Chapter 44
CALISTA
I paint the concrete red.
Gurneys that were once clean now drip with bodily fluids and the kind of brain matter that doesn’t scrub away so easily. Ligaments and muscle are strewn throughout Andreas’s playroom, the human sacrifices worthy of even the pickiest Greek deity.
What was once the asylum night shift now lies in chunks, fleshy bits and bobs that decorate the spooky hospital setting with a new layer of gore.
The death of a dozen men doesn’t put a stumble in my step. Not a pang in my chest as I storm towards the second closet on the right, breaking the lock with the harsh twist of my knife.
A dozen men left bruises and aches all over my body, but not one could bring me to my knees. A woman who slaughters and drains the world of everything good in it, I am what my mother designed me to be.
A killer. A monster.
But neither of those titles could have prepared me for what was inside that closet.
“Oh, Devil.”
Fissures spread from the hollow parts of my chest, cracks splintering a mirror that was more fragile than it appeared.
Light quivers past the damaged exterior, a grainy spotlight that falls on the figure trembling in the corner. Sweat, blood and stomach bile smears the floor space between us, the stench of anxiety and lost dignity singeing the hair from my nostrils.
“You can come out now.” Softening my voice, I try to capture his attention, “The door is wide open, baby.”
He doesn’t move so I do.
Hard concrete bruises the pads of my knees as I lower myself to the ground, slowly crawling towards the man who once returned the favour. Wet pieces of dark hair fan out across Christopher’s arms, tatted muscles that are locked around his knees as he tries to erase himself from the world.
“Shh, it’s okay. I’m here now.”
Blood drips from my clothes onto the floor as I press my body to his, monster and man melding together as I try to give back some of the light I stole.
“Calista?”
Lost, broken eyes lift to find mine.
“That’s right, baby.”
He squeezes his eyes shut, sweat dripping from his forehead and down the side of his neck. I wipe it away gently, along with the snot trails and blood smears he’s left all over the place.
Red stains the tip of his fingernails, hunks of flesh trapped beneath the blunt surface. I lift his hand carefully and study the marks.
“Did you scratch yourself?”
When he doesn’t respond, I start looking him over, hunting for the exit wound. Dark stains plaster his t-shirt flush to his chest, the soggy material dripping with God knows what substance when I peel the collar back.
Devil, no.
The fissures turn into cracks that threaten to shatter beneath the weight of Christopher’s self-destruction.
Vicious gouges rip apart the mural that was once there, the tattoo of a bleeding wolf replaced with a real one.
Tissue hangs from each piece of flesh he stole, tears just waiting to turn into scars threatening to send me back over the edge.
My teeth sink into my bottom lip as I wrap my hands around what’s left of his neck. Claws that have dismembered countless men are now shaking, trembling as I try to put this one back together again.
“Christopher.”
Blood seeps out between my fingers, the harsh beat of his heart draining the very essence of my soul. I can feel his light disappearing, the flickering spark weakening beneath the damaged ink and scars bursting up through his skin.
Ugly and vulnerable for the whole world to see.
“You need to get up so I can take you home.”
“T-This isn’t my home.” His teeth shatter and slam together, “I want to go home.”
“I know, baby.” More blood leaks between my fingers, draining the last bit of warmth from my body, “And we’re going to make sure you get home. But right now, I need you to get up. You’re too heavy for me to carry.”
“No.” Blinking fast, his valiant attempts are fooled by the wet streaks streaming down his cheeks, “They won’t let me go.”
“Oh, they will. Do you know why?”
I wait for his eyes to meet mine. Dark, bottomless eyes that reflect an emptiness I know all too well.
“Because I’ll kill anyone who stands in our way. I’ll hunt down the men who did this. I’ll punish them for what they did to you. And I’ll...”
I’ll fight for you.
Swallowing hard, I look at the man with tears in his eyes.
“And I’ll take care of you. Just like you did with me, remember?”
Christopher looks away, his lips pressing into a miserable smile.
“We both know that’s not true.”
“Look at me.”
“Calista-
“I said, look at me.”
He chuckles softly, a sound so deprived of warmth it makes me want to kill somebody.
“You promised to keep me safe.” My breath falters as the words land on my tongue, “And you are not a man who breaks his promises, Christopher Deville.”
“I keep my promises.”
It’s a whisper that leaves a scar in the place of my heart.
“I know you do.” Wiping the snot trail away, I give him a painful smile, “And that’s why you need to walk out of here tonight. Head held high because you’re going to keep that promise.”
There isn’t an inch of protection in his eyes when he looks at me. Looks through me and manages to find something worth looking at.
“I don’t want to leave.”
“You have to.” A silent vow that gets sealed with the tears of a soul far too bright for this town, “I’m not going to give you a choice.”
Blunt fingernails laced with pain and suffering reach up and wrap around mine. Presses my dirty talons harder into his neck as though a monster could ever deserve to hold something so beautiful.
He keeps our hands laced together as he pulls them away from his wound. Let’s the lingering damage fall free as I help pull him to his feet.
“That’s my good boy.”
An endearment that shouldn’t mean anything beyond the bedroom, it sinks like a stone in my gut as I wrap his arm around my shoulders.
We stagger and fall trying to make it back to my car, but each time I pull him back up off the ground, forcing him to keep moving forward.
“Almost there, baby. Keep going.”
The night sky falls on us like a weighted blanket, dark and heavy and all encompassing. The only beam of light is the one trapped between my arms, a sliver of paradise that’s been lost tonight.
I carry him with everything I have. Shoulder-to-shoulder, forcing each step to happen so I don’t lose the freedom Christopher brings.
The spark of hope his presence installs.
He collapses into the passenger seat, head lolling to the side as his eyes fall closed again. I press a hand to his chest to make sure the air is still making its way inside, to ensure his scarred heart is beating with whatever is left of mine.
“I’ll make sure you get home, Devil.”
Words that are wasted on the unconscious, I squeeze my eyes shut and press my lips to his sweaty forehead.
No matter how much I’ll have wished you would have stayed.