Stitches (Darkly Depraved Monsters #7)

1. Sera

1

SERA

T he eyes that open to the blinding light above do not belong to me. I suck in a breath, gagging the moment the fetid stench of sterilized medical equipment, putrid rot, and noxious mold slither through my senses. Where am I? The light above me dims slightly. A flurry of residual white dots cover my vision each time I blink.

“What a beauty you’ve become.”

My body tenses at the sound of a male voice. It’s nasally in pitch, grating against my ears. A figure glides through the darkness, landing near my head. The trembling in my body grows more pronounced at the sight of him. I flail, but whatever is wrapped across my body keeps me tightly pinned against the unforgiving surface beneath me. As I continue to writhe, I’m able to recognize the chilled feel of metal against the back of my body.

Heavy breathing draws my attention away from my own body and back to the voice nearby. Blinking rapidly, I manage to clear the fuzzy spots and regain the full use of my vision. The creature before me is not human.

An elongated saurian face houses no fewer than six bulbous eyes, two of which are currently hidden behind thick black goggles. The eyes shiver within their sockets, shifting ceaselessly back and forth. When he curls his lips, a nightmarish display of incongruous teeth is revealed. They vary in size, shape, and species, each one unevenly spaced where they’re crammed into his oozing, black gums. I thrash and jerk at my restraints.

“Come, now. Be good for me.” As he reaches forward, I notice that beneath the two humanoid arms that hover just above my face are two shriveled, smaller arms with pointed tips at the ends. I vomit, turning my head at the last second and spewing a gelatinous green liquid onto the stone floor below.

“I thought I was going to have to wait until they sent more girls down here. Each one of you was missing something or another. But I made do.”

My mouth is so dry that I’m forced to put all my energy into unsticking my tongue from the roof of my mouth. It peels back, granting me the ability to speak. “Please. Let me go,” I beg, my words barely audible. This is all too horrific to be real. I’m trapped in some sort of vivid nightmare. It can’t be real.

My senses overload as they take in the sights and scents of my surroundings. Despair trickles through my bones. Wake up, wake up . Deep inside though, I know this is not a dream. The monster peering down at me and the straps preventing me from rising are both very real.

Hot, fresh panic crawls up my throat. My voice comes out scratchy and desperate. “Please.”

“But you haven’t even admired my handiwork.” He chuckles and the sound causes sweat to bead across my body. A mirror flips down from above and I seize up with a scream that never comes out. What has he done to me?

The first thing I notice are the stitches. Crude, massive sutures cover my entire naked body. They connect at my hips, ankles, wrists, stomach, neck, elbows, chest, along my forehead, even several strips across various parts of my face. The cuts beneath them are angry and red.

My mouth gapes in terror. Somehow, even in the confusion and panic, I know I look all wrong. The eyes that stare back at me from the butchered reflection are blue and green. My eyes have always been brown. Those are not my eyes. This is not my body. Even my hair has changed. My silky chestnut locks are now tousled and blonde.

“What did you do?” The words are as quiet as the tears that stream down my altered cheekbones. A burning ache flares up across my skin as the salty liquid trails along the freshly made surgical wounds. The monstrous worm of a man somehow hears my voiceless words.

“I’ve remade you. A perfect living doll. A slave to my every need. Such a pretty thing.” A greyish tongue darts out, swiping across his mismatched teeth. “You’ll be such fun to play with.”

I inhale a terrified breath, watching my misshapen rib cage expand. The worm bends down, running that ashen tongue up my cheek.

“Don’t touch me!” I spit in his face. My mouth is still impossibly dry and most of what comes out are remnants of the fluid I vomited earlier. Still, it feels good.

“You’ve got a temper.” He tsks. “Don’t worry. I have a great many ways of breaking those who are too… spirited for my taste. You’ll see.” He slams an arm against the base of the table, causing it to swing with a metallic groan as it clicks into an upright position.

Then, I see them. I don’t even realize I’d had any lingering hope until it dies in that moment. Girls . At least a dozen. Each of them hang limply from chains securing them to the dark stone wall. And each of them is stitched—some with more skill than others—from head to toe. Their beauty, though grotesque, remains…even in death.

