Page 124 of Anathema Codex

Before the kid has a chance to react, I rush him and slam the hatchet against his chest. His eyes go wide as he tries to take a deep breath, so I clip him with the handle and drop him onto his ass. Once he’s down, I kick him in the face to make this easier on myself. I really thought he’d put up more of a fight than this when I decided to erase this mistake, but he’s too damn drugged-out to be worth my time. Raising the hatchet over my head, I bring it down into his chest, laughing when the blood flies and the sweetcrackof his ribs greets my ears.

“D... a... d... S... t... o... p.”

I roll my eyes as I drop a knee into his chest and smack his shitty hair out of his face. When his eyes close, more than likely swimming in the agony he has to be feeling, I slap the palm of my free hand against his forehead to open them again.

“Hey,” I bark at him, watching his eyes come in and out of focus. “Before you wander off into that precious light of yours, there’s something I want you to take with you. That Willa girl? I guarantee she never loved you. Ineverwould have given you a chance past what you already got, and this…” I reach down and remove the black hair tie from his wrist, slipping it onto mine. “This stays with me.”

He makes a desperate grab to get the little bauble he’s been holding onto since his bitch friend died, and I get to my feet before his fingers even have a chance to graze it one last time.

With a grunt, I yank the hatchet free to raise it over my head again and bring it down with such fury that I know it’ll probably stay where I’ve managed to bury it.

Right between his bullshit,daddy please love me,eyes.

Cracking my neck, I put my hands on my knees in an attempt to catch my breath before I go see where Trixie has gone. Things like this were a lot easier twenty years ago, but to my credit, it’s not just these three dipshits I killed; I took out a bunch of the commune on my way up to the love shack.

“I should probably take you with me,” I tell Aftyn as I step over him and reach for the handle. “Bringing Trixie back won’t be as easy since she’s not the carefree little wondercunt I remember her being.”

Taking a deep breath, I begin to drag his still twitching body in the direction I saw Trixie run in. I know where I’ll find her because she’s never been very smart, no matter how much she tried to be.

It takes me a little longer to walk to the love shack, but when I kick the door open, the bang echoes throughout the fucking place and I can hear Trixie gasp. Glancing to my left, I smirk before I turn around, put both hands on the handle, and yank the kid in with one final pull.

“Here’s your fucking sacrifice, Trixie,” I say as she puts a hand on her stomach and takes a step backwards. “Now, do I have your attention, little girl?”

THIRTEEN

Sacrificial Lambs

BEATRIX

It feels like the air is suddenly too thin and too warm. Lakyn Meyer fills the doorway of my little house and memories are flickering in my head.

Memories thatshouldbe dead and buried with the woman he wants to speak to so desperately. Deep in the desert ground.

But something about him is bringing them to the surface. The way he’s covered in blood with that merciless grin on his face, the hatchet buried in Aftyn’s head… all of it seems to tug at a forgotten part of me.

Horrifying and familiar.

Sacrifices. We’ve done this before.

“Trixie!” he snaps, and my gaze jerks back to his blue eyes, so much like Aftyn’s and yet so different. So much colder and more hateful and connected to that woman that doesn’t exist. “You have one chance to answer me, bitch, because I—”

“I remember,” I whisper, holding up one hand to keep him back while the other clings to the dress covering my belly. The words are a half-truth, because I don’t quite remember, but there are flickering images in my mind.

A thin boy with a sweet face.

A van.

The scent of cigarette smoke.

Lakyn’s wild grin.

And blood.

By the Light… so much blood.

“You remember now?” Lakyn asks, chuckling under his breath as he leans against the doorframe and pulls out a pack of cigarettes with blood-soaked fingers. “What do you remember, Trixie?”

Trixie. Trixie. Trixie.

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