Page 18 of Fatally Yours

After a grueling journey in the pitch black dodging headlights and confused expressions, we made our way to Devin’s house.

Memories came flooding back of all the misery I experienced here.

If my mood could fall any further, it would.

August appeared to feel much different than I did since he began singing under his breath the closer we got.

Something about the devil and midnight made my skin crawl.

I supposed it was nice he felt so good about this, considering I felt like I was being shoved back into that grave. It was like those bloodstained sheets and heaps of dirt were pressed over my face again, smothering me with emotion .

August eyed me as we approached, carefully avoiding the outdoor lights cutting through the darkness like a blade.

I noticed Devin’s car in the driveway as I pressed myself against his home.

Despite my lack of life, I could still feel the chill of the brick against my back and the weight in my chest as he pulled open the back door that Devin always kept unlocked.

Serious crime didn’t happen in this town—not since August was taken from me.

I had a creeping feeling the rate would only increase with his resurrection.

Between the way he involuntarily made me join him and his comments about taking the world, something wicked was bound to happen.

As they say, revenge is a dish best served cold, just like a corpse.

He grasped the handle and began to pry open the door.

I observed as it creaked, feeling like the world was in slow motion.

There was a low scrape as it moved inch by inch until there was enough space for us to slip in.

He motioned for me to follow him as he entered the home, and without protest, I obeyed.

As soon as we were inside, I felt like my still heart danced in my chest. There were so many memories from the past few months that were as suffocating as being in the grave.

Flashing of fights, arguments, and sobs surrounding August’s death were swirling in my head, making tears rest on the edges of my eyes.

Being here was like being in a haze of sorrow.

There was nothing that could make me enjoy returning—except revenge.

Revenge for all the terrible things he said to me, all the times he screamed at me, all the guilt he made me feel for mourning.

Maybe there was something to this, even if the idea of it chilled me to the bone.

August’s footsteps were silent as he tiptoed through the living room.

We could hear rustling in the kitchen, and he continued to creep while his shadow was plastered on the wall like a phantom.

I could only imagine the suspenseful music that would play if this were a movie.

And it would increase as August ambushed Devin and strangled the life out of him.

It would be quick, and I would have to cover my eyes.

Perhaps I would peek through for a moment, but that sight would haunt my nightmares, even if it did intrigue me .

Devin was standing at the counter with his back to us, oblivious to the invaders in his home.

The silence was so profound that it was almost deafening, and I swore I could hear a ringing in my ears as I watched August sneak up behind him.

His steps were as still as the night as he crept across the kitchen, and in an instant, he was on him.

It was like watching one of those nature documentaries when you see a spider pounce on a helpless insect faster than the blink of an eye.

August’s firm hands grabbed him and spun him around, his fist raising and coming down against his face.

Just as I predicted, I covered my eyes as a scarlet spray of blood fell from Devin’s now crooked nose.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” I said under my breath, hearing the sounds of grunts and snarls from them. When I uncovered my face, August had him flipped onto his back and was pummeling him with a blank expression. Emotionless, just like a predator.

“August?!” Devin’s voice was clogged with blood as he hit him again, inflicting his rage on him with a similar viciousness that he did with me, only this time, his victim wasn’t dying.

Despite what I experienced with him before, his raw brutality shocked me.

No longer was this the man I knew in life, but the man warped by the trials of death.

Sprays of dark crimson were flying through the air as he drew his fist back again and collided with Devin.

This time, the struggling ceased, and he groaned, going limp.

“I-is he dead?” I stuttered, trying to unfreeze myself from the horrific scene before me. August stood up, wiping his bloody fists on his ragged shirt.

“Not yet,” he said, walking past me and into the living room. “Make sure the doors are locked.” I gave him a nod and watched as he yanked a cord from the wall, making my stomach jump. Before I could witness what would happen next, I followed his command, making sure no one would disturb us.

When I returned, Devin was bound to a chair in the middle of the living room, with the cord keeping him restrained.

There was a trickle of blood oozing down his nose, and his eyes were fluttering beneath his lids.

August stared down at him with his mismatched gaze, his expression full of hate.

He had probably waited his whole life to do this to Devin.

Glancing at the couch, I noticed a few things placed atop it—a knife, some twine, and a few other items I didn’t want to think about.

My hands went to my face again as I swore I felt myself sweating.

He wasn’t just going to kill him—he was going to torture him.

And for as much of a rotten person as he was, I wasn’t sure he deserved that level of brutality.

My legs began to tremble beneath me as I felt the tears that I was holding back earlier slip down my cheeks.

August took notice and walked over to me, taking my hand and kissing me.

“You’ll be okay,” he said with a reassuring smile. Devin let out a groan as he began to come back to consciousness.

“I don’t know about this…” My voice was barely a whisper.

August remained silent and only gave my hand a comforting squeeze.

I had a feeling that even if I put my foot down, nothing was going to change.

With all this talk of killing and taking the world, I wasn’t sure anything I would say would sway him.

Even if it felt a bit thrilling to have Devin at my mercy.

Deep down inside, something was exciting about this, even if I didn’t want to admit it.

“What the hell?” Devin said as he raised his head. “You two were dead…” A steady flow of blood was trickling down his face. He blinked a few times as if that would wash us away and return him to reality.

“ Were, ” August said with a smirk. “I came back just so I can fuck with you.” Devin’s face crumpled with rage as he struggled against the restraints.

His efforts were fruitless, and a sick excitement ebbed and flowed between the anxiety of the situation.

Once he realized he would not be freed, he looked up at him with a scowl.

“Fuck with me? Is that what this is?” he questioned. “You always were a scumbag, August.” A sinister smile crept across his face as he leaned in.

“Oh, it’s much more than that,” he beamed.

“I will ultimately watch you breathe your last breath. But we have to have some fun first, don’t we?

” He returned to his standing position and clapped his hands, making me jump.

I wasn’t sure how comfortable I was with what was going to happen next, or what my emotions were about it.

August was mischievous before, but this was different.

And in my past life, I would’ve never felt such a spark of delight watching Devin squirm, but now, seeing him at the receiving end of misery felt good.

August was right—being dead did change you.

But at least he was back, and that was all I wanted.

“I never liked you, Devin. I could always tell you were a shitty person,” he said, glaring down at him.

“So tell me, how many times did you call the love of my life a bitch during the time you thought she belonged to you?” My lips pinched.

I couldn’t begin to recall how often he said something awful to me.

If August knew the truth, Devin’s punishment would be much more painful.

But perhaps he did, and that was why he was doing this.

“Not enough times.” His face twisted with anger as more blood leaked down his chin.

“I’m not fucking scared of you, even if you’re supposedly dead.

I don’t know what sort of shit you two are pulling, but it’s not funny.

” With a familiar flick of his hand, August materialized a knife.

My lip was being pinched between my teeth, and I swore I could taste blood, even though it was my imagination.

Devin looked puzzled, but didn’t appear as shocked as I thought he would.

“You should be scared because we really are dead.” Before I could stop him, he placed the blade on his wrist and pierced his skin, dragging it down until his arm was opened and exposed.

Looking over his shoulder, I saw his pale flesh split and curl, revealing his white bones and the tendons stretched around them.

Despite this injury, there was no burst of red, and he appeared unfazed.