One of the girls shifts, her milky eyes rolling back in her head as her gaze skims past me. No, not dead. They’re alive .

A chuckle rumbles from within the blubbery, squirming body of the monster. “There it is. That’s the look I crave. Shock, horror. The realization there’s nothing you can do. Watching the light dim as despair turns you into a dispirited creature. One that’s all mine .”

“Let me out!” I scream, finally, finally , hearing some actual gusto in my voice. I thrash at the restraints with everything I’ve got.

The worm simply grins and turns away from me. “There’s no leaving my laboratory. You’re one of my most prized pieces. My best work thus far. Despite the parts I was given to work with, I was able to make a masterpiece of flesh and bone.”

My sobs grow in volume as I try and fail to break free. No matter how hard I try, I cannot pry my body loose. Pain stabs through me when I feel several of the sutures on my left thigh rip.

The worm halts his departure and wheels his bloated body back to face me. “If you tear your stitches, you will be severely punished. I hate to have to sew again from scratch. Now calm yourself. No one can hear you and no one will come to save you. Your fellow dolls can corroborate this truth.” He nods to the girls chained to the wall. I swallow thickly, giving a futile kick at my restraints. Unaffected, there’s a sticky squelching as his fat, wrinkled form slithers out of the lab.

The putrefied scent in the air clears mildly once he’s gone. I draw my breath in rapid pants, trying to slow my panicked lungs and heart long enough to take in enough oxygen and be able to think clearly. C alm down— I still. What’s my name? I can muster up a blurry vision of what I looked like…before. Before what? Other than the vaguest of forms, my mind doesn’t house a single memory from my life before this moment.

Sadness swallows me whole. How did I end up here ?

Those seconds of self-pity pass. It doesn’t matter how I got here. That information isn’t going to help me in my current situation. What’s important now is that I get out. There will be plenty of time to get my memories back once I’m free from this hellhole.

Jerking hard, I test my bindings again. A new tear on my left wrist makes me bite back a cry. The restraints haven’t budged one bit and all I’m managing to do is destroy my sutures in the process. I peer down at the rips on my thigh and wrist. There are some small gaps in the flesh, but no blood is leaking through. Maybe the cut isn’t deep enough to bleed. Or maybe...

I swallow back the acid in my mouth. Maybe I don’t bleed anymore because of whatever that sicko did to me.

The realization that I’m something else, something nonhuman , curdles my stomach. The heart in my chest is beating, but everything feels different than before. Different than it should . The concerning realization sparks an idea to life. If I don’t have blood, then I won’t bleed out if something happens to me.

It’s an absolutely insane thought. But if it’s true...

My focus tightens as I pour all my energy into wrenching my left wrist free. Pain splinters up my arm as I jerk and twist the already partially torn hand. Another suture pops free, then another. I grit my teeth as I yank my arm upward, slamming the partially connected hand against the tight binding again and again. Pain and nausea swirl through my abdomen. Don’t give up .

With one final sickening snap, the last of my stitches breaks loose. Horror floods my system as my hand drops to the floor. I stare down at it. The limp body part twitches where it lands. I brace myself for the blood to come, but it doesn’t—I was right. With great ease, I raise my shoulder, allowing the stump of my wrist to slide free, escaping the confines of the tight band that had been holding it in place. Disbelief gives me pause. My arm is free .

The excitement is short-lived. My arm is free. Great. Now what the hell am I supposed to do ? I raise the handless wrist into the air, gazing up at the tattered flesh. One hand free doesn’t help me escape. Especially when that one hand doesn’t even have a hand .

Great idea, you... Whoever you are. I mean whoever I am. God, this is so confusing.

The straps keeping me restrained end in thick metal buckles. I lower the stump of my handless arm to the end of the strap, working to hook it beneath the edge and push it back up through the buckle. The end of my arm is throbbing, but the pain isn’t near what I would have expected from losing a hand. My wrist moves in tiny circles, hitting the edge of the belt again and again until the end disappears beneath the metal. With a little jiggling, it slips through— Yes ! All that’s left is to figure out how to get the leather piece over the metal bar that’s securely inserted through one of the punched holes. I use my forearm to push the now-loose belt as far as I can and then jerk my right arm, hard. It takes me six tries, but eventually the metal bar slips free from the hole. Now all I have to do is pull my arm straight up and I’m free…

“I did it!” My smile pulls at the tight sutures on my face, dampening my celebration a little. Keep going . With both arms free, I can get out.

