Page 65 of Heart of a Killer

Skylar is standing in the hallway in front of the guest bedroom door, dressed in a pair of my drawstring sweats and an oversized white T-shirt.

“What are you looking at?” I ask, walking up behind her.

My chin rests on her shoulder while my fingers trail across her exposed neck. I use my other hand to pull her flush against me. Her short hair is pulled into a small ponytail that suits her face. It sharpens her jawline and only makes me want to rub my scruff over it, reddening her skin.

“The last time I was here, there was a shadow of a person standing in this doorway,” she confesses.

The area is filled with mannequins, fabrics, and sewing equipment. In the center of the room is a plastic figure wearing the unfinished piece my mother was working on before she decided to leave me. It brings back memories of our fights over Josh, and I know now that he’s a part of my personality. The one that is harder around the edges, the one with the backbone to do the things I can’t do in full consciousness. She was right on that front, and I’ve accepted him as part of myself.

“This was my mother’s work area. She kept mannequins all over the house. They were my only friends growing up. I even made one my brother and named him Josh.”

“That’swho Josh is?”

“He’s a part of me. A part I didn’t realize I kept separate.”

“That makes sense,” she admits.

“It does?”

“Yeah ... it sounds like masking, in a way.”

“What are you two gabbing about? Are we leaving yet?” Brie pipes in, stepping out of my bedroom wearing a similar attire to Sky.

I’ve already washed off the few areas of blood I had on me in the kitchen sink downstairs. So there’s only one thing left for me to do now.

“Yeah, I’ll just be a minute. The two of you can wait in the car.”

I toss Brie the keys. She grabs them out of the air before skipping away.

Skylar lingers behind, grasping my hand, and whispers, “You can always be yourself with us, okay?”

I nod, and she stands on her tiptoes to kiss me on the cheek. My stomach flips at the simple yet powerful sentiment.

This is how my life is meant to be.

The office door is still open, and I go back to grab a kerosene container. I begin tossing the gas around the house, covering the old antique wallpaper and sheer curtains. Holding the can behind me, I make a trail leading upstairs where my fucked-up parents lie peacefully in death. They deserved so much more pain than the mercy we gave them. The fumes fill the air as I douse them with the kerosene. The sloshing from the container dies away as I use the last drops on my mother’s skull, and then I leave. My steps pound down the stairs, and I strike a match, lighting the place up in flames.

Fuck the past; it can burn in hell.

Continuing my path until I’m out of the lawn, I turn to see the fire blazing. This old house will collapse at any moment. The smoke fills my lungs as I inhale a deep breath, and euphoria crashes in waves over my skin. It’s done.

And just like that, I’m a new person.

Epilogue

Alex

“Codi, turn that off,” I command after Brie turns “Butterfly” by Crazy Town up louder.

“Whyyyy? Delphin loves this song,” Brie whines, turning to look at Skylar in the back seat. “Don’tcha?”

“I swear I’m never going to get used to these names,” Skylar complains. “Azrael? Like, really? You couldn’t have picked a better name?”

“Iamthe Angel of Death,” I admit, opening the driver’s side door.

I pop the back of the Jeep, and a man squirms with his hands and feet tied up. His mouth is covered with duct tape, the cuts that line his face are deep, and his eyes are wide. The lack of eyelids doesn’t help his permanently shocked expression. Ammonia wafts from the man, which only causes my nose to wrinkle and my teeth to grate together. These parasites are worthless.

Anna gave me a name and a job as an executioner, which I take seriously.

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