KANE
Aloud thud jolts me as I wince, turning onto my back. The hard tiles are going to leave bruises on my hip, but the burning on the inside of my knee stops me from feeling it fully.
“Sasha?” I ask, expecting the little nutcase to be throwing a tantrum. There’s no sound, only my dried blood pulling on my skin. Dragging myself up to my feet, I scrub a hand down my face then pull my pants up. The Three will arrange for everything to be cleaned so there’s nothing for me to do other than take my rose and scalpels.
The blood on my hand stains the drying petals, settling into the creases of the skin. I turn to grab the clean towel from the holder beside the door but pause at the small card lying on the floor near my blood.
Sharp gothic swirls surround the oval shape in the middle of the card, the same color as the cardstock. I recognize the design from the card I used to send Delilah a message. Fuck, that feels like a lifetime ago. What I’d give to go back in time, to stand in the rain as she trembled in an empty cabin after I pierced her tires.
The cards were always showing up at my apartment without a message on them. I thought they were a marketing tool or incorrectly sent to me. Now, it’s here, in Bali, thousands of miles away.
Carefully lifting it by the edge, I turn it to show the same blank side I received previously. I’m about to throw it in the trash when my blood soaking through the edge slowly bleeds into the paper, revealing the tail of an S.
I lower to my haunches, swiping two fingers through the blood on the floor before rubbing it on the card. There’s not enough to show the full message due to it being dried, so I pick up the scalpel I dropped and cut my palm.
As soon as my fresh blood hits the card, it soaks it up, slowly revealing the words. I’m too impatient to wait and add more cuts. My blood is reacting to it, staining the white card as stark blue letters bubble through.
What would you sacrifice to the Wards?
The Wards?
Fuck!
Lennox said the islanders turned to the wards for help. I thought it was a religious thing, some bullshit deity they made up. It’s not wards, like a guardian watching over them or protecting them. It’s Wards. Like a family.
The third fucking family.
Kobalt.
Leroux.
The motherfucking Wards.
I turn the card over, frantically searching for a way to tell them I’ll give them my life as long as they tell me where Delilah is. They’ll know, it’s their island too. This is their fucking mess they helped create.
But there’s nothing fucking there.
My blood clings to the beveled edges, specifically, the scales on what I thought was an ornate oval. It’s two intertwined snakes eating the other’s tail.
Lion.
Ram.
Snake.
Fuck!
My fist flies out, hitting the door. Little splinters of wood embed themselves into my knuckles, yet there’s no pain, just fucking anger. I’m so fucking stupid. All this time, they’ve been trying to contact me but I ignored it. This is all my fault; if I looked at the card closer, bled on it, examined it, searched for a message, everything would be different.
Stuffing the card into my pocket, I leave the bathroom to find who left it for me. Fuck it, I’ll beg them. It can’t be worse than anything else I’ve done. At least there won’t be any rotting flesh or cold infusing itself to my matter.
The bedroom is empty.
So is the hallway.
As are the other rooms.
Everywhere is void of humanity as I find Sasha in the kitchen, sitting cross-legged on the counter, eating from the pan on the stove. Her mask hasn’t been changed yet so the edges are curling as she pushes a thin slice of charred meat through the mouth hole. “Hungry?”
