Shadowface

Chapter 37

CHAPTER

THIRTY-SEVEN

SUMMER

A lmost two full weeks have passed since Mikael fucked me in his office. Thirteen days of pretending it didn’t happen; thirteen days of cold icy silence from me as mid-October blends into the final days of the month.

Thirteen days since Mikael left me drenched with his cum clinging to my sanity, bringing out my raw emotions. Since then, I’ve kept myself busy and have clung to Dani for comfort, which has brought us closer again.

I spent my weekends staying in with Dani as much as I could, never straying alone. I lock my window and door at night and have even been sleeping with a knife under my mattress.

I have nowhere to run, and I’m hoping I can last out the semester because he hasn’t contacted me since we spoke on the phone nearly a week ago.

Tomorrow is supposed to be the day of the ReBirth Ceremony, where Mikael will ascend and become a Shadow. He will gain access to their power, their wealth, and money. He will keep this tradition—this ritual—this evil alive for the next generation with me as their golden sacrifice. If he can find me.

I’m hoping his silence means he’s moved on from this psychotic plan.

“How did you do on last week’s assignment?” Dani asks as we settle into psychology class. “Let me guess, Lincoln gave you an A?” She runs her hand down her loose braid and Misty comes to sit on the opposite side of her without looking at me.

This is how it is now. Misty and I ignore each other, leaving Dani in the middle. Misty obviously has a crush, and my confusing actions and hatred of her have driven a wedge between us. I’ve decided she can have him. He seems to like blondes, so she’s a perfect stand in. Maybe he’ll kill her instead.

“He gave me a C.”

Dani’s eyes widen. “Damn,” she whispers, and then shrugs. “I guess that’s not that bad?”

The last two assignments I’ve only received Cs. Not an F to get my attention, and certainly not an A. Just a C. He’s trying to send me a message.

Mediocrity. I don’t matter to him.

Dani still looks at me with worried eyes. She’s dropped her obsession with finding anything out about them, or at least hasn’t discussed it with me. She won’t talk about the kiss with Xander, either.

Mikael walks into the dark lecture hall without his glasses, his eyes locate mine, and he sits in his usual spot near the front. The intensity in his eyes tells me I’m wrong. He’s very much still fixated on me.

No one bats an eye at the fact it’s a different person walking by them. No one knows or cares that he’s killed or will kill again if left untethered.

My world, however, comes to a standstill as it always does when I see him. Lincoln admitted to me what Dr. Garcia made Mikael do. The prostitutes she brought in as a child to run tests on his sanity. He blacked out and killed every single one of them.

The girls in front of me watch his every move. He exudes confidence as he leans back in his seat like he owns the classroom, his black shirt wrapping around his lean muscles. I rip my eyes away from him as my face turns crimson, thinking about everything both minds did to me in that basement.

Dr. Garcia follows him with her gaze and smiles at him, giving no hint of whether she knows if her adopted son has changed.

She stands before us in this tainted lecture hall, looking every bit as intimidating as the first day of class. Her dark hair is pulled back, the sharp white streak shining from the lights above. She stands on the same stage that I am positive she burned fifty years earlier. She seems ageless as she spews her darkness, her theology of chaos. It’s embedded in every lecture, through the doctrine of research, through the lens of psychological principles.

Chaos. She’s an agent of chaos and evil.

And she uses this platform to serve her dark agenda and nothing else.

I can’t look at either of them, so I avert my gaze. But no matter where I look, he is there, consuming my thoughts, every moment of every day. And after spending my entire life utterly alone, knowing he’s always watching me makes me feel morbidly safe. Even though I am anything but safe.

I watch him now, watching me. He frequently watches me, without even pretending that I am not the center of his existence. I can sense the threats behind those gleaming eyes.

“It doesn’t look like he got the hint,” Dani says, watching him, too. “He keeps staring at you.”

A small sound dislodges from my throat.

She narrows her eyes. “Summer?”

“It’s fine,” I tell her as tears threaten my eyes. “It’s for the best. He’s faculty, and I’m a student. I broke it off with him, Dani, I promise.”

He can mute women by morphing the color of his eyes.

I’ve noticed his mind control seems less potent when we’re apart, weaker with the more distance I have from him. He can’t do much to me if I avoid him and stay locked in my room where he can’t access me.

