Page 144 of Phobia
I had met his sister once, and if the Devil had a face, it would wear hers. I had never met someone so… I had no words to describe it. Evil, maybe? Her smile and pretty face couldn’t hide the rotten soul hiding behind it. And people called Danika and me crazy.
There was something weird going on in that family, but the more I thought about it, the less I cared.
Gabriel continued talking about something, but I tuned him and everyone else out. Judah, Gabriel, neither one of them would stand in my path.
Tonight was the night, when the saints hid, letting the people like me roam freely over these streets, through this forest, chasing and taking whatever we needed. Tonight was the night when she would finally become mine.
As I ran outside of the house through the back entrance, I knew where she went.
My eyes focused on the tall trees surrounding the little maze just behind the house, and the lone figure standing in front of it, blending with the darkness of the night.
“There you are,” I murmured, taking a step down the stairs, and then another one as she disappeared inside the maze. “You’re mine now.” I smirked and sprinted toward it, where she waited for me.
Chapter 10
Something sinister lived in Winworth and it had a name—Lazarus Morass.
My little nightmare.
My biggest dream.
When I left my childhood home, taking all the cash my mother had in her drawers, I thought I would come straight here, to his house, to him. But I couldn’t.
My mind was split in two, my heart crying for the man who helped me remember, who helped me understand in one simple hour who I was, yet I couldn’t go to him and be with him in the way he wanted me to be.
My fingers itched for something new.
My feet yearned for a new town, a new experience, fresh blood.
My body needed to be my own again. My mind had to be what it used to be prior to that accident and prior to all the drugs my mother fed me. I wanted to stay and watch her reaction once she got home and saw my message, but I decided against it.
It was enough torture for her to know that I remembered everything. That there was nothing she could lie to me about anymore.
She thought I was a sick child, but she was just a mother who wasn’t ready for me. Hell, I didn’t think that she ever should’ve become a mother, but who was I to say that? I never wanted to have kids. Not because I wouldn’t be a good mother, but because I would hate to bring them into a world that hated everyone who was different.
We weren’t good for them because our minds worked differently. Because our souls cried for something opposed to what they liked. They wanted to fit us into the mold, but all we wanted was to be free, to do whatever the fuck we wanted to do.
I wanted their screams.
Their tears.
I wanted to hear them beg as my knife sliced over their veins, praying to their invisible God, thinking he could save them. But they had no idea that God didn’t live here anymore. God would never step inside Winworth, inside this hell on earth, where the Blackwood family pulled strings and everyone else was just their puppet.
I watched them, these fucking bastards, as they went to their little catacombs, doing God knows what in the middle of the night, leaving screams behind and ashen faces of those who joined. I watched them as they gathered more and more people, pulling in almost the entire population of Winworth.
I held the knife that was strapped to my thigh right now. Many of those nights, I sat behind the bushes next to City Hall, watching as they all went to the basement area behind the building, wishing for one of them to find me.
My feet hurried deeper into the maze as memory after memory smashed through my skull, giving me all the necessary information.
Winworth had an Order, and the founding families ran it. I just had to figure out what they did inside of those catacombs, and what their plans were. I had no doubt that something wicked ran underneath this town, and the people of Winworth had no idea.
Fear not the monster that showed its true face. Fear the monster that showed only its smile, fooling you into thinking that it was just a normal man.
Fallen branches broke underneath my feet as I went deeper and deeper into the maze, my heart thundering at the mere thought of getting caught.
I liked to think I was more of a predator than a prey, but with Lazarus, I wanted to be caught. I wanted him to catch me, to show me everything I was missing, to teach me his ways.
I couldn’t erase the image of a young Lazarus in my head, and the way his hair shone underneath the moonlight. I couldn’t forget the blood dripping down his hand, or the dark aura around him when I stumbled upon that clearing, seeing him fully for the first time ever.
