Chapter 2
DELILAH
The sun is beginning to set as I make it out of the creepy forest full of dolls, following the narrow road running beside the forest. I’m not even going to try my luck with the other portion because the warning signs facing the road are more erratic.
Who the fuck would visit here without warning other people about all the strange shit? Or some idiot with a phone would have tried to make a video about it all, documenting the creepy forests, so it should be everywhere. Yet I still don’t know which continent I’m on.
My feet are raw as I walk along the edge of the forest, careful to stay on the mossy ground instead of the sandy tarmac while searching for anyone to help me.
I repeat Kane’s instructions with each step. “Noctem. Speak to someone called Niko, he’ll help me find my sisters.”
Ruby has to help me. She has to save me since it’s all her fault for leaving. Scarlet can fuck off if she tries to be a bitch.
The desolate island I’ve been stuck in for however many hours finally, fucking finally has proof of civilization as a row of houses comes into view. I can’t see Helene’s house. Hopefully she thinks I died. What the fuck has my life come where the best possible outcome is faking my death?
The forest comes to an end, forcing me onto the warmed tarmac, wincing with each step searing my raw skin, but the first house is ten steps in front of me.
I just need to knock on their door, beg them to let me use their phone and internet to search for the club Kane mentioned.
Noctem. That’s what it’s called. Someone called Niko will pass a message to my sisters.
There aren’t any streetlights or movement in any of the houses as the sun gets lower in the sky, fully covered by the trees.
It could be a small island. They have power cuts from storms, so I’ll be fine.
But as I hobble to the first door, peering through the mesh-covered windows, I can’t see anyone.
I hold the bottom of my elbow as I bring my hand up to knock, the sound echoing through the house.
It’s eerily still, like everyone has disappeared.
I knock again, harder this time as I call out, “Hello? I’m sorry, I don’t know if you speak English, but I don’t know where I am.”
No fucking answer.
So I drag myself to the next house.
Still no answer.
The next is the same.
Every fucking house is empty.
I’m too dehydrated to cry, so I can only make a pathetic sound as I rest my head on the last door. My fist is still raised as I beg, “Please. I’m not going to hurt anyone or steal anything. I just want to go home.”
Without the sun illuminating the island, I don’t know where it would be safe to hide. A weak laugh leaves me because I’m not afraid of any wild animal inhabiting this place or what made everyone disappear. It’s the people I’ve met I’m terrified of.
My parents, grandparents, and Helene.
Those five are worse than any creature who could attack me.
Animals will only act within their nature.
At worst, I’ll be eaten alive to give back to the cycle of nature.
However, with the people I know, I’ll be left with invisible wounds.
They’ll put me through the sound torture, the months of being strapped to a bed and drugged to an extent that I can’t even remember my own child.
All of that is premediated, calculated, fucking horrific. Death is, at least, an end.
I don’t have the energy to lie to myself anymore. Kane’s dead. I know he is. I know in those final moments I had my Kane back, who wouldn’t have left me alone. Not when he tried so hard to keep me safe from Helene, not when he promised to make everything better.
He’s dead.
I’m alive.
I don’t know where my baby is.
The last point is what I focus on. I can’t change the past or bring Kane back to life, but I can make sure my baby is safe, make everyone feel the pain they’ve put me through. Then and only then, will I be in a position to give up because I’ll have nothing to lose.
Soft cries haunt me, reaching through my memories with an accusation as I walk through the derelict streets. I battle them with a plea. “I won’t forget you again. I’m sorry, baby.”
My eyes close as I catch my breath beside a tall metal fence.
I can clearly see the baby in my memory as I hold one of the spokes running from the bottom bar to the top.
Light brown hair, rosy cheeks, and a pacifier.
They’re so beautiful, innocent. I have to press my knuckles to my chest as the memory of Helene coming into my hospital room plays.
I open my eyes, so I don’t have to relive her taking my baby away from me.
Stupid fucking bitch. The one murder I committed is not a justification for everything they’ve done when they started this game, which pre-exists me.
Killing Asher was spontaneous, killing everyone else is going to be thought out—maximum pain, maximum enjoyment.
Lights flicker in the distance, so I push myself against the metal bars, expecting the twisted cunts to be in front of me.
Following the soft orange glow, I stare at a house similar to Helene’s with the same stone walls, same gates, but everything is smaller.
There aren’t any spikes on top of the gate, nestled amongst the trees.
Creepy plastic doll eyes stare back at me, almost as if they’re glowing in the dark as I tilt my head to read the boards hanging from the thick branches.
Shadows cover the majority of the signs, but I can make out “ward” written in large green letters.
I look at the building again, noting the height, how wide it spreads.
My father’s ego always meant he needed someone to show off to when he was putting his toxic claim on new hospitals, so I look at the building for any resemblance to what I’ve seen before.
A hospital, like the old asylums in Europe he would purchase.
This has to be a hospital. They’ll have generators, bandages—things I’ll be able to use to clean the soles of my feet so I don’t get an infection. Scalpels to kill the cunts.
Making my way to the building, I stick to the fence as the eerie feeling intensifies.
I try not to focus on the dolls as I squeeze through the gap in the gate.
There aren’t any cars, abandoned ambulances, or signage, but I can’t hear anyone moving around the grounds as I walk to the back of the large building, peering through the windows I pass.
Everything inside is dark, apart from a low flickering light beside the front door. The furniture resembles a house. None of it is recognizable, so it can’t be Helene’s, as there’s no dead animals framed on the walls.
I slow down, making sure there’s no shadows of anyone inside before I begin testing the entry points.
It doesn’t take long for one of the windows to become loose from my jostling.
I wince as I slide it up, feeling the ache in my muscles.
