“Come closer,” he said.
“Uh, that’s wildly suspicious,” I said. He waited, and curiosity got the best of me. I leaned in to hear what he had to say. He reached out and grabbed my arm, stabbed a syringe in it, and withdrew a single drop of blood before Nemo threw him off me.
“You put a hole in my shirt!” I said. “Also,ow.”
He walked up to Bree and then snatched the cat from her hands. Much to the cat’s dismay. It screamed and scratched him like it was at war.
“Good kitty,” he purred. Then, he turned around and left.
“He has a shitty way with conversation,” I sighed. Nemo grunted. We all turned back to the asylum.
“What’s the letter say?” Bree asked. I looked down at the paper and scanned the lines.
“They are going to sail around the Atlantic getting fat on Gonzo’s stolen yacht.” I folded it back up and put it in my pants.The fire kept burning. Most of the inmates ran off into the woods.
“What do we do now?” I asked morosely.
“We terrorize the whole world, of course,” Bree said with a big smile, leaning over to eye my mask.
“Right, but, like, are we sleeping outside?” I asked in disgust, staring at a bug flying by. “I’ve heard of camping, but that can’t be a real thing, right?”
“I have a house,” Orson said.
“Didn’t they exhume bodies from your house?” Bree asked.
“I have a different house. Come on.” He walked off, and the others followed him.
1
FUNERAL PYRE
BAZ
Verfallen Asylum was still burning to the ground. Flames licked my skin like a warm tongue. Fire couldn't hurt me—genetic leftovers from my phoenix ancestry. The rubber soles of my boots, however, were beginning to melt as I watched from the patchy lawn.
Despite that, I wasn’t in a rush to peel myself off the ground and rejoin society.
It'd been hard to keep track of time inside, but if I had to guess, I’d spent about fifteen years behind the stone bricks of that collapsing penitentiary. Maybe even closer to twenty now. I wasn’t sure how old that made me, only that I was probably too old to be properly socialized. Then again, who’s to say a man like me could’ve ever been taught those types of things.
I was a killer, after all. Of animals, of friends, of strangers, and especially of family.
With that in mind, I pulled out the note my sister had written before washing me completely from her mind. Wasn't that just adorable? Wipe your hard drive of all the family files. Where could I sign up for that type of therapeutic memory loss? Reallythough, who was going to be inappropriately obsessed with me now?
I stood up and walked closer to the violent heat. One last time, I read the line asking me to touch some grass, then I threw it towards the flames, watching the paper blacken and curl. Hadn’t even breached containment for ten minutes and, I had to say, wasn’t exactly enjoying the experience.
Suddenly, Nemo ripped me back, pulling me away from the inferno and across a hundred feet of weeds and dead grass. That was dramatic. I rolled my eyes and tried to not fall on my ass as I was dragged. He flung our bodies against a chainlink fence and began hauling me up and over. Although he was more than capable of handling my dead weight, when the wire threatened to shred my mask, I looped my gloved fingers through the metal and climbed up on my own.
His arms brushed the sides of my body from behind, caging me in as if worried I’d fling myself back towards the asylum. Pile of ash or not, I wasn’t looking forward to leaving my prison, and he knew that. It didn't matter where I was—a mental hospital, or a family mansion—freedom had never been part of my life. Leaving the asylum was going to isolate me more than staying would have.
I was freer in there than out.
At least there I had group therapy and cafeteria time. And when I happened to accidentally kill a few orderlies or misplace a couple bodies in my room? No one gave a shit.
I jumped down on the free side of the fence before Nemo leaped over, hacking on smoke that I breathed easily. I leaned against the fence while Nemo cleared his lungs. Other escaped inmates ran around the place like maniacs, ripping their clothes off and screaming at the moon.
This was going to be a shitshow. I sure hoped whatever little town we were hidden next to was prepared for the onslaughtof hundreds of deranged, supernatural murderers. But let’s be serious, they were colossally fucked.
“Shit,” Nemo rasped. “I’m marking smoking off the list of things to try.” I stared at him with surprise. Unlike me, he’d never experienced anything beyond those walls. He’d been born in the basement, a science experiment that was half werewolf, half monster. Right now, though, he only looked like a man. Had he fantasized about what he might do outside of the asylum? If so, he’d never told me about it. His lips were shiny with spit from coughing before he wiped them off and grabbed me. My hands wrapped around his wrists while he fisted my jacket.
