Chapter 8
“Hell is empty and all the devils are here.”
—William Shakespeare
Ican't move. Can't speak. Can't breathe. The realization that this was all a lie, a trick, crashes down on me.
I’m so fucking stupid. I shouldn't have allowed myself so much hope.
It was too good to be true.
He leans against the doorframe, ethereal in the porch light's yellow glow. His features are exactly those from my dreams and from the brief glimpse I’d gotten of him as I faded from consciousness—high cheekbones, full lips curved in a half-smile, dark eyes that pierce straight into my soul.
But there's something different now that I hadn’t been able to see before.
There’s a sharpness, a terrifying sort of beauty radiating from him that’s not entirely human.
I had guessed that maybe he was different, but I never expected this. Horror seeps into my bones.
“You came,” he says, his voice low and smooth. “I wasn't entirely sure you would.” He casually twists a small, thin knife between his fingers.
The air feels too thin. No matter how many breaths I take, my lungs can’t seem to get enough oxygen.
Do I answer him? Do I try to run?
My eyes flit side-to-side, frantically searching for an escape even though I know there isn’t one. It’s an action born out of desperation rather than logic, but my mind is reeling with terror.
“There’s nowhere to go,” he says, noticing my panicked search. The only sound out here is the cacophonous scream of the crickets and cicadas and an owl hooting in the distance. No cars passing, no music from neighbors. Nothing.
“W-what are you?” I finally manage to stutter out in a hoarse whisper.
He chuckles. “Now that's refreshing. Most people start with 'who.’”He gestures toward the door. “Come in. It's getting dark.”
I stay frozen. “What do you want from me? I’ve been seeing you for months. I thought I was going crazy.”
He raises an eyebrow, and the corner of his lips lifts in a cold, amused smile. “I was in the city to kill a person or two, and you just happened to catch my attention.”
My stomach drops as another pang of fear bursts in my chest. He wasn’t there to help me, yet I had gambled everything on hoping he was. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
“Why would you want to kill me?”
The smile is gone from his expression, replaced by a calculating intensity, maybe even a bit of curiosity.
“I kill because taking a human’s life means adding to my own. It’s how I stay alive, but it’s certainly nothing personal.” He shrugs, as if that makes any of this better.
Nothing personal? Fuck that. This is my life we’re talking about. He gave me the first spark of hope I’ve had in years just to yank it away. That’s infinitely more painful than the fact that he wanted—wants—to kill me.
I would’ve rather died the first time than know that the small bit of optimism I’d allowed myself had all been a lie.
“So you’re, what, a demon?” I croak. The old man’s warning from earlier echoes in my mind. They say the devil lives in these woods.
He laughs, and I can immediately see how he’d so easily be able to lure people to him with his devilish good looks and mysterious charm. Even his voice and his laughter are alluring in that dark, dangerous sort of way.
I walked right into the trap he’d set for me, one he’s probably set for countless others.
“If that's what you want to call me. I’ve been called many things: angel, demon, revenant, vampire, incubus. Humans have a way of taking one thing and turning it into a dozen different myths with slight variations.” He moves, and the wooden porch creaks as he steps down a stair closer to me. I instinctively move backward.
“What are you really, then?”
“Many of us have adopted the term ‘Liminal beings,’ or ‘Liminals’ for short. We exist in the space between life and death, taking humans’ lives to add to our own,” he explains. “Immortal as long as we work for it.”
My mind races to process this impossible information while simultaneously acknowledging that my life is in immediate danger. I've escaped one monster only to deliver myself directly into the hands of another. I’m still not entirely convinced he’s not a demon with a prettier name.
“Why me?” I whisper. “Of all the people you could have chosen, why did you have to choose me?”
He cocks an eyebrow. “Why does it matter? You wanted to die anyway, didn’t you?” His gaze flickers to my bandaged forearms.
The question hits like a punch to the gut. I had almost forgotten that he's seen me at my lowest—bleeding out in a bathtub by my own hand.
“Because I'm curious,” I say, grasping at anything that might keep him talking. But night is falling, and the darkness seems to creep in through the thick woods around us. "Since you're going to kill me anyway, why not tell me?"
There’s that laugh again. Too enticing to be natural. “Where's the fun in telling you everything?”
Fury and despair flare through my fear as I realize I’m more angry at myself than anything. How fucking naive I’ve been.
