Page 2 of Deceiver

The journalist brushes my hair from my forehead. “I regret not speaking to you sooner.”

I nod, barely able to keep my eyes open.

“I’m Samuel.” He smiles sadly. “Help is coming, Edward. Stay with us.”

“Too… late…” I manage to choke out. Lucy is sobbing with her head on my stomach. The added weight hurts, but everything does at this point. “Sam… uel.”

He nods, squeezing my hand. “Just a bit longer. You have to fight, Edward.”

I want to. I’m not ready to die. With all my strength I squeeze Samuel’s hand back, but I’m fading away.

“Beau—” Forcing my eyes open, I focus on Samuel’s kind gaze. “You. Beau… ti… ful.”

Samuel smiles, whispering, “So are you. I would have liked to know you.”

Nodding, I swallow more blood. “Lucy.”

She lifts her head, her face streaked with tears. “Don’t you dare die. The doctor will be here any moment now. Don’t die, Edward. Please.”

I can barely keep my eyes open, but I can just see the townsfolk standing around, watching me with concerned eyes.

“Cat,” I choke out. “Feed cat.”

“You have a cat?” Lucy asks.

“Stray.”

She nods. “We’ll find the cat.” Her gaze shifts to Samuel. “You’re a friend?”

Samuel nods, smiling at me. “Yes, I’m a friend. I’ll help.”

“Until you’re better,” Lucy says, her voice full of false cheer. “Then you can feed the cat again.”

I appreciate her optimism, but my life is slipping away. I can’t be saved. That much I’m sure of.

“The doctor is coming,” someone yells, but it’s already too late.

My last breaths leave my body in shallow puffs, and the further I get from this life, the less I feel the pain. It’s too bad. I could’ve had a lovely future here in Salem. Now, I’m going to find out if the pastor’s sermons are right or not.

“He saved my life,” are the last words I hear Lucy say.

I open my mouth in an attempt to say goodbye, but no words come out. There’s nothing left. The last thing I see is Samuel, leaning over me with panic in his eyes. I wish I could tell him not to be sad for me. There’s no more pain.

Only darkness.

Waking with a gasp, I bolt upright, staring into opaque blackness before me. Gone are the townsfolk, Lucy, and Samuel. Where am I?

I get to my feet easily, feeling no pain at all. Patting my chest, stomach, and face, I’m shocked by the lack of injuries. That can only mean one thing. I’m dead.

A strong pulling sensation overcomes me, nudging me to move forward. I do, walking through the darkness towards an unknown destination. My legs feel heavy, and it takes effort to move them, but as I look around, I spot a door up ahead.

I lunge toward it and find myself directly in front of it in the blink of an eye. Twisting the doorknob, I push it open and peer inside, but it’s too dark for me to make anything out.

“Hello?”

No one answers, but the insistent tugging in my chest is still present, so I allow it to guide me. I navigate narrow hallways until I arrive at an opening where dim light seeps into my path. Inside, there are muffled voices and the sound of activity.

“Mr. Wilkins. We’ve been expecting you.”