Dani says, “Yeah, but you said you were in love with him. You can’t just turn that off.”

I turn to face her. Her brows are pinched together, and I know she’s worried about me. I know she suspects Lincoln’s involvement, and she’s right about all of it.

“I’ve known him for two months, Dani. It was an infatuation that came on strong and fast, and now it’s gone. He has a thesis deadline. He’s busy, I’m busy, and it’s not a good idea.” Which is why I suspect he hasn’t come to pay me a visit. I’m not the center of his obsession, even if I secretly want to be. He has goals, a career, a life. He must see that I threaten to derail all of that. “I don’t want to stay at this school. I’ve talked to my mom about transferring to a school on the West Coast.” Where thousands of corn fields will be in between me and this dark place.

If what he says is happening is true, then parts of Lincoln are still in there. He’s not the Mikael who used to visit me in my room, stealing my innocence and taking what he wants from me. He’s more sophisticated. More advanced, more controlled.

And that is more terrifying because I don’t know this version of him.

“Summer…I don’t want you to leave. I’ll be here by myself.”

I sigh because I don’t have a choice. In fact, I need to leave tonight—that would be the smart and sensible thing to do. It’s not like the Order prowls every inch of these woods. I could leave if I really wanted to.

If I really wanted to. I need to face him. This will never end if I don’t. And who’s to say he won’t follow me or come after my family if the rest of them think we are a threat to their money?

“I just don’t fit in here, Dani,” I tell her. “Plus, you have Misty.”

Dr. Garcia clips onto the stage as the lights dim and a large brooding shadow that smells like too much cologne slides in beside me. I nearly choke on it.

“Hey, Summer,” Grant says, and I turn to face him and give him the same weak smile I always give him.

“Hey,” I say dryly, hoping he’d find a new girl to sit with. He’s bounced around the last few weeks, but it seems I am his latest conquest.

He throws his arm around my neck, forcing me to lean into him. “I wanted to ask you something.”

Mikael faces us now, as if he could sense another man’s hands on me. His eyes penetrate me, and I can’t look away from him, either. The pull between us is too strong, and I remember his vivid threats—his promise of violence—the night of the rave when Grant’s hands were on every square inch of my body.

“What is it?” I ask him.

“I want to take you to dinner.”

I whip my head to him, and he’s staring at me so innocently. “What?”

“You know…dinner. A date.”

Dani nudges me. “I think you should go.”

The lights in the hall darken and his arm squeezes my shoulder, and goosebumps prickle my skin.

“Think about it, Summer,” he whispers. “I know a good Italian place in town.”

“Good afternoon, class.” Dr. Garcia’s shrill voice fills the room. “Welcome to mid-semester.” Hushed murmurs flow across the room.

“Why are the lights off?” Dani whispers from beside me.

“I have no idea,” I tell her, trying to put some distance between me and Grant.

Dani looks unimpressed, especially now that she knows Dr. Garcia’s connection to her father. “Ugh. This class is so creepy.”

I can’t argue with her about that.

This class may seem ordinary to others, but I am aware of the hidden secrets of the faculty and how they truly test their theories.

“We’ve talked a lot this semester about fear,” Dr. Garcia says, and a light finally shines down on her and only her. She looks unearthly and, for the first time, I don’t see her as this magnificent mind, but an old lady…one who bleeds just like the rest of us. She’s the only consistent thread through all of this.

“Halloween’s tomorrow,” she says, and my skin goes clammy. “A day where many want to believe in things that make no scientific sense. Ghosts, ghouls, goblins…monsters. But we don’t need to look that far to find the real monsters that should keep us up at night. Monsters that live among us. Today, I want to talk about psychopathy.”

She raises her eyes and again it’s like she looks right at me. “In your textbooks, you will find a framework that outlines a diagnostic tool for various mental health disorders. This is called the DSM-5-TR, an internationally accepted manual of common psychological disorders and their corresponding treatment. Each of you will choose one disorder and identify a person, fictional or real, that you think has this disorder.”

Someone yells, “What about that missing chick who was found in the woods and can’t talk? What kind of disorder is that?”

A few people laugh.

