The Bone Reaper

Prologue

Logan

Past

T he sound of snapping bones and my little sister’s bellowing screams echo through my head, turning my stomach sour. The urge to cover my ears, to block out the sound, overwhelms me, but with my wrists bound, it’s useless. Just as I am useless. Still, I try to fight against the restraints, lying on the dirty factory floor as one of the men stands over me, making sure I don't intervene again. They don’t bother with masks, which means they don’t care that we’ve seen their faces. That can only mean one thing—we’re not making it out of here alive.

“Please! Oh god, please stop! Leave her alone!” my father shouts at the men.

“You betray the boss; you pay in blood.”

“Take me! Kill me! Just let my children go, please!”

“Your time will come. Your blood will soak these floors along with theirs.”

“No!” my father cries out, his painful voice sending soul-shattering fear through me.

All three men have guns. I wish they chose a bullet for my sister, a quicker death than what’s being done to her now.

My heart breaks for her.

I couldn’t protect her.

I can't save her.

More screams fill the abandoned factory, and Cece cries out for me.

She doesn’t call out for our father but for me , and what’s left of my heart shatters into a million pieces, as a guttural sob bursts from me.

Then, silence falls.

I don't dare look again, but I know my sister is gone. They killed her. My beautiful, precious little sister is gone.

I’ll never again hear her small voice begging me to play, asking for a bedtime story, or hear her sweet laugh. I’ll never see her soft green eyes looking at me with love or hold her small hand in mine.

The pain I feel is unlike anything I've felt in my seventeen years—worse than losing my mother five years ago. I can't stop my tears from drowning me in hopelessness as I hang my head in defeat.

This is all my father’s fault! James Arison let this happen. Cece’s death is on him and mine will be too. I know I'm next. They’ll save my father for last, forcing him to watch his children taken before him.

I hope they end me the same way they did Cece. I don't want an easy death. If she suffered, I want to suffer the same. I deserve it for not saving her.

“You pieces of fucking shit! You evil bastards! I'm gonna kill all of you!” my father yells, struggling in his seat to break free.

The metal chair topples to the side, sending my father crashing against the cement floor.

The men laugh. I've never had violent thoughts before, but the sudden imagery of driving a knife through their throats to end their laughter flashes through my mind.

“Bring him over,” the leader says to the bastard with a crooked nose standing over me. He drags me over to the man with a jagged scar across his cheek that just about reaches his left eye. Scar Face kicks me over to where my father lies on his side, still tied to the chair. He yanks my hair, and I’m pulled face-to-face with my father. His bloodshot, tear-streaked eyes meet mine.

“I'm so sorry, Logan. I'm so sorry. I love you.”

I say nothing; I just study the face of a broken man.

“Say goodbye to your boy.” Scar Face sneers at my father, still holding onto my hair. Then he pulls out a blade and slices it across my neck.

I reach for my neck with my bound hands, feeling blood pour through my fingers as I stare at my father. His eyes shut, refusing to watch me bleed out.

The last sounds I hear are my father’s cries and screams as he’s tortured to death. Then the world fades to black as I die.

At least, I thought I died.