“Please don't kill me.” It’s a pathetic plea, but it’s all I have left.
He smirks. He fucking smirks. “You wanted to die so badly only a few days ago. What’s changed?”
I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out. Honestly, it’s a good question, and I’m not sure what my answer is. Maybe it’s a fleeting moment of curiosity, maybe it’s some primal instinct wired into my brain that doesn’t want to die at the hands of a predator.
If I’m going to die, I’d rather do it myself than give a man the satisfaction of killing me.
I’m also away from Joel, something I never thought possible, and even though I have very little money, no place to live, and nothing other than the suitcase at my feet, I feel lost but liberated. Untethered.
At least, I did, until I saw him.
But in order to see where my life could go from here, I need to convince him to let me live.
I have no good argument, though. “Call it a new outlook on life,” I say.
“But it’s not like you can’t find any other human to kill.
I’m one in eight billion people on this earth right now.
You saw how miserable my life was. Please, just let me enjoy my freedom from him for a little bit longer. ”
My voice catches on a sob at my final plea, but I manage to keep the tears from falling.
He’s quiet for much too long before he says, “Perhaps we can arrange something… make a deal.”
“What kind of deal?” Warning sirens blare in my head as every book, myth, and short story I’ve read about making bargains with supernatural creatures comes to mind.
In all essence, this would be making a deal with the devil.
But what choice do I have? I have no way out of here, and even if I did, I couldn’t go back to Joel. I have no home anymore.
He crosses his arms and leans against the wooden post at the foot of the stairs as he stares me down. “To be determined. I’ll think about it and let you know. But for now, you’ll have to stay here.”
I blow out a slow breath, but the weight of my decision is heavy on my chest. “Fine.”
“Well, then.” He clasps his hands together. “It seems I have a new pet for now. Are you coming in or not?” He flashes me another one of those unsettling smiles, and satisfaction glints in his dark eyes. It’s the expression of pure evil disguised under a layer of aloof charm.
I’m not your fucking pet, I think, but I’m still shocked into stunned silence.
I pick up my suitcase and carry it up the stairs as I follow him in, though I keep a few steps of distance between us. A few hours ago, all I wanted was to be close to him. Now, I can’t get far enough away.
But I follow him anyway, because I have no other choice.
He closes the door behind me and twists the lock, though I’m not sure why he’d worry about anyone coming into his house with him being what he is. Or maybe it’s just another signal that I’m his captive, locked in his cabin and not allowed to leave.
After learning of his true nature, I’m surprised at how pleasant the interior of the cabin is. I’d half expected to walk into some dark, dusty lair, but the atmosphere feels more cozy than anything. At least, it would if I weren’t still distraught.
From the doorway, I’m only able to see part of the living room to my left and the kitchen to my right. Directly before me is a staircase.
“You can have the bedroom upstairs,” he says. “There’s a bathroom up there, and the kitchen is to your right. Help yourself.”
I follow him up a narrow, creaking staircase to a small bedroom with a window overlooking the darkened forest. All the fiery emotions that had been coursing through my veins only minutes ago have burned out, leaving me with a cold, sinking feeling in my gut and barely enough energy to walk across the room.
I drop my suitcase on the wood floor and stand there as the despair settles in.
“I’ll leave you to get settled,” he says, moving toward the door. "Oh, and Brielle?"
I look up at him with a blank expression.
“Don't try to leave. These woods aren't safe at night. If you try to run away, you’ll be wishing I had killed you instead.”
He closes the door behind him with a sharp finality, and I sink onto the edge of the bed with my face in my hands.
What have I done?
Sleep is impossible, even despite the heavy quilt and the exhaustion aching in my bones.
I lie awake for hours listening to the occasional creak of floorboards below, wondering if he's moving about or if it's just the old house settling.
Waiting for him to appear over me with an evil grin and a compulsion to kill.
The moon rises high enough to cast light through the window, casting long shadows and illuminating strange shapes in an unfamiliar room.
Sleep used to be my escape. I would close my eyes and wait for him to find me in my dreams where I could forget the pain of real life.
Now, I don’t even have that. Because it was all a lie.
I can’t stay here, but I can’t leave either. I can’t sleep, but I don’t want to be awake. It’s a lose-lose situation no matter what I do, and I can’t help but wish again that I hadn’t woken up in that hospital.
I should be gone, but reality seems insistent on dragging me back.