Dr. Garcia’s eyes shimmer with a knowing glint, almost as if she takes pride in Lincoln’s handiwork. “Ah, the essence of what I wish to delve into. What could have caused that girl to become mute? What kind of experience led her to lose her sanity? Consider using yourselves as the focal point for your assignment. After all, everyone harbors a hidden monster within. I expect it to be completed by Monday. Lincoln will assess them next week and, of course, is always available during office hours for further discussion.”

The lights in the room brighten. I swiftly reach for my phone and notice a waiting message. My heart tightens as I read its contents.

SF: It’s still me, Summer. I love you, pretty girl. See you tomorrow.

Like fuck…

When Mikael or Lincoln, or whoever it is, walks past, my lips open. His stare triggers memories of how he acted in the office. The sex I simultaneously loathed and loved, and at least until the ReBirth Ceremony date passes, I can’t let him touch me again.

I turn to face Grant as he gathers his things. “Hey Grant, wait!”

Grant turns and peers down at me, his soft curls hanging over his face. Aware of Mikael’s gaze, I tiptoe closer and kiss him. Grant places his hands on the small of my back, and despite everyone watching, he kisses me back.

He relaxes as I soften the kiss and grab the back of his neck. It’s a really fun way of saying, Fuck you, Mikael . Fuck you for destroying me. It’s a way of getting my control back.

Grant pulls away. “Damn, Summer,” he murmurs in my ear.

I’m a horrible woman.

I’m playing him, knowing I’ll awaken a beast, but it’s all I can do to protect myself.

I can’t leave town, they are watching me. Mikael owns me and he knows it. So now I just have to play my game. Mikael can’t come near me if I’m in the arms of a football player. He’ll have to find someone else to kill, so my plan is to date Grant the rest of the semester.

I grab his hand and interlace my fingers into his for good measure. “I’d love to go to dinner with you. How does tomorrow night sound?”

M y eyes shoot open.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

It’s nine PM—I slept for three hours when I got home from school at six.

I reach over and grab my laptop and fire it open, getting ready to do my readings and settle in for a long ass night. I’m not going to sleep, so I might as well continue with the pretense that I’ll be continuing my studies here the rest of the semester.

The night is a swirl of mist and fury as the wind kicks up outside and small intricate patterns form on my windowsill from the winter’s first frost. The window is locked, as is my bedroom door, and the other doors in the house. I’m alone in the house tonight, and there is someone who wants to slice me open and serve me to some dark, unknown god for dinner.

Psychopathy.

Fitting topic for today.

I pull my sweats down so I can stare at his mark. It’s long healed, the blister no longer an open wound. It’s a tiny half circle which will stay with me for life. My hand runs over it, and I think about all the nights I spent talking with Lincoln this semester.

Getting to know him, talking to him, having him explain the concepts in a way my brain understood. It guts me to think he’s gone…and I miss him so damn much.

I stare down at my computer at the blinking mouse, thinking about the monster that lives inside me. A throb hits my center. A warmth that spreads over my skin and heart.

Dr. Garcia wants her assignment; I’ll give her a fucking assignment. I’ll show her a psychopath when I walk into class on Monday, still breathing.

My plan is to stay in tonight and all day tomorrow and avoid Mikael’s calls. He can’t get in here unless I let him in, so theoretically, unless he breaks my window open or busts down my door, he can’t touch me.

It’s the only thing I can think to do to get out of this unscathed, and I plan on staying with Grant tomorrow.

Everyone is in on this. All the founding families that have lived here. And my father did, too, which means I am a member of the founding family. It’s my birthright and they shouldn’t be doing this to me. It’s against their code.

I read his text again and again.

SF: I’m still here, Summer. I love you, pretty girl.

I squeeze my hands so tight my nails dig into my skin.

Lincoln can’t love, and if he does love me, it also means he’s hurting, mourning the loss of his mother, dealing with the trauma he was exposed to as a child. The trauma Mikael never dealt with.

I’ve been reading more and more about his disorder to help me understand it. The fusion is the process of acceptance. The final step, which means Lincoln is reaching out and needs me.

He’s dealing with his trauma.

I rock back and forth in my bed, fighting swells of emotion that rolls through me. It would be so much easier to give him what he wants. Maybe there is a blissful eternity waiting for me. Then suddenly?—

Ping.

