born.”
“Why does it make families kill each other?” I asked, connecting the stories I’d read. All had involved at least one member butchering the others; mothers with their children, and then instances like Jasper.
