Page 93 of False Idols

I barely have time to get my knife up when the door to my dad’s study flies open and The Reaper charges out at me. He’s big like Nevaeh said he was. Quieter, though. He slams into me and we both go down, but I bring the knife up and down twice and cut into him. My first stab goes into his shoulder and the second in his back. He grunts and turns, hits my arm and tries to knock the knife away, but I keep hold of it.

This isn’t the first time someone has tried to get a weapon off me in close quarters. Probably won’t be the last either, if I make it out of this alive.

I roll away from them and slash at the air to force them back a step as I get to my feet. The Reaper is already up and even though I felt the knife sink into him and there’s blood on the floor between us, he shows no sign of being wounded. He’s dressed in all black robes that make me think of the photos of liturgical vestments Pastor Mike showed us when he went over the history of the Church, but there’s something wrong about them. It’s not just the color, it’s the cut and fit of the robes.

The Reaper wears black leather gloves and there’s a hood pulled low over his face so the only thing looking back at me are shadows. I adjust my grip on the knife as we circle each other for a minute and I hear the tip tap of his blood hitting the hardwood floor. Outside, the storm rages and it’s when a crack of thunder rumbles that The Reaper makes his move. He reaches into his robes and pulls out a knife of his own. It’s military spec, the kind that’s meant to do damage to bodies and I know if I let him get a clear shot at me with that fucking thing it’s going to be hard to get back up.

His knife shines in the light and then he points it at me. “You’ve sinned. This is your penance.” He growls and I almost drop my fucking knife.

I know that voice. I’ve heard that voice for years the same as anyone else that ever walked inside the walls of Crown of Thorns. I know who this motherfucker is and I hate that I never saw it coming.

No one in Bloom did.

“Vengeance is Mine, I will repay," says the Lord,” The Reaper quotes and then he’s on me.

37

NEVAEH

My mom is dead. I stare at her for what feels like an eternity but is probably only seconds. It’s hard to focus on anything but my mother’s face. Her eyes are closed and I’m glad for it. I couldn’t handle seeing her like Simon. Lifeless and blank. Her body is tied to the chair, zip ties keep her posed in the chair. Without the extra support, I don’t know if her body would be able to stay where it is.

She’s been dead for a while. Even in the dark with the weak light of the house shining against her, I can tell. There’s a flash of lighting and I stagger back a step when it makes everything daylight bright for a few seconds.

The Reaper cut her throat, but not just that. He cut a smile into her face, the corners of her mouth extend into a distorted grin. Her skin has been cut away, exposing her teeth and muscle.

“Oh my god,” I whisper and clutch my knife tighter. I want to cut her free, but it wouldn't do any good, would it? She’s dead. How long has she been this way? Why did he bring her body here? I squeeze my eyes shut, try and take in a deep breath. He killed my mother.

Did he kill her to get to me? Am I the reason why this happened to her?

“Mama,” I choke out and fall to my knees in front of her. I have to get her out of here. I have to get her out of the chair. I grab the zip tie at her arm and start cutting through it. “Mama, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. Oh my god, please wake up,” I sob. I keep cutting through the zip ties but she doesn’t wake up.

“Mommy, oh god. Mommy!” I yank at the zip tie. The rain falls hard and it’s when I start working on the zip tie at her ankle that my grip on my knife falters and I cut my hand. The blade slices into my palm and the pain cuts through the panic flooding my brain.

“What am I doing?” I stare at my hand. The blood wells up for a second before it’s washed away. I look up at my mom, but I can’t look at her face. Oh god. What he did to her face. I look away, over her head and breathe.

“You can’t help her,” I tell myself. “You have to go. You can’t help her.”

I force myself to stand and take a step and then another. I have to leave her here. “I’m sorry,” I tell her when I’m a step past her chair. I lift my eyes to the raging sky but freeze when I see movement on the second floor. There’s a library there. I know it because I went poking around the house earlier for something to do and found a room full of nothing but the classics.

“My dad’s office is through here,” Beau told me when he found me reading. We’d left to make pancakes after but I’d wanted to go back to that library. The Reaper is there now. I see the flash of his blade, but he misses Beau. I watch as Beau lands a punch and slams the knife into The Reaper’s shoulder. He drops the robbed figure to his knees and hope fills me.

Oh my god. Beau’s going to win.

I walk forward, transfixed by the scene playing out in front of me. The Reaper is on his knees and puts a hand against the window to push himself up but Beau is waiting for him and kicks him back. He stands over The Reaper and I see the knife he took from me in his hand. He’s going to end it all. But before he can, someone else steps into the room.

It’s another robed figure.

“No! Beau, look out!” I scream when I see them head for Beau. They’re moving slowly, trying to be quiet and I don’t know why Beau hasn’t killed the man at his feet. What is he waiting for? If he waits any longer it’ll be too late, the person at his back is going to kill him. My mother is dead but I won’t lose Beau.

“Beau!” I scream again, but he can’t hear me. I’m too far away and the storm is too loud. I have to get to him.

“No! God, please!” I scream and take off running for the door. I can’t let this happen. It’s not fair. He beat The Reaper. There were never supposed to be two of them. I slam into the door and rip it open. I fall to my knees when I manage to get in but don’t stop moving and keep running. I sprint up the stairs, my bare feet slap on the hardwood stairs and I almost fall, but I don’t stop running. I can’t stop. If I do, Beau will be dead and then I’ll have no one.

I turn down the hall and see the library door open. Beau swears. “I’m going to kill you both, motherfuckers!” My heart leaps in my throat. If he’s cussing at them, he’s alive. I’m not too late. Not yet. I slow down, walking with care. I don’t think they’ve heard me yet. When I’m close to the door, I press close to the wall and crouch down. I edge closer to get a look inside the room. I see Beau, his back to the door that leads into his father’s office and by the windows there’s The Reaper. But there’s another black robed figure standing with their back to the door. They’re smaller than The Reaper, so I know they aren’t who I faced down two nights ago.

They’re someone new.

I wonder who they are, but the second they take a step in Beau’s direction, I don’t care. All I know is they’re fucking dead. I push off from the floor and launch myself at them. Their scream pierces the air when I slam my knife into their back and we go rolling on the floor. I taste blood in my mouth when my chin hits their shoulder, but I don’t let go of them. When we come to a stop, it’s with them on top of me. I see the flash of their knife a second before they slash at me, but I raise my arm to block them and it’s only my forearm they catch.

---