The belt across my chest is the first I let loose. With my upper body unimpeded, I’m able to lean forward and quickly work my way out of the hip and ankle restraints. The second I’m free, I crumple to the ground.

My body adopts the mannerisms of a fawn. Wobbly, unsure legs and a head that’s far too heavy for my weak neck. A shaking wracks through my limbs. Try as I might, I can’t quell the adrenaline.

Using my good arm, well, my better arm, I push myself up and climb to my feet. A row of white lab coats hangs directly behind the table where I was being held. I shimmy into one, refusing to acknowledge my naked and butchered body any longer. Doing up the buttons one-handed is frustrating but the relief I feel once I’m finally covered makes the struggle so worth it.

A pitiful cry turns my attention to the girls chained to the wall. I need a key. The lab is large but there are limited places to stash something. If I were a disgusting monster worm, where would I hide —A noise from somewhere above wrenches my attention toward the doorway. Is he coming back?

Screw the key. I’ll find another way to get the locks open. Medical tools lay scattered around the room. I choose one shaped like an icepick and head for the closest victim. The lock rattles as I drive the metal into it. Everything is so much slower and more frustrating with one hand.

“Come. On.” I groan in frustration as the lock refuses to open. I shove it in more forcefully and lose my grip. The icepick falls to the floor with a resounding clatter and I freeze.

If the oversized worm heard that...

“Is that you making all that noise? I told you to calm down.” The nasally voice comes from a stairwell at the end of the room.

I cannot get caught. I have to be more careful. This is so hard though.

“I’ll come back for you. All of you. I promise.” My shaky whisper inspires little confidence. The imprisoned girls gaze back at me blankly, without hope in their eyes. Guilt corrodes my stomach. I don’t want to leave them like this, but if I don’t get out, none of us have a chance.

I shove the icepick into one of the pockets of my coat and turn toward the opposite end of the room. A low thumping sound draws my stare back to the ground. My severed hand is twitching, flopping around where it fell. Some bizarre instinct takes hold of me and I snatch up the hand, placing it into another pocket.

This is probably a crazy idea, but ... I grab a large needle and spool of thread off the surgical table, adding those to the same pocket as my icepick, and race toward the only other passage leading out of the room. The hallway is unlit. I lift my arms, allowing my free hand and injured arm to wave before me in the darkness. The hallway slopes up, forcing my new legs to stretch and bend as I hike higher. A set of black iron doors greet me at the end of the hallway. The handle is like ice beneath my palm. Please be unlocked . Relief rushes through me as the doorknob clicks.

My shoulder slams against the cold metal as I push the door wide. There hadn’t been time to consider finding shoes. My bare feet take to the damp earth outside with blind confidence. Run, just run. Anywhere is better than here .

Trees and foggy darkness, that’s all I can see. It’s nighttime wherever I am. I keep running, not slowing for even a second. My pace remains steady until my body threatens to collapse. Why do I feel so weak?

I need rest. Once I’ve recharged, I’ll be able to find my way home. There’s got to be something around here that I can use to keep out of sight. A massive, black tree trunk catches my eye. It makes for a perfect hiding place. Part of the wood has rotted away, leaving it hollow in the middle. As a kid I always imagined trees like this housed fairies and magical realms. As an adult, I can only imagine what kinds of insects live within such an inviting home. Wait, was that a real memory? Did I just remember something from my past?

My lungs are still straining under the exertion of my escape. I gulp in breaths so loudly that I fear I’ll be discovered no matter where I take refuge. It takes every bit of control to steady my frantic lungs and get myself back to a semi-normal state of breathing.

There’s a snap from somewhere nearby and every muscle in my body tenses. Is the worm following me? I survey my surroundings. Should I climb the tree or crawl inside? The flailing of the severed hand in my pocket mocks me. Climbing with one hand is out of the question.

