Page 96 of These Monstrous Deeds

Sir puts him on his feet. He takes Carter’s face in his hands. The smile he offers Carter is so damn soft. Genuine. Loving. He runs a thumb along the curve of Carter’s cheek, eyes looking at Carter like he’s never seen something so beautiful. “Stay with me, sweetheart. Please. Don’t think about him. Be mine. Just mine. All mine.”

Carter opens his mouth to argue, to beg, but sir is no longer in front of him. He whips around, heart pounding as he prays the man didn’t leave him too.

He finds sir standing over Casey. He has his arm outstretched, a closed fist hovering in the air above Casey’s body. When Carter takes a step towards them, sir lifts his head. He grins at Carter. Then he opens his hand and pours daffodil petals over Casey’s body. They cover him completely, filling his mouth, choking him, burying him alive.

“Casey!”

Carter dives for his friend, needing to help him, needing to fucking save him, but sir grabs him around the waist and keeps him out of reach. Carter keeps reaching, keeps trying, but every time he pulls back his hands, they’re covered in blood-stained daffodils. “Sir, help him, please!”

He looks at sir as he begs, but sir just stares at Casey in boredom. When Carter looks back, he sees that Casey isn’t alone anymore. Elliot is there now. He’s kneeling beside Casey in the grass, his own body a rainbow of pain. His eyes are dead, his expression blank.

Elliot looks up at Carter, his voice monotone as he says, “He’ll be okay.”

“No!” Carter screams. “He’s dying, Elliot. Help him. He’s fucking dying!”

“It’ll be okay.”

“Elliot!”

“It’ll be okay,” the boy says again. Then he grins, a wicked, twisted thing that looks wrong and foreign among the dead features of his body. Daffodil petals begin pouring from his mouth. “It’ll be okay, it’ll be okay, it’ll be okay.”

“He’s dying!” Carter sobs. “They’re both dying!”

“It’s okay,” sir whispers, holding him close, rocking him back and forth. “It’s okay, now. You’re okay. I’m right here.”

“I’m so sorry!” Carter sobs.

He sobs in frustration. In grief. In guilt.

He sobs for Casey. For Elliot.

He screams for them. Begs for them.

For himself.

Carter blinks, and he’s no longer in the field of daffodils.

He’s with sir in the dungeon, tied down to something he can’t see, and he’s begging sir to stop, stop, please, god, stop.

Sir just swings the toy in his hand again, hitting Carter with it. A flogger. A flogger whose leather trusses have been replaced with razor sharp daffodils.

Oh god, they fucking hurt when they hit him. Each strike draws blood.

Carter shrieks. Sobs. Begs.

“You fucking asked for this,” sir reminds him. “You picked me over your own friends. You let those boys fucking die because you wanted this!”

“No!” Carter shakes his head rapidly. That’s not what he wanted. That’s not what he wanted. “Stop, please, stop!”

“Do you want to go back? Should I put you in the dark again?”

Carter just sobs.

Sir laughs.

He keeps beating Carter. He beats him over and over. He beats him until he’s bled everything out, his veins no longer pouring red liquid. Instead, Carter is bleeding daffodil petals.

Hazy with pain, Carter lolls his head to the side. His tear-filled eyes catch sight of a man behind sir. He’s standing a foot or so behind sir, but to the side, so his view isn’t disrupted. He’s wearing his high school football jersey and faded jeans, a worn-out blue baseball cap backwards on his head. When he sees Carter looking at him, he just lifts his chin in acknowledgement. His face remains impassive.

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