Page 41 of All the Things We Buried

All the people who had disappeared from town must have been here. Or still were. As I turned my head, I saw a black telephone attached to the wall. It rang. Three times.

I turned around, and the room was empty. Ezekiel was gone.

I walked toward the phone. My hand trembled as I picked it up.

At first, there was only breathing.

Then a little girl’s voice whispered, “Hello? Mommy?”

“W-who is this?” I asked.

“It’s really dark here, and I’m scared,” she said softly. “What if I dream that you never come again?”

Something heavy settled in my chest. Her voice cracked as she continued.

“I’m so, so scared, Mommy. Please find me.”

I slammed the phone back onto the receiver.

But it rang again.

My hand hovered above it. Every part of me screamed not to answer, but I did.

“You have to run. Run. Run,” said an older man’s voice. “Or they’ll make you chop. Chop. Chop everyone apart.”

“Who will?” I asked, my voice shaking.

“Don’t sign. Don’t sign anything,” he said quickly.

The line went dead.

I turned around slowly, and there he was.

Ezekiel stood in the center of the room. He wore a white robe, and a silver mask covered his face, glinting in the light. He walked toward me, then grabbed my arm and pulled me closer. He pushed me toward the cages.

“Every last Friday of the month,” he said, “at exactly 3:18 in the morning, you will go into town. You will collect a young soul and bring it here.”

I looked at him. Even with my crazy mind, I knew this was wrong. Every part of me knew it.

“You will lock them in here,” he said, gesturing to the cages, “and leave. Until you are called again.”

“You’re insane,” I said with a nervous laugh. “I won’t take anyone.”

He didn’t flinch. His voice dropped low.

“Either them, or Lenore.”

My heart thundered. I looked at the cages again, and in my mind, I saw her there. Alone. Crying. Trapped.

My hands clenched. My jaw tightened.

“Fine. I’ll do it.”

“Very well,” he said calmly. “Tomorrow, you will take your first soul. But first, you must pray.”

“Pray?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

He pointed toward the center of the room, where pillows were arranged neatly in front of the altar.