“In we go. You’ve got this. They’re just bugs,” I whisper, giving myself a pep talk. A trunk filled with a hundred little bugs is still better than a monstrous worm man who pieces together women and chains them up in his basement.

Another snap , this one closer. No more time for debate. I dive into the massive tree’s center, preparing to land on a bed of spiders or into a nest of bats. Instead, I fall, down down down. I fall so far and for so long that I’m given time to wonder if this is how Alice felt as she tumbled into Wonderland. The hollow tree consumes me whole. My screams of terror echo all around me, growing distorted and distant until, eventually, I crash to the bottom.

A soft whistling drags me out of the void of unconsciousness. My body lies in a position so twisted and wrong that any normal human would have been left in a pulpy heap of split flesh and shattered bones. Whatever the worm did to me must have made me more durable than I ever was in human form. That, or I’m dead. A concept too large for me to wrap my fuzzy brain around.

The whistling comes again. Turning my head to the right, I find a set of beady red eyes peering down at me. My limbs work of their own accord as I bolt upright, crab walking out of the hollow tree like my life depends on it. The snake, or whatever the hell it was, slithers quickly away.

Goosebumps cover my skin. I’m still in some sort of dark forest, but its changed. My surroundings are even darker now, with a greenish mist that permeates the space around me. A scent in the air cloys at my senses. It’s sweet and noxious, like sugary flowers and rotten meat. I take to my unsteady feet, acutely aware of the blue mushrooms squishing between my toes. The hollow tree in front of me looks exactly the same as the one I traveled through. How did I fall so far?

A loud series of roars and growls snaps my attention away from the mysterious tree and toward an open space to my left. The terror that’s been sparking beneath my skin since I awoke in this place rekindles. Two unimaginable beasts are fighting each other. One is a massive skeletal creature cloaked in a shadowy darkness. The other is a looming green and black…lizard? The reptilian monster opens its mouth to bellow and I glimpse several partially decomposed human bodies caught within its teeth.

The skeletal one slams a bony fist down on the top of the lizard’s head, sending it crashing to the ground. They roll as one, tangled together and heading straight for me. I scream so loudly it pierces my own ears. Both creatures look my way.

With no thought but survival, I run. My legs are still weak, but I power through. I’m not going to be eaten by some evil monstrosities in this new hell. If I’m dreaming, I better wake the fuck up now . I run until the sounds of the fight behind me have quieted. What if they’ve taken to chasing me instead of attacking each other? I peer behind me.

Before I can decipher anything in the darkness, something wraps around my ankle and jerks my feet out from beneath me. My body is dragged across the soft, fungus-covered earth with alarming speed. When I finally flip around to face the thing that’s ensnared me, I’m completely unprepared for the sight. A stunning orange flower that’s twice the size of me is pulling me toward a gaping, tooth-filled mouth. The plant would be considered gorgeous under any other circumstance, but realizing it’s a man-eating flora has cast away any illusion of beauty.

The fingers of my good hand dig into the dirt, trying to catch hold of anything that can stop my speedy collision with the gaping jaws ahead. Dirt buries beneath my nails but none of the soft ground helps to slow me. Defeat slaps me with its cold, mocking hand. There’s nothing more I can do . Seconds before collision, I close my eyes and release one final desperate scream for help.

A shrieking wail meets my sharp cry and I stop moving so abruptly that my head snaps forward. The wailing continues and something sticky and wet is flung onto my face and body. It takes a long, tense moment for the awful sound to quiet. I open my eyes.

There’s a man—standing over me. At least, he appears to be a man. His large hands pull me free from the now-pulverized flower. I lurch back as he turns toward me. There’s something wrong with his face, something... Wait, is that face paint? Swirls of black and white form the outlines of a detailed skull painted over his masculine features.

“Viblious blooms grow especially large in this region of the Hallows. Watch for the vines. If you step on them, they’ll snatch you up.” His voice is deep, smooth. Not at all what I was expecting. I just stare at him, blinking slowly, unable to speak. Black irises with violet pupils peer down at me curiously. Why are his eyes purple ? He unwraps a deep green vine from my ankle and tosses it aside.

I’m still sitting in stunned silence when he offers me a large hand covered in the same skeleton-like markings as his face. I take it, wincing as the remnants of flower goo squish between my fingers.

