Page 108
Story: Ghosts of the Dead
I force my eyes to open and lock onto her face. Autumn lifts my head into her lap and then looks down at me. Her hazel eyes are wide with fear. I don’t like that. I hope she gets her sparkle back. Her lip trembles. Her hand is soft where it rests against my cheek. I breathe in, then out. I’m not there. I’m here with Autumn, the safest place in the world. And the only monsters are the three brothers standing at the top of the stairs, grinning like this is all a game and they’re winning.
“Well, look what we have here,” the one with the gum says, his jaw working in continuous circles. He stares down at me with a cold, appraising gaze. “Pretty boy took quite a tumble.”
Autumn tries to block me from them, to protect me, but I won’t let her. No one else will ever get hurt because I couldn’t protect them. No one will ever get hurt because I cowered and remained safe.
Luna’s growls intensify as she positions herself at the bottom of the stairs, a living barrier between us and the brothers. She bares her teeth, white and sharp in the dim light, her body tense and ready to spring.
I can hear Mars on the far side of the basement, still furiously working at the locks on the cages. His flashlight flickers and then goes out. He utters a soft curse. He needs us to buy him more time. Every second helps.
“Caspian,” Autumn warns me when I try to move. She presses a hand against my chest to hold me back.
The gum-chewing brother’s eyebrows rise. “Caspian? With that platinum hair and those ghost-pale eyes?” He laughs, the sound echoing against the concrete walls. “Should be Casper instead. Perfect for how well you disappear into the shadows, and for how well you floated down the stairs. Bet that’s what your girlfriend here calls you, isn’t it? Casper?” He snickers. “More like Casper because you’re dead.”
Everything stops.
That name. The one my father spat at me while his fists fell like cement. The one my mother hissed while locking the closet door. The one they both laughed with as my brother’s screams faded to nothing.
Casper.
The world narrows to a pinpoint, and something inside me snaps.
I scramble to my feet with my blade in my hand. The dark still presses in, but it’s different now. It’s mine. I climb the stairs. Autumn hurries to follow, but I don’t intend on letting her fight my battles for me. Not anymore.
The dying light that’s barely filtering in through the cracks in the boarded windows barely illuminates anything, but I don’t need it. I’ve lived in the darkness my entire life, long enough to become the ruler.
Shadows dance across their faces, but I can hear them. The scrape of boots on the floorboards, the click of a blade sliding free.
This is my battlefield, not theirs.
The first one charges, his sandy hair tangling in the breeze. I push Autumn out of the way and then shift, sidestepping him, letting him come to me. Luna lunges at the same moment, and her jaw clamps around his arm. He screams and thrashes his arm around, trying to shake her off, but she holds fast, growling deep in her throat. The knife in my hand feels right. Perfect weight, perfect balance. I drive it up, catching him under the ribs while he’s distracted by Luna. He grunts and staggers back, but he’s still standing and that’s a problem.
The dark closes in tighter as he moves into the shadows. I can’t see his face anymore.
Casper.
The voice in my head claws at me. I almost drop the knife.
You can’t win this.
Then I feel her. Autumn’s hand brushes my arm. A whisper. A tether. “Caspian.” Her voice gets louder, and the fog gets weaker. “Caspian.”
The next brother, Richy, comes from the side, swinging a pipe. Luna’s warning bark alerts me in time. I shove Autumn out of the way, then duck under and roll into the shadows, moving by instinct. I can’t see, but I don’t need to. I’ve lived in the dark my whole damn life.
“Look at little Casper go,” the gum-chewer taunts, leaning against the wall with mocking eyes. “Bet your daddy would be so proud. Or was he the one who broke you, Casper? I’ve got daddy issues of my own, and I turned out alright.”
Red fills my vision. There are no shadows anymore. Only blood-red rage.
One down.
Two to go.
The third brother, the fucking gum-chewer, grabs me and slams me back into the wall. The impact knocks the breath from my chest. His hand clamps around my throat and squeezes until my vision blurs. “Fucking die already. Then you’ll really become a Casper.”
Not this time.
My hand tightens on the knife and I drive it up between us, blind and desperate. It slides into something soft. I would guess his belly. He grunts and stumbles back. The pressure lifts from my throat and the stale air is sharp when it hits my lungs. I drag myself upright.
The dark feels different now. It’s not suffocating. Not in control. It’s mine, now. I own it.
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