Page 51 of Judas

“I killed him, Sadie. I just told you I went in for multiple homicide, don’t act stupid. It’s really unbecoming of you. Now eat.”

My mouth snaps shut and I scowl at him. I need more answers, why did he keep me from my mom? If he is who he says he is, doesn’t he want all three of us together? Why wouldn’t he stay in Michigan where she is so when she gets out we can—no.

“You plan on killing her too, don’t you.” It’s not a question, I already know. Rage builds inside of me as I wait for his confirmation. The unhinged maniac in my head starts to pounce around, scream, and howl for her release. Gearing up for an inevitable war.

“Not at all. You’re going to kill her.”

Chapter nineteen

Judas

It has been so long since I’ve chased, and Sadie feeds the monsters inside of me nearly every chance she gets. After I told her that she would be killing Nadia, she became rigid and went quiet on me. I saw her hands tremble, and though they were drained of color and warmth, they were lively. Don’t get me started on how amused I was when she finally sat down and grabbed the food. I like seeing people eat; fills me with so much excitement to know that they may not be finished digesting before they’re lifeless.

Not Sadie—we still have some time left together before I let that happen. I wonder what she would like to have for her last meal, though. She looks like she may enjoy some gumbo or something exotic to the northern palette. That idea was short-lived as she bit into the meat I prepared for her. When she asked what it was, her mouth so full her cheeks were swollen, she catapulted backward and knocked herself off the barstool rightafter I told her she was eating rat. Throwing the cooked meat as she fell back, just before the loud crash.

What a waste.

I didn’t bother helping her up, simply reached for the discarded portion of a la rattus and made sure its sacrifice wasn’t for nothing. Poor thing stalked off after that, right to the room I deposited her in after her psychotic episode.

Now, we’re running. I turn around, the girl is fighting me. I look the other direction, she’s running. I sigh, she runs her mouth. She’s so much like both of her parents it’s exhausting, but I want the part of her she fights against. The predator I can see lingering in her eyes when she’s actually calm, which is very few and far between. We have been camped out in the cabin for a few days now—it’s been nice, to say the least. But right now, I’m ready to break every rib in her chest cavity and squeeze her until the sharp ends rip into the soft tissues of her lungs. If it’s not one thing, it’s another, and today I’m about to beat her into a type of submission she will never come back from.

Hearing her feet trampling through the downed leaves, I close in on her. She doesn’t even scream for help like other people. There’s something so off, so damaged with her, that she refuses to call for assistance. Hell, Sadie even hid from the Rangers when we arrived, which is counterintuitive. My legs, especially my knees, are no longer made for this sort of running. Every time I step down, a pain shoots up my thigh and into my hips. Yet there is no way I’m letting her get out of here without dragging her through absolute hell.

How did we get here, you ask?

I stepped out the back door and was taking a piss when I heard her feet shuffling from her room and toward the front. Guy can’t even use the restroom without his ward trying to escape. Nearly trapping my penis up in the zipper of my jeans, trying to get tucked away so I could hunt her.

Sadie was down the stairs and by the car when I rushed out onto the front porch. As much as the rickety stairs made me second-guess everything, I knew she’d die in the forest and get eaten by something less glamorous if I didn’t trail after her. I do have to hand it to her, though; she saw her opportunity and took it. Ill-prepared with her bare feet, however. I’m sure the sticks and other debris along the forest floor don’t feel too good digging into the soft tissues of her soles. I understand not wanting to stay captive, but come on, be intelligent.

The mobility in my legs and, let’s face it, my hips are keeping me from catching up to her as quickly as I need to. Just when I thought I'd been able to cut her off, she has zigged my zag and is frustrating the darker one inside of my head. He’s cussing up a storm, telling me what to do, where to go, and steadily screaming after Sadie. It’s like he’s more concerned with her than I am now—guess that’s a good thing. If I get more of my demons on board, then maybe we can get things done this go-around. Not have a fuck up like we did with Darkwater which led that sister of mine to produce this infuriating, yet highly interesting, child.

Unable to deal with the pain in my knees, I slow down and start looking between the trees and brush that crowd a chunk of the underscrub. It’s noon-ish, if I have to guess; the sun is beaming through the thick canopy as much as it can—even less sun actually makes it to the bottom by the time it meets branches and more foliage. It’s enough to see pretty far and fuck me, she’s got to be hiding. She’s not in any line of sight and it’s all open through here, except for what sounds like crashing water off to my right.

Bent over, my fingers dig roughly into the backs of my knees, trying to reach the gooey bits behind them. There’s no use rubbing the joints themselves since they’re made of metal, just the muscles and ligaments that are aching. I know I’ve said itbefore, but I will say it again—I should have worked out while in prison. Probably would have helped in seeking out the shrew who has escaped me for the moment. Fighting her is one thing, especially with whatever voice is in her head that turns her into a MMA fighter, but running after her is another story.

When the pain has dulled enough to keep walking, without gimping along like a peg-leg, I head towards the sloshing water I keep hearing. Not having running water in the cabin is frustrating. No baths, no drinking water, nothing to flush with. I’ve had to drain my bladder off the back porch since we got here. Can only imagine the discomfort Sadie is going through. I wouldn’t put it past her to pee in a cup and fling it on me at this point. Anything to keep me away from her and to find a window of opportunity.

Following the sound of the water, knees still aching but less so, I maneuver over a few downed tree trunks and around some rather large rocks before the embankment comes into view. The waters are crystal clear from where I am standing. I can see pretty far out and what I assume is all the way down to the bottom. Multicolored rocks and pebbles line the lake floor like big city lights—sparkling, vibrant, and not at all what I want to see at the bottom.

Forgoing my hunt for Sadie, I make my way down to the shoreline. The sound of the crashing water gets louder but not overpowering like those on the Great Lakes. No, this is soothing and serene. Must be God’s way of trying to calm me—fat chance. Wading a few inches out into the water, the cold liquid soaks into my shoes as if they’re made of tulle and not leather, frigid against my feet. Takes me a moment to get used to the temperature, but once I do, I crouch down and scoop water up into my hands and bring it to my mouth.

Holy hell, that’s some good shit.

Again, and again, my hands bring more water to my mouth. Quenching a thirst that has lingered for days, albeit not the one I typically have to struggle to fulfill. The girl, when she was looking at my scars and asking about them, there was no mistaking the disapproval in her stare. Could always be worse, right? There’s always the possibility of my body disgusting her, but I have a feeling that’s not quite the case.

“I don’t cut,”she had said with a judgemental lilt.

Nope, but you have an outlet somewhere, Sadie. I’m sure of it. We all do; even the less depraved and damaged have a vice that lets them feel without guilt. Just wondering what yours is.

Taking another drink, a snap sounds behind me and I whip around. There she is, all dirty and wrinkled clothes, messy hair that needs to be shampooed, filth covered feet, and wild eyes.

“Y… found water,” she murmurs, racing towards me.

How in the world she can keep running is beyond me.

I stand and watch as she gets closer, waiting to see which side of her is about to take me down this time. Between you and I, she kicks my ass sometimes, but I won’t tell her. Doesn’t seem like she has any fucking clue what happens to her body when something else takes her for a joy ride.

Like a child, she splashes into the water and drops down. Thirsty as ever, she doesn’t bring the water up to her mouth, all civilized and what not. No—instead she leans over and puts her mouth just at the water's crest and draws it in, slurping it up.

---