“Viblious blooms?” I question.

He gives me an impish grin. “You know, the flower that almost just made you its dinner.”

“Right.” I look at the slushy mess of floral remains.

“Not from around here?” He quirks a dark eyebrow.

“I’m not even sure where here is . I woke up in the lab of some disgusting, psychotic worm all stitched up and with no clue who or where I am. Then I fell down this giant tree and landed here, where apparently there are monsters and man-eating plants.” The words pour out of me on a wave of frustrated exhaustion.

“Hell of a night.” He gives me another of his infuriating grins. Why the hell is he smiling? I almost just died .

“You think this is funny?” I snip.

His smile drops. “You’ve got to admit, it’s an unusual turn of events.” His casual shrug pushes me over the edge.

“This has been the worst night of my life! This place is a nightmare, and everything is trying to kill me.” I shove at his chest with my good hand. His body doesn’t budge. Damn, this guy is built like a brick wall. Does he even notice I’m missing a hand ? And what is he, like seven feet tall? Who walks around so nonchalantly in a place like this? He’s wearing black jeans, a white t-shirt, and a leather jacket, for heaven’s sake. In a land filled with monsters.

My outburst seems to further amuse him. That stupid smirk is back on his roguish, skeletal face.

I glare up at him. “There’s nothing funny about it.”

The smirk dims and his forehead furrows. “Well, I’m not trying to kill you. In fact, I recall saving your life not five minutes ago.”

Heat sparks in my cheeks, spreading lower. He has a point . In the midst of chaos and certain death, my manners seem to have vanished. Can he blame me, though? Christ, I don’t even have one of my hands .

The severed appendage thumps in my pocket, reminding me that it’s still there. Well, technically I have both hands but one is still unattached . I take a deep breath, allowing myself to think rationally for the first time since I woke up. Here this guy is trying to help and I’m taking out all my anger and frustration on him. I choke back my pride.

“You’re right. Thank you for not letting that vibli—whatever, eat me.”

“You’re welcome. With what I know of your fiery personality so far I bet you’d taste spicy as hell. The poor plant probably would have spit you back out.” He flashes me a full grin that reveals two dimples set deep within his painted cheeks.

A laugh sneaks through my defenses and I find myself smiling despite the tragedy of my circumstance. “Who are you?” Yeah, I should have asked that first.

He opens his mouth, closes it, and rubs a finger along his jaw. Did he forget his name? A moment later he says, “You can call me Kel.”

“Kel,” I repeat back.

“And you, spicy little monster bait… What’s your name?”

My lips part to respond but no words come out. I search my memories and find absolutely nothing. My mind is a void. Pain aches within my chest as my breathing picks up. I have no idea who I am .

“I can’t remember.” The words come out through heaves.

Kel moves closer and places his hands on my shoulders. I step away from his hold, not wanting to be touched or comforted.

“It’s alright. We’ll figure this out. Just breathe. You just survived being almost-eaten alive. Panicking over something as trivial as your lost identity is a waste of your energy.” He’s trying to sound casual, but I can’t shake the feeling of loss and sadness that’s ricocheting through my ribs. “Let’s get you cleaned up and out of this part of the Hallows, yeah?”

Hold on. I’m surrounded by man-eating things and this guy is just— waltzing around ? My curiosity rises. I halt his departure. “Wait, what are you doing in the land of monsters?”

He levels a look on me that contains no humor whatsoever. “Hunting.”

Kel starts off in the other direction but I remain frozen in place. “How do you know it’s safe that way?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” He tosses me a wink over his shoulder.

For some unexplainable reason, or maybe just the fact I don’t have a better option right now, I follow him. I can’t deny the warm sensation I get while walking by him. I can’t shake the feeling I can just…trust him.

There’s a screech from nearby and I move in tight by his side. This close, I can smell him. There’s something familiar about the scent. It’s comforting and spicy. Cloves, maybe? I inhale deep and for the first time tonight, my muscles relax.

Our journey through the dark landscape continues in silence. We approach a glassy, black pond. Kel removes his jacket and lays it aside, then wades in, knee deep, without hesitation. He turns and beckons me with his hand.