A new message pops on my phone, pulling me from my trance. I lean over and grab my phone, keeping my body curled up as I open the message.

Sf: Remember what I told you would happen if you let another man touch you?

My stomach roils and turns. I ignore his texts as I’ve been doing the past days and place my phone down as a swirl of wind hits from outside.

SF : Answer me, Summer…please.

I gasp for breath, desperate to reply. A sickness hits my stomach, knowing he wants me to.

It’s Mikael’s power over me, a constant presence in my life. Every time I’m away from him, I’m nauseous. This has haunted me since I was a teenager. The only time I get relief is when he’s inside me, touching me, or I’m doing exactly what he wants from me. He is the only cure for this disease inside me. That or…death.

Another message.

SF: Pretty girl is mine.

I narrow my brows at the sudden change in tone. Then they hit like a pinball machine. Out of control and one after the other. Chaotic and sporadic, like a child with a knife.

SF: I promised to kill pretty girl.

SF : Don’t run from me, pretty girl.

SF: It will only take a second. I’ll make it enjoyable.

That doesn’t sound like Lincoln or Mikael.

My breath catches, and my heart pumps a million miles an hour. He’s spiraling…

I rest my thumb over the message, wanting to respond. Silently begging him to stop, knowing this isn’t either of them speaking to me.

I don’t engage and then?—

SF: Come on, baby. Don’t make me chase you down tomorrow. You’ll wake him up, and if that happens, it will definitely hurt.

Awaken him. Now this sounds like Lincoln.

I pick up the phone and call Dani. If this is the last day I live, I need her to know what’s going on.

It rings and rings and rings. “Fuck,” I mutter, “please answer. Please.”

It goes straight to voicemail, so I chuck the phone across the room.

“ Fuck …” I scream and start pacing, then eventually curl up on my bed and bring my knees to my chest.

“I’m not ready to die,” I whisper to myself.

A notification hits my phone, and all the blood drains from my face as I stare at it on the floor. I get up and grab it and click on the notification as Grant’s face hits my screen.

Another news headline.

Shadowface rumors escalate as the tragic news of Kinsmen student, Grant Cooper, (19) was found in the forest near town. Authorities are quick to label it as an accidental death, stating he was eaten by animals. This is the first dead body found in the town since the tragic deaths of four people in 1979, and two weeks after Cali Hartman was found wandering the same woods, unable to speak about the circumstances regarding her mysterious disappearance. In 2002, four girls went missing on Kinsmen campus, their killer leaving mocking photos of their dead bodies in public places. Authorities are stating that the incidents are not related.

I hunch my shoulders. Grant’s smiling face appears in his Kinsmen football uniform. They didn’t show his dead body, which is decent of them.

“Mikael, what did you do?” I whisper, and tears stream down my face.

Emotion.

Remorse.

All the sentiments I should be having. Perhaps I’m not as destroyed as I thought I was.

The police are tying this one up with a bow. They went on record to say that Shadowface has not returned, and they will not tolerate hysteria in the town.

Investigation over.

They refuse to answer questions about any further rhetoric on the matter. After a few minutes, my phone buzzes, catching my attention.

“What now,” I mutter. I can’t take anything more tonight.

It’s from an anonymous number, so of course I swipe on it immediately, a hint of disappointment it’s not from him.

My heart jolts, then sinks.

A new photo emerges on my phone. A girl wearing solid underwear instead of lace. My tongue is thick in my mouth as I stare at her, wrapped up on a bed, her soft skin contrasting with the black sheets and dark duvet she’s on.

I recognize Lincoln’s bedroom immediately. The dark basement where he hides his true self from the rest of the world.

Mikael’s room now.

She’s wearing that hideous burlap mask. I blink a few times, trying to decipher what it is I’m actually looking at. The girl is wearing a basic black bra, her hands tied up behind her. Her hair is blonde, tousled over her shoulders. Her arm moves and my heart flutters even more.

It’s a video, I realize. The girl visibly moves, shifting her body. Rage coils in my belly. How fucking dare he?

My door bangs. “Summer, please let me in.”

