What the fuck isn’t possible?Not only do we have ghosts on this planet, but now we also have magic. Actual fucking magic. Milly justmadesnow out of thin air. And to top it all off, I’ve lived a life before this one. Am I reincarnated? Is that a real thing? I have never had so many questions.
I rub my eyes gently as they dry out from all the tears. I feel achy. My eyes are puffy, and I’m sure my face is red from crying. I try to inhale, but my nose is congested. I cough a little as I grab a tissue and blow into it.Hot.
I’d like to say that the groundbreaking news about being brought back to life is what shocks me, but it’s the fact that I somehow found Milly again that grips me. From the second I saw Milly…no, correction, from the second I saw Millyagain, there was something about her. I felt drawn to her instantly. As though my suddenly arriving at this campus was truly fate intervening. I would have never set foot here willingly. My body naturally repelled being on this campus.
But the second I saw Mildred again? I suddenly felt hope. I suddenly felt the desire to uncover the unknown—the unknown about the history of the campus, which happens to be my history too. At least now I understand my heightened emotions around her. I suddenly don’t feel as ridiculous for the attachment that I’ve been trying to suppress.
“Milly, what did Warren Brown do? Why are his family members still doing this?” I ask with a weak voice. She looks down at me as I scootslowly away to take her all in. She sighs, looking out the window, lost in flashes of the past.
Without words, she pulls the neckline of her nightgown down. I stare at the tension peeking through her cheek as her jaw clenches, before glancing down and gasping instantly. A giant scar burns with a stubborn redness where her heart lies underneath.
“Did…did Priest Brown do this to you? Is that how you—” Rage consumes me instantly. Words are no longer at the forefront of my mind. All I can think about is one thing.
He hurt her.
She places her hand on my clenched fist, and my eyes open again, but I find myself only able to lock my eyes on her wound. She gently takes her other hand and lifts my chin up to make contact with her before they flicker out again briefly, her own rage overpowering her form.
She leans her head back, opening and closing her mouth a few times before frowning softly, appearing to be lost for words as well. I remain silent, offering her time to compose her thoughts as I try to hold in my fury.
“I still cannot recall all the details of what transpired. It remains a blur. Yet, I do remember…being sacrificed by Priest Brown.”
Madness rushes through me as I clench my jaw at my mind’s image of Milly begging for help,dyingfrom that fucking man’s hands. There will be a chance for me to right this wrong, and when I do? I’ll find a way to make Priest Brown suffer for continuing the rituals of his ancestors, even if that means I have to go to Hell itself to watch him burn.
“I am so, so sorry. I can’t begin to imagine how you feel being in the presence of his family. It’s disgusting that they have carried on these traditions for all these years.” I lift my hand up to gently stroke her forearm.
Part of me is grateful I don’t remember the pain myself, butwitnessing Milly experience it? I wish I could switch places with her to alleviate it.
She shakes her head at me, and I pinch my brows together in confusion. “No, my shadow. It is not his kin, but the very Warren Brown himself. He has never crossed over the veil.”
My jaw loosens the clench I’ve been holding onto as I lean up in shock, my body now filling with tension in response, becoming stiff as a board.
Warren Brown is the original priest? The one who murdered Milly and me all those years ago? My anger transcends rage, turning into something so dark it makes my body tremble. A fire ignites within me, a distinctly feminine fury that burns in the deepest parts of my soul, as I envision the torment she must have endured in his unrelenting presence. The frustration of seeing the man who murdered you for the sake of religionlive.
“What do you mean he hasn’t fucking died, Milly? How is that even possible? You’re telling me that man, the man who can’t look more than 50 years old, is the original Warren Brown? He’d have to be over a hundred years old!” I run my fingers through my hair as my wrath overwhelms me.
Everything that I thought I knew is continuing to collapse. It begins to fill me with an overwhelming sense of dread. The potential of anything being truly possible in this sick and twisted world drowns me in shock.
How are we going to stop him? What hope do I have against someone who has learned the ins and outs of a world I still am struggling to wrap my mind around?
“I must warn you, my shadow, this may be rather jarring to hear. I can disclose all I know.”
My eyes flash back toward her as I swallow. I so desperately want to shake my head, run for the woods, and never look back. I can feel myselftremble with fear at the weight of the information inundating me, wondering how I can continue to stay strong and not shatter.
Milly must notice it on my face because she smiles at me and whispers, “Let’s stop for a moment, Shadow. You’ve done so well. It’s all right to continue to unravel for a while…to not be okay.”
I smile back at her somberly. “I’ll be okay. Just—just give me a moment.”
I inhale for 5 seconds, hold it for 4, and then exhale for 6 counts after. I repeat this breathing technique over and over again until my nervous system calms down as much as it can. I exhale heavily one last time before nodding at Milly to continue.
She pauses before staring out the window once again as the memories seem to play through her mind, taking her completely out of this moment.
“Priest Brown holds his purity as a matter of great pride. From a young age, he was raised by his parents to have devotion to God. He actively sought opportunities to draw closer to Him more than any other. He longed to be the next disciple, the one who would walk and talk closest to Him.
In his spare time, he devoted himself entirely to reading, memorizing, and sharing the word of the Bible. At first, his heart was pure, as far as anyone could observe. The story goes that he became utterly convinced he was speaking directly to God whenever he lit the candles and knelt before the cross in his silent devotions. But it was not God with whom Warren Brown was speaking.” She swallows as a single tear drips down her cheek.
“No, it was something far darker—something much worse. He had fallen into the lure of a demon, one of Satan’s own, one who craved the sacrifice of human flesh. It was through this deception and manipulation that the demon convinced Warren that he was to lead the path to the Rapture through these sacrifices.” She sits there, letting me absorb her words as I stare at her with my nostrilsflaring.
I rub my eyes as my head starts to ache. I guess I really do believe in Heaven and Hell now. I mean, for fuck’s sake, there’s a demon on this devoutly Catholic campus sacrificing humans.