“Come in and rinse off. That viblious slime is extremely acidic. It’s going to eat away at your skin if you don’t clean it off. You can put my jacket on afterwards.” He nods to the clothing he left behind.

“What if there’s something in the water?” My fears feel more than valid in a place like this.

“There are most certainly things in the water, but I’ll stand guard.” He gives me a once-over. “And I’ll keep my back turned.”

With that, he turns to face away from me. My skin is already beginning to burn and itch. I remove my severed hand, the thread, and the icepick from my lab coat and transfer them to the pockets of the leather jacket. The water greets me with surprising warmth. I sigh as I sink down into it.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Kel calls over his shoulder. “That’s all part of its trick.”

I don’t know what it he’s referring to, but the idea of something making you comfortable for some devious reason is enough to snap me out of my semi-relaxed state. I work quickly, using my good hand to rinse the goo from my body, face, and hair, and do my best to get the dirt and grime out from under my fingernails. The irritation on my skin fades almost instantly.

I’m just wringing the last of the moisture out of my new blonde hair when a massive ripple shudders across the surface of the water.

“Time’s up,” Kel announces. He whirls around and freezes when his gaze lands on my still-naked body. His dark irises appear to glow as his eyes glide across my form. It sends a rush of heat through me that leaves me shuddering and flushed. I dart out of the water, quickly slipping on the leather jacket before turning back around to face him. The jacket falls to just below my knees and puts into perspective how truly large Kel is. On his wide frame, this looked like a normal jacket. On me, it’s a dress I’m swimming in.

Kel trudges out of the pond, his gaze never leaving mine. Just as he’s stepping onto the bank, a series of thick, green tentacles shoot out of the water, wrapping around him. He’s yanked beneath the surface before I can scream. The water churns and then becomes eerily calm. I stare, unblinking, as minutes tick by. He’s just…gone .

What am I going to do now? I don’t know where I am, how to get home, or—

Several large bubbles rise to the surface and burst. Kel breaches the murky top soon after. He trudges to the bank, carrying several severed tentacles and looking unfazed. What in the actual world?

“I hate that guy,” Kel sighs as he tosses the wriggling appendages aside.

His clothes are soaked. The white t-shirt leaves little to the imagination as it outlines just how impeccably built he is, clinging to every hard line of his body. Now it’s my turn to gawk. His pants hang low, weighted down by the excess water they’ve absorbed. A strip of pale skin is exposed between his shirt and waistband. The hint of his lower abs peeks through the gap in the fabric.

The heat within me intensifies as I greedily drink in the sight of him. The temperature grows, rising until I’m sweltering hot. No, literally. It feels like my skin is going to melt off. I fan myself, unsure what to do. There must be literal fire racing beneath my skin. I’m overheating to a level that convinces me I’ll catch flame and combust at any moment. This is more than the temporary body spike of arousal.

“Whoa.” Kel moves forward, placing a hand on my forehead. “You’re burning up. Your body must be having a reaction to something.” It sure is having a reaction. That something is covered in muscles and standing much too close to me. He reaches his long fingers forward, unzipping the front of the coat.

I clutch at the fabric, pulling it from his grip.

“Relax, Sera. I’m not trying to expose you. Just let some air in there until you cool down.”

“Sera? That’s not my na—” The water ripples again and we both spin to face it.

“Let’s keep moving.” He grasps my upper arm and steers us back into the woods. The heat from my body dries my damp skin in a matter of minutes. I don’t think I’ve ever been so hot. I need a distraction.

“Where are we exactly?” My voice is breathy.

“We’re in the deeper level of the Hallows,” Kel says.

I don’t know what that means. “What are the Hallows?”

He gives me a pitying look. “It’s the underworld.”

That stops me in my tracks. “The underworld. Like, hell?”

“Hell is something mortals invented, but yes. Same idea.”

Dread starts at the top of my head and races all the way down to my feet. I suspected I may have died, but denial had allowed me to push that notion to the back of my thoughts for the sake of immediate survival. “That means…” My tongue feels thick enough to choke me. “…I really am dead?”

This time, Kel stops walking. There’s a sadness in his eyes that hurts me in my soul. “I’m afraid so.”

