Page 122 of Demonic Cage
“Another one?” I ask uncertainly.
Bengt nods eagerly. He takes out a large, simply wrapped rectangular object and places it in my hands. The package is heavy, and I slowly unwrap it. A golden book shines under the paper. A familiar feeling takes hold as I run my hand over the rough cover. I flip through the pages, knowing where to look.
The image of a beautiful woman glows on the old, yellowed page.
Her almond-shaped eyes meet mine, and my thoughts paint her iris a date color. Her lips move, whispering words that make me hear bells, then stones grinding, as if she’s speaking in multiple languages at once. But I understand everything.
“Memories are dangerous things, Lotte. Go too deep, and you’ll be lost in them forever!”
Where have I heard this before?
I slam the book shut and look around. My parents and Maya stare ahead, faded, as if the girl’s words had carved them into marble statues. I turn back to my mom and shake her shoulders.
“Mom! What are you giving me?”
She doesn’t answer. She just stares ahead silently – like my dad.
As if she’s dead, too.
No! I have to bring them back! They can’t leave me again!
A hand digs into my shoulder, and my knees buckle under its weight. I turn around.
Bengt is taller than me. The flesh has already peeled off his fingers, and with his skeletal arm, he holds me in place.
“This is what you did to them,” he hisses angrily.
I collapse in front of my brother. He takes a knee, digging his bony hand into my shoulder.
“Your selfishness sent me to the grave,” he says, and I hear my mother’s approving voice from behind me.
“I can’t look at you anymore. You killed my son.”
Every word is a stab in my chest.
“We don’t speak anymore because I know what you did,” Maya says, her voice echoing throughout the room.
“I can only talk to your sister. Not you anymore,” my father mumbles to himself, and by the end, I can’t tell whose voice it is.
“You went in there sick…”
“Selfish…”
“You took him when he was weak…”
I cover my ears.
“He died because of you…”
“You killed him…”
“He would still be alive if it weren’t for you…”
I dig my nails into the back of my neck.
“What if…”
“Without you, we could have saved him…”
