They were told the rules. They knew their role in their own survival, and they dared to bury me.
Hide me with shame.
Now, they are all dead.
The manor is a husk of its one-time grandeur. Everything I gave has been returned and the Ushers will cease to exist. Their names, mere whispers in hushed conversation.
And when the last Usher has fallen, I will be free of this place. I will take my power back and set into the world as it has become with my brothers. Once we are free, we can begin the progress of growth. We can try again. Perhaps, once we are free, we can be the family I intended.
For now, I watch Lenora pad into the bedroom. Her white gown, a pale beacon in the dull halo of light. Thick tendrils spill in damp coils down her back, a sharp contrast to the sweet, soft pallor of her flesh.
My little pet.
She will free me.
In return, I will unleash the true darkness curdling deep in her delicate soul. I will feed that hungry creature. Gorge it on as much hatred as it can consume. Nothing is as delicious as the taste of someone so pure. So … willing to sell her sanity for vengeance.
I suck in a slow, rattling breath as the urge to devour her now surges over me.
Patience.
She must ask for it. Must beg me to calm that pain. To put her back together.
Such a meal she will make.
I bite my lip with delight as Lenora gathers up her light, leaves the Usher in his bed and pads from the room.
To me.
Chapter Twelve
Lenora
Therearetoomanycorridors.
Too many bends.
Every new one is a replica of the last. Every turn is like going in circles.
I stop.
The carpet beneath my feet squishes stagnant water between my toes. Around me, condensation drips in mute plops from the soggy ceiling over my head. The walls sweat, slick with mold.
I do wonder what would happen if I got lost. Would anyone find my body? I know Marcus would make certain of it. He would hire an army to find me. But would I be alive?
I let that thought go and resume my search. Somewhere behind me, the chapel with my boys tucked inside sits in darkness. So still and silent in their coffins. I stopped wondering if I can hear them now that it’s night. All the books say night is when the other side wakes.
They did not wake.
I pressed my ear to the smooth wood and waited, breath held tight in my chest.
Nothing.
But I don’t think about that now. Getting distracted will only get me more lost.
How many turns had we taken? I haven’t even seen that grisly painting of the melting man. Maybe I should turn back and…
A faint click of blades on glass.
