CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
The metallic scent of blood poisoned the air, red droplets staining the collar of Nathaniel’s shirt as I clung onto him, air evading my lungs with every trembling inhale.
“He’s dead,” Nathaniel said in a detached tone, his arms stiffening around my waist.
Dead.
I glanced down at the fresh corpse, a river of blue veins cascading down his pale skin, a waterfall of blood pooling around him.
Dead.
“Police,” I choked out. “We…we should…call–call the police.”
Nathaniel’s expression shifted, wide eyes narrowing as he shook his head. “What? No. They’ll arrest you. Charge you with murder.”
It’s what you deserve.
“But I…” My voice trailed off, a numbing ache settling into every bone and muscle in my body. I swayed, blood drenched hands flickering across my vision, dancing in my mind—death, murder, blood.
I needed to sit down, needed to close my eyes, needed to fall asleep and never wake up.
“Augustus?”
Darkness welcomed me with open arms, Nathaniel’s voice dissolving into a soft hum, a lullaby coaxing me into sleep.
***
I awoke in a bed that wasn’t my own.
A news reporter detailed a recent flood on television, cars roared down the highway, a symphony of rhythmic chaos that lured me from my slumber.
I sat up, ran a hand through my sweat-drenched curls, head pounding as though I had been slammed over the head repeatedly. Blinking, I glanced down at my shirtless torso and–
Where the hell were my clothes?
Confusion. And then panic.
I stood, frantically searching for my clothes. All I found was a white bathrobe, wrapping it around my shivering body in seconds.
A door to my left creaked open. Nathaniel entered, an identical white robe around his slim frame, black hair dripping wet.
“You’re awake,” he breathed out, “how are you feeling?”
“I…what happened?”
“You fainted,” he sighed, shifting closer. “You hit your head pretty hard but I’ve had a look at it…should be okay with some rest.”
I nodded, relaxing at his touch. “Where are my clothes?”
“In the laundry room,” he answered, “they’ll be clean and dry soon.”
I chewed on my bottom lip as fragments of the night returned to me. A sharp blade. Blood. The wet, slippery sound of steel piercing through flesh. Blue veins and decaying skin.
My knees gave out and I collapsed onto the mattress, horror sending ice shards down my spine. “Oh my god.”
“What’s wrong?” Nathaniel frowned.
“I…I…how did we get out?”
“Out?”
“Of the house…after what I…”
“Of Joe’s house?”
I nodded, heart hammering in my chest like a wild animal desperate to escape an enclosure.
“We walked out the front door…”
“But the others…they would have seen…”
Nathaniel sat down beside me, hand clasping my knee gently. “Seen what?”
“The blood.”
“The blood?” Nathaniel repeated, alarmed. “What blood?”
I glanced sideways at him, tears blurring my vision. Why was he acting like he didn’t remember? He was right there. “Joe’s blood. I killed him.”
“Killed him?” Nathaniel repeated. “What are you talking about? You didn’t kill him. Joe’s fine. He let us go. Said your soul had been saved.”
“What are you talking about?!” I snapped, voice cracking. “You were right there! You saw it! You said he was dead!”
Confusion and fear crossed Nathaniel’s face as he studied me. “Augustus…that never happened. I promise you…you didn’t kill anybody.”
I glanced down at my hands. There was no blood, but I assumed Nathaniel had helped me clean it off.
“But the clothes…the blood…”
“There was no blood. You vomited a little as you passed out, that’s all.”
I stared at him, searching for the lie. I couldn’t find it. “That…wasn’t real? I really didn’t kill him?”
“You didn’t kill him,” he confirmed, reaching for my hand to clasp firmly. “I promise…you didn’t kill anybody.”
“It felt so real,” I whispered, peeling my hand from his grasp.
“Just a hallucination, perhaps?”
“I’m not crazy.”
“I never said you were.”
“But you think I’m hallucinating?”
“I’m just saying that is a potential explanation for what you experienced.”
Don't act surprised, Augustus. You've been questioning your sanity for a while.
“No, no, no,” I stood, pacing back and forth, fingers raking through my hair. “This can’t be happening.”
Nathaniel reached for my hands, but I flinched away from his touch. “Augustus…”
“Please just take me home. I need…I need to see Auden.”
***
I stumbled into the kitchen and flicked on the kettle, gaze drifting toward the clock that read 6:45am.
Auden's alarm was set for 7am on school days, but he usually showered and brushed his teeth thirty minutes before, slipping into his school uniform by the time the alarm screamed at him to wake up.