It’s not any better when I climb over the thick stone ledge into the icy house, instantly greeted by hushed voices.
I’m in the furthest room from the people sitting in the room located beside the front door, but they’re not going to be very open to helping me after I’ve broken in.
I’m about to climb out to drag myself to the front door and knock when I recognize one of the voices.
“Melantha, I’ve worked for your family my entire life,” Anna tearfully whispers, the fucking traitor. “This is the only thing I have asked of you.”
“I understand, my child.”
I creep to the threshold on the tips of my toes to see who the bitch is talking to despite the strain in my legs.
The angle doesn’t allow me to see who it is as she kneels in front of a large, leather wingback armchair as the stupid fucking bitch washes feet with age spots and no elasticity in their skin.
An equally aged hand extends from the chair to stroke her hair back.
“You are the last of those who stayed with me, but I mustn’t interfere.
As you well know, Helene has power.” The hand stills.
“You do not have to hide from me, my dear.”
Anna freezes, turning her head to look directly at me. Tears line her lashes, falling as she closes her eyes. I’ve been caught, so I walk out, but she makes me freeze in disgust as she dips her head to kiss the nasty fucking foot in her hand. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
Each expression of her gratitude is bracketed with her lips moving in a curve over the top of the foot. That’s fucking revolting.
The hand on her head slowly slips back to rest within the confines of the armchair. “You may leave us.”
She lays a towel down on the floor before she walks backwards out of the room with the filthy water.
I straighten my chin, clenching my jaw to hide my pain as I walk into the lounge.
It’s warmer than the other parts of the house, but the woman in the armchair looks half dead.
Her eyes are fully white to match her hair, and the curved armrests of the chair have the same markings as Helene’s house.
It’s the same woman from Helene’s dinner.
“There is no reason to fear me, my dear.”
“Who are you?”
“The mother of everything you fear,” she says. She may as well call herself the angel of death too, because that’s what she looks like. “Some monsters are created, like your mother. Some are born, like Helene—my daughter.”
“You gave birth to that?”
“I did,” she admits, as though it’s not a crime against humanity. “She was always a special child, powerful beyond measure. She kept us hidden.”
“From what?” I inch closer, leaning against the wall to take some of the pressure off my feet as those pure white eyes fix on me like she’s still able to see without pupils.
“Were you enlightened with the tale of two faces?”
I vaguely remember Kane spouting some shit about it, but I was distracted by a fucking rat and insects surrounding me in a death-inspired glory hole. I can’t exactly tell this 900-year-old woman that, so I shake my head.
She grips the curved edges of the armchair with her rakish fingers, proudly explaining, “Our family—one which you are now part of—devised a plan many years ago. They would create and control the most lucrative business to ever exist. In part, it was due to their own proclivities, yearning for a world in which they would fit in.”
I lower down the wall to sit with my legs extended out in front of me like a child at a twisted, cryptic story time.
“They split themselves, as two worlds cannot merge when created to be the polar opposite of one another,” she says.
“A shadow self, their mirror image, would rule in one world while the other remained in this one. Two faces, one name, a defense against anyone who thought they could destroy what they created. Then, when Helene was growing within me, there was a terrible accident.”
She shakes her head, face pinching like she’s in pain as the wrinkled skin around her lips twists.
“A terrible, ungodly accident shattered the separation of the two worlds. Helene’s father was working within this world, as was his duty. In my years, I have never witnessed a torment befall us like that one. Helene’s father was the first to pass. Then her uncles.”
She takes in a shaky breath, and I don’t know what sorcery she’s done as I ask, “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” she breathes heavily, “my dear. Allow me to continue.” She holds up her hand, her fingers remaining stuck together like they’re stitched.
“Without the men in this world, the shadow selves revealed themselves. They came to our aid, assisted my sisters and I as we brought the next generation into power. Helene was born first, the first girl in generations.” She pauses before she snarls, “The first to be born without a shadow.”
“What’s a shadow?” I ask, dumb. “Like magic?”
“Oh, my dear, magic isn’t real. It’s what this world tells themselves when people find power.
It’s easier for them to digest fallacies of the supernatural than admit their darkest desires.
A shadow is an identical person who moves in time with them, created to follow everything they do like a reflection.
Both worlds have always existed, we just found a way to contain ours, to hide within the shadows because no one ever examines them deeply. ”
A twin.
Kane and Asher.
Lennox and Rowan.
“You see,” Melantha says, “although Helene was defective and unusable, she is more powerful than the others. When she became of age, she commanded everyone, took control of the Three.”
What the fuck is this story?
“Three families, each tasked with a special role to preserve the world we created.” She raises one boney finger.
“The Kobalts are in control of them all.” Another finger is added.
“One family angered the creator—they are now defunct.” She curls her finger down, raising a third.
“The Lerouxs had a special penchant for medicine. My sister always excelled at playing with the dead. It was her most joyous hobby.”
“My family?” I whisper. “But I’m not related to Kane.”
Fuck no. I better fucking not be. He’s my everything. Without him I wouldn’t have remembered my baby’s face.
“Your great-grandmother was first wed to Helene’s uncle. She was not my sister by blood, but by bond. As you know, an unmarried woman of age is a burden, one your family eased.”
“What was the business?” I’m going to regret opening my mouth because she smiles, prouder than she has been previously.
“Everything the darkness could wish for. Within this world, where every act finds its way to the light at one time or another, they require organs for donation. Whereas in the darkest parts of our collective worlds, there are people willing to pay any price to taste what is not easily come by.”
Organ trafficking. My father—who built his name as a renowned surgeon, opened hospitals around the world, praised for his philanthropy—is an organ trafficker for cannibals.
Melantha creakily stands, slowly walking over to me. She gently rests her hand on my head as she says, “Rest, my dear, while you can.”