Chapter 11 #2
“Besides, we both give her reason to be concerned, don’t we?” he said, sitting down in the dirt and opening his book.
We had been doing this every night for weeks. Leroy stole one of his mama’s spell books and we’d sit cross-legged, trying to make something happen. Well, technically Leroy did; I just watched and sat with him for moral support.
“You, sir, are the reason. I am just the lovable heathen you pulled into your shenanigans.”
Leroy chuckled before he went back to flicking through his book.
His entire family had magic, a strong line passed down by their ancestors.
But for Leroy, it was difficult. His mama—the close-minded, mean old woman that she was—said it was because he had other things on his mind that his ancestors wouldn’t approve of.
Personally, I thought he was just terrible at reciting Latin.
“Why do you insist on practicing these silly spells when clearly magic is not meant for you?” I groaned playfully, bored but happy to be with him.
Leroy winked at me. “To be able to put a love spell on you, of course.”
I felt my cheeks blush, dipping my head to avoid his knowing look.
It was always like that with us. A fleeting look, a brush of our fingers, a flirtatious word that the wind carried away.
We never quite managed to be at the right spot at the same time.
To have given into my feelings was to go against everything I had ever been taught, and I was not strong enough to do that.
For Leroy, his mother had certain expectations of him and his future, and also her own thoughts on fraternizing with someone of the same sex.
We sat there for hours, Leroy trying to conjure fire in his hand or make a twig snap with his words. I was just happy to be spending time with him, sharing my heart as much as I was able to.
The world would never accept two men together, so to embrace the moments we did have together was enough for us both. We would marry women chosen for us by our families, have our own babies and grow old, as was expected of us.
But it didn’t change our hearts and how we felt. If I could have been brave enough, I would have told him that my heart was his to take.
Midnight came and went, both Leroy and I laughing into the night. The only sounds heard were the owls hooting and the constant chirping of crickets. We jumped and leapt to our feet when we heard a crunch somewhere behind us. Nobody was ever in this area, especially not at night.
“Who’s there?” Leroy called out, grabbing a log like a bat.
I hit at his arm. “Soyez silencieux! You may as well light a fire and invite them over for dinner! Why would you alert them to where we are?”
Leroy rolled his eyes. “It could be one of my siblings. You know they like to mess with us.”
I narrowed my gaze at him. “Why would any one of your siblings follow us here in the middle of the night?”
Dawning spread across Leroy’s face and he sighed, running a hand over his hair.
There was another crunch behind us and we spun around, only to see a raccoon running through a brush of leaves. Leroy’s pretty eyes locked on mine and we burst into laughter at our theatrics.
That moment of laughter, with his amber eyes sparkling and his smile radiant, was the last time I saw Leroy as he was. It should have been the way I chose to remember him forever, but time was a cruel thing and warped memories into nightmares.
Something sped past us at an unnatural speed, the whoosh of it loud in our ears. Leroy and I spun around in circles, trying to see what manner of thing it was, but it was a mere blur to our human sight.
I could feel its presence as it ran around us again, before Leroy’s piercing scream filled the night. In the fraction of a second it took me to turn around, the thing had taken my best friend from me. I could hear him scream my name in terror and so I ran towards the sound, determined to save him.
There was an open clearing not far from where we were and the creature had dragged Leroy into the center of the grassy opening, like it wanted to be seen.
It looked like a man from where it stood looking over Leroy, but when it turned to face me, I cried out, calling it the only possible thing it could be. “DEMON!”
The thing hissed, turning back to Leroy. It knelt beside him and I heard as it bit into my friend’s neck, tearing at the flesh in the most monstrous way.
“I command you to go back to Hell, demon!” I bellowed, running towards them.
My older brother had given me a silver flask when I was accepted to study in the priesthood.
It was filled with Holy water that he, full of faith and love for God, had blessed himself.
He had told me that if I was ever in trouble or saw someone in need, I would have the Lord with me.
Seeing that demon tearing into Leroy was a nightmare that only the divine could stop.
I grabbed the flask from my shirt pocket and began to shake it as the creature hissed and made its way towards me.
When it got close enough for my aim to hit, it shrieked as the water touched it, sizzling and making welts on the pale skin.
It was enough time for me to turn and see Leroy the way my mind remembers him: his bright eyes lifeless and his throat torn out, blood pouring from him just like the night we met.
I screamed, an agonizing sound that made my throat ache, and dropped to my knees. I knew he was dead; I could not save him this time.
The creature took my moment of grief for its gain and pounced on me. It looked like a man still, but its eyes were an abnormal color and it had elongated teeth which were coated in Leroy’s blood. It was freakishly strong as I fought against its hold on me, calling out for anyone to help.
“There is nobody to save you, boy,” it hissed, cackling before biting into my throat.
My screams echoed around the entire clearing as unimaginable pain filled my body. I hit the thing, clawing at it with my nails. When nothing else worked, I closed my eyes and bit into its arm as hard as I could. I broke the skin and could feel blood drip into my mouth as the creature screamed.
I tried to use its confusion to my advantage and buck it off me, but it pulled back, furious, and smacked me across the face. I felt myself lose consciousness, my eyes drifting closed as I watched the creature lick its lips and disappear.
I awoke as the sun was rising across the clearing, shining through the tree lines. My head buzzed and I slowly pulled myself up in a daze, half thinking Leroy and I had fallen asleep. It wasn’t until I turned my head and saw the rigid corpse of my best friend that everything clicked into place.
Tears streamed down my cheeks as I went to him, throwing myself over his chest and whispering my apologies.
If only I had been stronger; if only I had been braver.
Perhaps if I had fought harder, he would have still been alive.
It was all my fault. Twice, I had witnessed Leroy slowly bleed out, and this time I had not saved him.
So much time had been wasted between us.
I could have given him more of me, a truth to make him happy, to embrace who we were.
Even if it was scary and would inevitably end, we could have loved each other for a short time.
Instead, I had cowered from who I was, how I felt, and allowed years of tutelage from sinful hypocrites to blind me to what could have been the best decision of my life.
Leroy had died without knowing that I cared for him, and I would never be able to make that better.
I wanted to cry out to God, to blame Him for what had happened, but I knew in my heart that the blame lay at my door.
I had been joking when I called myself a heathen to Leroy, but it wasn’t a lie.
I was a deviant, a sinner. I had strayed away from God, I had given myself over to desires and allowed myself to fraternize with witches.
But as I looked down at my best friend, it didn’t feel like a choice I had willingly made, but rather life had made for me.
“I am so sorry,” I whispered, both to God and to Leroy, my tears burning a path down my cheeks. “S'il te pla?t, pardonne-moi!”
Looking down at Leroy’s lifeless body, I realized that a life without him, my best friend who knew me like no other, was not worth living.
Without him, I was alone in a cruel, empty world and my heart would end up like that too.
I could not picture a future where I didn’t hear his laughter or see his smile.
It was a dark realization, but one that made my next decision with ease. If he was going to die, I would too. I would not live in a world without him and I wouldn’t allow him to leave me behind.
Reaching into his boot where I knew he kept his athame, I pulled it free and stared at the shining blade in the sunlight.
I lay next to him, running the sharp blade across my wrists.
I screamed at the pain initially, but numbness soon settled over me.
Wherever I ended up, at least I would not be alone.
“Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me,” I whispered with my last breath, quoting scripture even though I had paved the road to my own end.
Little did I know that I would be walking in the shadow of death for all of eternity.