I jolt, not realizing that Dani came home. Against my better judgment, I scramble to open the door I vowed not to open all night, inviting her in. Inviting Him in, too, as if my measly door would really do much to stop him.

Dani rushes in, her eyes red and puffy, wearing her coat. “Summer, are you seeing this? That fucker has Misty, and he’s live streaming her.”

I snap my focus to her, tilting my head as recognition hits me.

“That’s Misty, Summer,” she chokes out.

Burning bile hits my throat as my mind catches up with what I’m seeing. “How…how do you know it’s Misty?”

“The birthmark on her wrist. Haven’t you noticed it? And she’s missing. She never came to meet me and hasn’t come home. I’ve texted her a thousand times.” I now see the birthmark on her tied-up wrist. It looks like a crescent moon.

I’m too stunned to speak.

Dani sits on my bed. “He killed Grant, too. Shadowface is back, Summer.”

“What do we do?” I finally ask, daring to look at her.

“I’ve contacted the police, but they aren’t doing shit. I think they are in on this. He seems to target people who look like you.” Her eyes ripple as she beholds me. “But you knew that, didn’t you?”

If she only knew… I warned Misty to stay away from him; I told her Lincoln was mine. She didn’t listen and now she’s facing the consequences.

Dani stares at me curiously. “What’s going on, Summer?”

I glare at her. “The fuck if I know. I’m here, in my room, studying.”

“Sure. Grant gets killed, then Misty goes missing, and I’m supposed to believe you don’t know anything ?”

She runs her hand through her braid. “The police think it’s a prank. It’s not the first-time people have messed around and sent fucked up photos and videos over the years, unfortunately. Whoever this Shadowface is, he’s broadcasting this video to our entire class.”

Dani lets out a gasp as Mikael comes into view on the live stream. His masked head is tilted, his movement confident and precise. His skin is completely covered, wearing a tight black T-shirt and pants that show off his toned physique.

Nothing like Lincoln—this is all Mikael.

Misty squirms and her tits rise and fall, and a burning sensation overwhelms my body. My heart rate spikes as he looks directly into the camera, directly at me, and waves. The same way he waved at the rave. He’s talking to me, as if saying, Hi, pretty girl.

“What a fucking freak,” Dani whispers, keeping her gaze locked on her phone.

Mikael walks over to Misty, hovers over the edge of the bed, and runs his hands over her leg. She has a blindfold over her mask, so she jolts at his touch. Then he runs his fingers over the skin showing on her neck.

I don’t move my eyes off him as he nudges Misty up, so she’s on her knees. His hands are so soft, and she moves gracefully with him, almost as if putting on a show for the camera.

Dani is watching me carefully, as if studying my reaction. “Are you okay, Summer?”

“Yeah…” I barely speak as the video suddenly cuts out, and the screen goes black. I throw my phone down on the bed.

She shifts beside me as I stare blankly at the wall. “What are you thinking right now?”

Tears sting the back of my eyes. “I’m thinking how happy I am that’s not me,” I lie.

Her brows crinkle. “Do you know who has her?” she asks softly. “Is it one of them? Is it Lincoln?”

The dull ache hits my stomach.

Yes. Yes. Yes. I know who has her.

“No,” I whisper. The dull ache transforms into a pleasant warmth. Lying is comforting. She doesn’t believe me, but she looks too defeated to say anything about it.

“I wish there was something we could do,” Dani says, her eyes now bloodshot.

“She doesn’t look injured,” I mutter. “Or frightened, for that matter. It seemed like she was actually enjoying it.” I am well aware of how skilled Mikael is with his hands. He’s treating her like royalty.

Dani shifts uncomfortably. “Get up. We’re going to the kitchen.”

I groan. “Dani, I’m tired. I don’t have time to watch other people’s sex videos online.”

“I’m sure if you explain to our TA that our roommate was kidnapped by a masked lunatic, he’ll give you an extension. Now, get up. I don’t want to be alone right now.”

She pulls my hands and forces me up, and we head downstairs. An hour passes, then another. The guilt eats me alive the entire time.

Grant is dead because of me, and Misty’s next.

Dani pours me a glass of wine, which is the last thing I want, but the glass disappears quickly, and I pour myself another. By two AM, I’m finally calm enough to go to sleep.

Message received loud and clear, Shadowface.