Pouring a hot chocolate for the both of us, I let my mind wander, replaying the memory of plunging a blade through Joe's heart.
Not real.
The Devil stood beside me, his eyeless sockets crawling with roaches that threatened to fall into my drink.
Tendrils of smoke danced around him, snakes slithering up his legs as his clawed hand reached for my teaspoon.
He stirred my drink wordlessly. I didn't realise why until I glanced down at my trembling hands, fingertips dripping with blood.
I told you not to go looking for her, he said, look what has become of you.
"I was already insane!" I snapped, rushing to the sink to wash away the blood stains. "I've seen you my whole life!"
Have you ever asked yourself why?
I fell silent, attention fixed on removing all evidence of blood, whether real or not.
The Devil watched on. There were no taunts. No laughter. It seemed the mirrored room had broken him just as much as it had broken me.
I waited ten minutes before venturing toward Auden’s room, concerned his absence meant he was unwell.
There was no response when I knocked on the door, so I entered without an invitation, frowning at the sight of Auden still asleep in bed, glasses untouched on his bedside table.
"Audie?" His eyelids fluttered open, but he made no move to sit up. "Are you feeling okay?"
He shook his head weakly, cheeks pale and forehead glistening with sweat. Frown deepening, I placed a hand on his forehead and cursed. He was burning up.
"I'll be right back," I promised him before hurrying out of the room to find some medication to fight the fever, snatching a wet towel to cool his forehead.
I remained with him until he showed signs of improvement, taking slow sips of water and small bites of fruit.
"Where were you?" he asked, voice raspy.
“I was…with a friend,” I answered.
“You were gone for days,” he said. “I thought you left me again.”
His words were a dagger to the heart—tearing through flesh until it embedded itself in my bones. I'd promised him I would never abandon him, and yet I had vanished without a word, leaving him all on his own.
You’re just like your mother.
“I’m sorry, Auden, I’m so sorry.”
"Why? Why did you leave?"
"It's…it's complicated," I breathed out, "but I never intended on leaving you. I was just trying to—"
"Please," Auden cut me off, "just tell me the truth."
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I raised a hand to tangle through his hair, caressing each strand away from his forehead. "I will," I lied, "but you need to get better first, okay?"
He coughed weakly before falling asleep in my arms, every cell in my body at war with each other as I fought between staying with Auden and figuring out what the hell was wrong with me.
***
Browning Books was empty when I arrived, with only Edith at the counter flicking through the weekly sale reports. She updated me on what was required for my shift before she left, handing me the keys to lock up.
For the first hour, I patrolled the shelves, using a cloth to wipe down dust whilst adjusting books that were out of place.
In that time, I had one customer—an old man looking for World War II non-fiction.
He bought two books and thanked me for my help.
Once he was gone, I called Auden to check on how he was, and in a weak voice, he told me he was feeling up to eating, so I ordered him some food from my phone and hoped he’d be well enough to answer the door.
The second hour went by slowly. Not one customer entered the store. I scrubbed down the counter, swept the floor, and organised Edith’s paperwork into neat piles.
During the third hour, the door opened and a figure in beige trousers and a short-sleeved white collared shirt tucked in, stepped inside. The aromatic scent of vanilla and citrus wafted through the air, and my shoulders dropped. It was Nathaniel.
Hands in his pockets, he pretended to scour the shelves while I stood behind the counter, our bodies only metres away while our hearts measured the distance of the Earth and stars. We hadn’t spoken since he’d dropped me back home. He’d texted me, of course, but I hadn’t responded.
Not a word was spoken as he walked up and down the aisles, his long fingers pulling books off the shelf only to return them minutes later as he browsed through row after row.
Are you just going to watch him like a creep?
I was surprised to hear the Devil’s voice. It was calm, lacking its usual bite. I had grown comfortable with his silence—comfortable with my own thoughts. I did not flinch, though. His presence was not unwelcome.
“Are you looking for anything in particular?” I asked once Nathaniel returned a third book onto the shelf.
“No,” he answered, slowly turning to face me, “I’m here for you.”
“Why?”
“I want to ask you a question. Just one. And I want you to be honest with me.”
“Okay.”
“Do you believe there is a demon inside of you?”
He knows. He knows. He knows.
“Excuse me?”
“Answer the question, Augustus. Do you believe there is a demon inside of you?”
No, no, no.
“Yes.”
I did not know what I expected from Nathaniel in that moment. Perhaps I expected him to gasp, scream, or flee from the store. But deep down, I knew he wouldn’t do that. What I hadn’t anticipated was for Nathaniel to lean back against the bookshelves comfortably, arms folded over his chest.