Page 158 of Buried in Blood

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Not dead.

Not yet.

That’s not the point.

The point is the process.

The point is the offering.

I press my palm to their blood and smear it across my chest.

Across the blade.

Across my face.

“Obedience is golden. Sin is cleansed,” I whisper.

Then louder, “Obedience is golden. Sin is cleansed.”

Then louder still—

“OBEDIENCE IS GOLDEN. SIN IS CLEANSED.”

My voice shatters against the stone.

My vision swims.

My body sways.

The world slows.

I hear something fall—maybe a candle. Maybe Reese. It doesn’t matter. Because in this moment… I am everything. And nothing. And she will feel this.

Wherever she is. Whatever hole she’s hiding in. She will feel this scream in her bones.

She will hear the blood. She will smell the smoke. And she will know—I am coming.

Not as a man. Not as a monster. But as a god with no heaven left to lose.

And when I find her…

Her sacrifice will make this look merciful.

44

Harmony

The gun is heavier than I thought it would be.

It rests in my lap like a secret I didn’t ask for. Cold. Heavy. Real.

I press my fingers against the grip. Not hard enough to pull—just enough to remember that I can.

The curtains are drawn tight. The lights are off. I sit cross-legged on the bed in total silence, eyes fixed on the door. It’s been over an hour since Reese left. Maybe more. Maybe less. Time doesn’t behave the same in this place. It stretches and coils like a predator in the shadows.

I stare at the lock.

One.

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