Page 23 of Haunt

It has spires. Two of them. Sharp arrowing points like Devil fingers reaching for the blackened sky. It’s the first thing she sees, angling her head back to take them in. I stare at her as our boots thump quietly through the tall, dry grass, the earth hard and compact from months without rain. The grass swishes across her bare legs, poking at the backs of her knees. I want to reach down, scoop her up, keep her cradled to my chest, protect her from getting scratched up,marked.

OnlyIget to do that.

The noise from the street is long gone, a distant memory that feels, if it were not for the fluffy toy goat clutched in her free hand, like it might not have been real at all. I have waited far too long for a night just like this.

With her.

I study her as she glances left, chin still raised, trying to smother her fear. Darkness, shadows and trees, tall grass for as far as the eye can see. There is nothing else around, just this place of horror.

I have been here before, only once, when we had problems with a mafia Don, a few members of the Bianchi family.

Fuckers.

I have not been back since.

We begin weaving our way through headstones, I do not speak, even when I hear her breath catch. She is half hiding behind me as I lead us through the mass graves. I don’t know how she didn’t notice them on our approach. The tops of the weathered grey stones are bright, even in the dark, beneath the moonlight.

A concrete ocean of death laid out before us.

“No questions, Nellie,” my deep voice cuts through the quiet, her attention snapping to me, neck cracking as she cranes it back to look up at me.“Please.”

I don’t want to have to lie to you, even though we are both so dangerously good at it.

It is eerily more silent as we clear the graves, more so than before. We do not stop walking as we approach the house. The insects have quietened, the air is still, and the house before us, a living, breathing vessel for somethingmorestands in silent darkness.

We are near the building, half-illuminated by the moon. Dark brick, empty windows. Her head craning back, neck arching, I lead her forward. There are too many windows to count, four floors high, but it’s what lies in the belly beneath that we are here for tonight.

The seventh circle of hell roars with fire beneath our feet.

I wonder if she feels it yet.

Tugging her sharply left, she half skips to catch up with my rapid change of direction. I lead us further along the back of the house, and the ground opens up, a deep black pit of nothing. I stop over it, looking down, but Penelope’s still a couple paces back, our arms extended, hands joined between. I stare down into the hole, her arm trembling, I don’t want her to try and pull free, I don’t want her to run. I want us to stay together…

I will catch you if you try.

“Billy,” she whisper-hisses, my skin prickling at the sound, it is vicious, much like I shall be soon.

Slowly, I turn my head over my shoulder to look at her.

Her tiny frame, petite features, faux innocence.

Fuck, I can’t wait to devour you.

“Yes, Little Lamb?” I ask, a chill racing down my spine, even to my own ears it sounds cold and unfeeling.

“Billy, I’m scared,” it is breathless, her confession, and I can practically hear her heart thudding in her chest.

I breathe in deep, letting my eyelids flutter, and then I’m turning back towards her, yanking her forward, her shoulder joint cracking. She thwacks face first into my chest, my other arm binding across the back of her shoulder blades. I release her hand, grab her chin, squeezing her cheeks hard. She stares up at me, her split lip weeping, pale blue rings beneath her eyes. Her heart pounds so heavily in her chest it feels like it’s going to explode.

“They feed off of fear,” I breathe over her mouth, head dipping down, my nose touching hers. “You have to be brave, Nellie. I’ve got you,” it’s a rough sound, the promise aggressive, because I know what I’m about to demand of her is going to be the hardest thing she’s ever experienced.

All eyes will be on us,her,it makes my teeth grit.

“Who, Billy, who’s they?” her words are low, quiet, lips brushing against mine with every word.

I think of our kiss, my tongue, her teeth, our blood. It feels heavy in my heart now.

All of this just feels wrong even though it is the only way.

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