My voice is small, breaking as I ask, "What about heaven?”

“There is no heaven. Only the Higher Hallows.”

“Higher Hallows? Is it less scary than where we are now?”

Kel seems to consider my question. “It’s more peaceful. Most in the Higher Hallows don’t even know they’ve died. It’s like walking through an endless dream for them.”

“But I’m a good person, or I was, I really was. I mean I can feel it. Why would I end up here and not the higher part?” There’s a desperation in my tone that I can’t shut off.

Kel’s gaze drops to the ground. “Sometimes it has nothing to do with who you were, but how you died. Do you remember anything about your death?”

I shake my head. “Nothing. I told you, I woke up in some worm’s lab looking like this.” I indicate the stitches coating my body.

An emotion I can’t fully decipher crosses Kel’s face. “Ah. So you’ve met the Syratren.”

“Syratren? Is he a giant, psycho worm who mutilates girls for fun?”

“I’d heard rumors he was using spare parts for experiments, but I had no idea he’d successfully put someone back together.”

“Well it’s not just me. There are other girls, chained up, abused. He does god-knows-what to them. Half the girls looked barely alive.” I choke back my words as I think of their horrific treatment and condition.

Kel’s expression hardens. “He what?”

“He has them all chained up and broken. He was going to do the same to me. I had to rip off my own hand to escape!”

It’s not until Kel’s fingertip touches my cheek that I realize I’m crying.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know. When we get back to the Mid Hallows, I’ll make things right.” There’s an edge to his voice that gives me a glimpse of something lethal within him.

“Thats where you’re from? The Mid Hallows? How long have you been here?”

Kel issues a soft laugh. “I’ve walked the Hallows since before the mortal world had any mortals to call it home. Back then, all manner of monstrosities roamed the earth. That was before the Hallows were created. This”—he gestures around him—“is the reason humans have a fighting chance at survival. This… Well.” He clears his throat. “I’m more interested in your back story. You said you just arrived today?”

“Yes, I woke up here, today, pieced together like some Frankenstein monster.” Indignantly, I yank the jacket closed.

“Well, it is Halloween in the mortal world. We get an influx of souls this time each year.”

Because we’re in hell. Right .

“I still don’t understand why I got sent here and not somewhere better.” I peer around. Kel appears unbothered by the glowing eyes that seem to follow us everywhere.

He releases a deep sigh. “Sometimes the deaths are more horrific, intentional. Those types of endings leave a dark mark on the victim and confuse the soul reapers. So, you end up here instead of up above.”

Shock pulses through me. “You’re saying I was murdered?”

His dark eyes track down to mine. “Would you like to find out for certain? I can show you, but I don’t usually recommend—”

“You can do that? See how people died?” My good hand toys with the zipper of my jacket, inching it up and down. Something about the repetitive sound of the zip zip zip brings me comfort.

“I don’t recommend it. But I can, if that’s what you really want.” The caution in his tone doesn’t escape me, but I ignore it.

“I do. Please. I want to know.”

Kel gives another deep sigh. “Let’s find somewhere to rest for a while. There’ll be a migration of cursed spirits at some point this evening. It will be better to be settled when that happens.”

I nod and follow him. Kel steers us toward a thicket of ominous-looking black trees. They stand in a circular shape with several cut down in the middle. I keep a wary eye out for any hollowed trunks, firmly deciding not to fall into any other monster realms this evening. He points to a fallen log and I sit obediently.

Kel takes a seat beside me, keeping several feet of distance between us. He shifts his upper body and I take note of just how long his arms are. Extending one arm toward me, he hovers his fingertips just in front of my collarbone.

“Are you sure you want to do this? I can’t make you forget again, and many people wish they hadn’t learned the truth once they know.”

There’s something in his voice that makes me almost reconsider. I’ve been assuming I was the victim in some tragic death or accident. What if I wasn’t a good person after all? It’s possible I did something bad. Bad enough to land me all the way down here instead of in the Higher Hallows. If what Kel said is true, I ended up here because of how dark my death was or as a consequence of whatever I did leading up to my death.

