Page 106 of Grave Possession

There’s a dilemma warring on his handsome face, and before I can ask what it is, his deep voice is slicing through the tension. “I know.”

“Know what?” I ask.

“That you killed those three men.”

“I know,” I respond. He looks at me, mildly befuddled. “You danced around it enough, I knew you’d put all the pieces together eventually, if you hadn’t already.”

“Then why hide it from me?”

“Just because you knew didn’t mean I was ready for you to know. I had a lot of soul searching to do, coming to terms with myself was…harder than expected.”

“And you’re ready now? For me to see this side of you?”

“Honestly, not really. But I know I don’t want to push you away anymore. I just hope you don’t see what I did and abandon ship.”

“Well, that’s ominous as fuck.”

I shrug. He’s not wrong. That man is missing a leg, his brain, and his dick. I’ll be thoroughly surprised if Nox doesn’t lose his dinner.

He crosses the hallway to me, cupping my cheek andraising my ashamed eyes to his. “No matter what, I’m yours. Nothing you show me will make me run.” I smile up at him, then he kisses me quickly before turning and striding toward our bedroom.

A short time later, Nox is leading us through the woods back to the Haunt. He looks like he did the first night I saw him. A black hoodie, jeans, and boots cover his mountainous body, and his face is concealed behind the mask.

The music has quieted, and people are slowly filing out of the mill for the night. We move unhurriedly through the bush, trying to remain unseen by the attendees and Lennox’s squad, which was in full attendance. Even the two new recruits, who were stationed at the gate checking tickets.

My mind wanders as I follow closely behind him, our fingers woven together, letting him lead me through the forest as I recount his earlier confessions. Guilt wraps tightly around my soul, pulling my mind to a dark place. Nox has killed to protect me. I could argue I’ve done the same. That my kills have been in self-preservation or self-defence, and they were. However, deep down, I wanted to end those people’s lives. I like the power and control I get from it, the fucked up way it inflates my self-confidence. From a young age, I never felt safe, worthy, or strong. I never had the right to choose anything for myself. What I ate, how I dressed, and how I spent my time was all decided for me, and I detested it. Stripped of all free will and abused for as long as I can remember rooted a dark seed deep within me. Every hidden bruise, broken bone, and deprivedchoice fed the sprout of evil in my soul. Long nights alone and hungry were the roots growing strong in my psyche. Every tear I cried watered this bud until it became an independent being, living and breathing within me.

I can’t pinpoint when exactly I smothered that part of myself, but I know as a child, I was too cowardly to fight back. By the time I was an adult, I’d become so beaten down. I feared if I did fight back it would be pointless. I’d have rather ended my own life than given Dennis the satisfaction, but something always held me back. I thought it was my cowardice, but it wasn’t. It was her. That part of me that was struggling, begging for me to choose myself and live.

I’d like to think if I could do it all again, I’d change my actions, but it’s the past, and it doesn’t really matter. What’s important is the life I’m living now, and that I make the most of it with the man pledging to stand by my side no matter what I throw at him.

“Nox,” I say, barely above a whisper. Planting my boots in the underbrush, I stop our advancement, and he turns to look at me. It’s dark out here, the lights from the Haunt barely penetrating through the foliage.

“What is it, gorgeous? Do you want to go back home?”

“No.” I pull him close, turning us face to face. Taking his other hand in my free one, the contact provides me with some false sense of security. I wouldn’t have a chance in hell at keeping him here with me if he really wanted to run after what I’m about to say.

“Are you okay?” Concern is heavy in his voice, and ittakes everything in me not to break down and sob from the weight of this.

“I killed that girl,” I whisper.

Ghost sucks in a shocked breath, his body an unmoving statue before me.

“I didn’t lie when I said Johnson brought her to the cellar after hitting her with his car. But he didn’t carve her up and make me watch. He gave me the knife and let me do whatever sick shit I wanted. Part of me was worried what would happen to me if I didn’t participate in his fantasy, but another side of me wanted to let loose every evil thought that’s ever gone through my head.”

Knowing what he’s about to walk up on, this can only prepare him for the worst piece of who I am.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“What do you mean?” My heart feels like it’s been thrown in a blender, the blades slicing through any hope I had that we’d make it through this together.

“Do you think solidifying my theory will scare me away? That showing me the most heinous parts of you will make me tuck tail and run? It won’t.”

His theory… “Wait… you knew? This whole time?”

“No, not until you confirmed it was you who killed those men. One was autopsied like the Jane Doe from the cellar. Then I saw you completely drenched running home from the Haunt. It all just clicked. You like to make a mess, baby. Johnson didn’t.”

“Why didn’t you call me on it?”

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