Page 86 of Buried in Blood
One shot through the mouth. Or the temple. Or his fucking heart, if he even has one. I’d press the barrel between his eyes and wait for him to beg.
He wouldn’t.
And I wouldn’t give a fuck.
The thought makes my skin crawl in the best way. Like power under my nails. Like blood under my tongue.
Isink to the floor and stare at the door. My wrists still sting from earlier—he gripped me too hard, or maybe I bruise easily. I don’t even know anymore.
But I know this:
I’m done waiting for someone to save me.
I’m done pretending I don’t know what I am.
I’ve survived too much to be broken now.
And if he thinks he’s going to sell me like a fucking product, he’s going to find out exactly what happens when a girl with nothing left decides she’s not going quietly.
He made a mistake.
He left me breathing.
And breathing?
Means planning.
Because the next time he opens that door…
I might be smiling.
But he’ll never see it coming.
26
Harmony
The cloak is heavier than it used to be.
It drapes over my shoulders like mourning, the fabric cold and damp from the stale air. Black, hooded, floor-length. It swallows my body, and I let it. Maybe if it devours me whole, I won’t have to be here at all.
I fasten the gold clasp at my throat with numb fingers. My hands are shaking. They always shake on ritual nights.
The fire hasn’t even been lit yet, but I can already smell the smoke. It clings to everything in this place. The robes. The stone walls. My hair.
I braid it back with trembling fingers, tighter than I need to, like maybe the tension will keep my thoughts from splintering.
It doesn’t.
The air is still. It feels wrong.
Somewhere outside, I hear the scrape of wood—probably the altar being dragged into position, even though it’s probably half a mile away. They always move it last. Always let it scrape loud enough that every girl in every locked room knows what’s coming. That’s the worst part.
Iam a girl locked in a room now. He moved me into the prison tonight, so that I would be close and ready.
This is the first sacrifice at The Golden Hollows. A chilling night in history.
Tonight, it’s someone new.