What if I killed someone? Worst-case scenarios flash through my mind. Running over a trick-or-treater on my way home from work. Shooting a lover after finding him or her wrapped in the costumed arms of another. Poisoning the punch at a Halloween party. I’m certain any one of those situations would have landed me here. If that’s the case, do I really want to know? Wrapped up in my fear, I start to lean away from Kel’s hand.

But how can I go on not knowing? I have no idea how I ended up here, and something about my death might hold the answer to that. I breathe deeply. “I need to know.”

Kel’s skeleton-painted mouth presses into a line. “So be it.” His fingertips make contact with my chest and I’m swept away.

As the fuzziness clears from my vision, I see myself seated in a small bar. A gasp squeaks out of me . I look so different. Long chocolatey hair hangs loosely beneath a taupe cowboy hat. Deep brown eyes sparkle with innocence. A combination of jean shorts, a blue flannel, and cowboy boots has me certain I was some sort of country girl before my death. That assumption is further solidified by the tattoo on my left inner wrist. Four horseshoes lead up to the name “Silky” and a date. Who was Silky? A horse? Was she mine? I look away from the tattoo and back to the girl I was. I look so happy sitting there at the bar. A smile lights my face as I throw my head back in laughter. Happy and carefree. The woman in front of me is nearly unrecognizable and yet, I know we’re the same girl.

The man I’m facing leans forward, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. He’s dressed in a red button-up, with well-worn blue jeans, boots, and a cowboy hat that’s several shades darker than my own. Blond curly hair peeks out from beneath the brim. He says something else and I break into another fit of laughter.

“Who is he?” Kel’s voice has me cursing in surprise. Has he been standing by my side this whole time?

“I don’t know.” I shake my head. “Are we in a memory?”

Kel nods, but his eyes stay fixed on the man entertaining me at the bar. “ Your memories. We’re seeing what you did in the last few hours before you died.”

Well, whoever he is, he sure is cute. The cute cowboy leans in and whispers something in my ear. A rosy blush colors my lively cheeks. He tosses a few bills on the counter and we both head toward the exit.

“I’m thinking he just invited me to go home with him,” I whisper to Kel as my past self and the cowboy walk by.

“I think you’re right. And you don’t need to whisper. You can’t affect anything in these memories. Let’s move ahead.”

I close my eyes and the next time they open I’m standing in front of a ranch-style home on a rather large farm. The city lights have been left far behind. A subtle, flickering porch light is the only glow in our vicinity. Is this where I died?

A rustic, silver truck pulls into the property, illuminating the front porch a few moments before shutting off its lights. The cowboy and I jump out. I’m still giggling as I stumble toward the front door. Before I can reach it, he stops me.

“Come on around back. I want to show you something.” There’s an easiness to his tone, but my skin prickles nonetheless. He takes my hand and we hurry around the side of the house, heading toward a large red and white barn. Light shines from just beneath the wide sliding doors. It grows brighter as he opens them and leads me inside.

Kel and I stop just outside the barn. My breathing has turned shaky. “This is where it happens?” I ask in a quiet voice. My heart is aching with a truth that’s already rooted in me despite my lack of memories.

Kel turns to face me. His gaze is dark as he peers down. Large hands land on my shoulders, squeezing. “I can go in there for you. You don’t have to see. You don’t have to do this.”

A scream from within the barn has my breath quickening and my heart racing. I don’t respond to his question. My feet drag as I take slow, heavy steps toward the barn door. When I’m close enough, I pass right through.

It’s so much worse than I could have imagined.

The cowboy is no longer alone. Five others join him, all wearing matching black robes. I lay in the middle of a black painted circle. The outside is lined with candles, animal bones, and small-game corpses. The group has me hog-tied with my wrists bound to my ankles. I’m squirming against my bindings, tears flooding my face and soaking the dusty floor beneath. I manage to roll onto my side and gaze up at the men surrounding me. The fear in my eyes is reflected in every cell of my being right now.

“Please, please, please...” I say over and over again through my sobs.

The men ignore my pleas.

The horror strangling my insides intensifies as they each procure a blade from beneath their robes. The cowboy speaks words in a language I can’t understand. The other five repeat his words in unison.

“It’s a cult,” Kel says through gritted teeth. “They’re going to sacrifice you.”