Page 134 of Sinister Legacy
They would be right.
I don’t tell him that I understand my father’s struggle with the darkness now. Or maybe that’s presumptive of me? Maybe my father didn’t struggle at all.
But no, that’s not true. My father loved his family. Maybe he played a role—most serial killers lead successful double lives—but I don’t doubt that I was the apple of his eye. His only spot of light in the darkness, like he would tell me before kissing me goodnight.
A monster isn’t an emotionless robot. While driven by sinister urges and cravings that whisper cruelly in the mind, a monster is still capable of love.
In their own way.
I refuse to think my father never loved me and was incapable of human connection. I’m a monster, too. My father is probably the only person, besides King, who I feel connected with.
So Iknowmy father struggled with his darkness. I know he was driven by a force beyond himself. Something that stole him from me. An evil, if you will, that whispered secrets in his ear.
The lights go out, descending the room into darkness.
“What the hell?” Officer Wells whispers. The scrape of his chair cuts through the silence as he rises to his feet. His phone screen comes on, lighting up his haunted face. He draws his gun, and I wonder briefly what good it will do when we can’t see anything. But I don’t ask questions. I stay silent while he puts the phone to his ear, his worried but determined eyes landing on me. Unlike him, I feel detached. I watch the scene unfold with mild disinterest. My heart hammers wildly in my chest, but I’m also strangely calm.
Wells hangs up the phone, grumbling something about voicemail. He puts on the flashlight and darts it around the room.
“How does the third act end, Officer Wells?”
The beam lands on me and I squint, bringing my shackled hands up in front of my face to shield me from the too-bright light.
Officer Wells lowers the flashlight once more, sliding it toward the closed door behind him. “It doesn’t end well.”
“I know how it ended for the main detective in my father’s case.” There’s a smile in my voice, and Wells hears it. The light slides away from the door and shines in my face.
Too damn bright.
“My father killed him.”
“We caught you, Keira. It’s a power outage.”
I throw my head back and laugh, the cruel, cold sound bouncing off the walls. “You’re so sure I killed all those people, huh?”
“A devil’s mask with your DNA all over it was discovered with the remains of your stepfather. How do you explain that, Keira?”
“Circumstantial.”
“Bullshit,” he spits, jostling the light. “You killed him.Butcheredhim. You wore the mask.”
“Fine, I wore the mask. So fucking what?” I’m annoyed now. “It’s Halloween season. Every kid in the country has a mask. You can buy the same fucking one almost everywhere.”
“That argument won’t hold up in court, Keira,” he bites out, unnerved by the sudden power outage.
“If it’s just an outage, why are you pointing your gun? You look a little worried, Officer Wells.”
Breathing harshly through his nose, he slides the light back toward the door.
The open door.
My heart jumps to my throat as a peal of laughter slips from my lips. Wells releases a string of expletives and takes a protective stance in front of me. His light darts across the room, chasing shadows.
“Welcome to the third act, Officer Wells, where no one is safe,” I taunt him. “How about you remove my handcuffs, so I stand a fighting chance of defending myself.”
“Not a fucking chance,” he growls.
“The room is small. There are only so many places the killer can hide.”
