Page 155 of Buried in Blood
He’s not wrong.
“I gave her everything,” I murmur, almost to myself. “Freedom. Power. Purpose. And she used it to rot us from the inside.”
I turn slowly, eyes locking on his.
“We were holy, Reese. She desecrated that.”
He swallows hard. “They didn’t know her.”
“They don’t need to know her to feel the consequences,” I snap. Then softer, “This isn’t punishment. It’s purification.”
His throat works as he swallows. “You sure this is the message you want to send?”
My eyes narrow. “You think I care about the message?”
Silence.
“I care about the weight,” I continue. “About the fear. About the silence that follows the scream. That’s what I want echoing through these halls tomorrow morning.”
I take a step forward, breathing steadily now. Controlled. Reverent.
“I don’t need their understanding. I need their obedience.”
I reach for the handle. Reese doesn’t move.
Good. He still knows who stands at the altar.
I nod once toward the door. “Bring them in.”
He hesitates.
Only for a second.
Then turns.
Two shadows shuffle behind the stained glass. Fragile outlines. Lost souls. But tonight, they’ll be something more. Something divine.
Sacrifices.
Reese holds the door for me, eyes avoiding mine.
I smile.
The sanctuary is cold. The floor is already marked. The blade rests on the altar. I walk in first, steps echoing like a hymn.
“Tonight,” I murmur, voice barely audible, “we wash away her sins.”
I don’t look back.
The doors shut behind me. And the chapel begins to breathe.
The candles flicker as I light them one by one, my fingers steady, reverent. Wax drips onto the stone altar like tears. The air is thick with smoke and old blood, though no one has bled yet tonight. Not yet.
I can feel them behind me. The girls. Their breathing is shallow, lungs fluttering like caged birds.
Good.
Fear is honest.
