Page 48 of Grave Possession (Grave #2)

Chapter Thirty-eight

Mallory

G ravel crunches beneath my feet as I head towards the mill.

Lennox finally went back to work today, giving me some much needed breathing room.

Seeing him in the new captain uniform almost cripples me every time.

His uncle died trying to save me, and no matter what I do, I can’t outrun the feelings that suffocate me when I remember Oscar’s final moments.

I’m not able to escape the weight pressing down on me, powerless to outrun my nightmares.

Each one ends in my death, either by my own hand or Ted’s.

The underlying theme is the same in all of them though; he wants to claim me as his final victim and I should die.

I know it’s ludicrous to live in the past, but if I hadn’t been such a coward before and just offed myself, then the people I care about wouldn’t be hurting now.

Walks are supposed to be good for your mental health, probably not in this case though, since my destination is trauma related.

However, I don’t have access to Ted’s cabin since it’s still a crime scene, not that I know how to get there anyway.

But the mill has been released. I overheard Nox on the phone, setting up an appointment with a contractor to replace some floor boards and spruce up the place for the upcoming Haunt.

October is only two weeks away, and I need to confront my demons head-on before this place is crawling with people.

Crossing the parking lot to the front door, a shot rings out.

My heart thumps in its cage as I watch the memory unfold before me, like it’s happening right this second.

Nox’s uncle collapses to the ground in a spray of red, and Ted’s whoop of elation rings around the area.

My reality warps and twists, fusing with the echoes of the past. I push through it, turning away and rushing up the steps.

Gripping the scorching metal door handle, I crack one door open and slip inside.

There I am, naked, straddling Officer Johnson in the centre of the room as he cackles in my face. Blood spurts from his mouth as he coughs around his taunting words, splattering red across my skin.

Entranced, I watch myself lose control. Darkness encircling me as my eyes turn as red as the blood on my hands.

Fire tears through my veins, and I alight from within as I watch myself become this powerful, take-no-shit being.

It’s me, but I don’t recognize the look on my face, the confidence I exude, or the control that I wield.

I’m jealous of whoever I became in that moment. She’d be ashamed of the snivelling, broken thing I am now, too scared to even fucking sleep because he hunts me there.

Standing, she makes her way over to me, the sway of my hips hypnotic and seductive .

What the fuck? Stop checking yourself out.

I scrunch my eyes closed. This didn’t happen. It’s not real. My anxiety multiplies as I pray this whole scene disappears, and things go back to normal. I open my eyes.

“BOO!”

I’m a hair’s breadth away from my own face, so close I can smell my own sweet perfume mixed with murder. Blood drops stick to my eyelashes as red rivers run down my face, dripping off my chin.

Startled, I gasp, stumbling backward and away from myself. I trip over my own shuffling feet and fall, arms flailing, to the dusty, unforgiving hardwood floor. Pain shoots up my tailbone as I yelp from the sharp onslaught.

“What’s the matter? Scared of little old me?” she taunts. “You know I’m you…right?” Advancing on me as I back away, she corners me. “No matter how hard you try to run from me, you can’t really get away.”

“I’m nothing like you,” I spit.

“You got that fucking right,” she scoffs. “You’re weak. Always crying. Always in some kind of downward spiral or dissociative state.” Her words slam into me, each one a shameful truth. “You’re nothing like me,” she snarls, sizing me up. “But…you wish you were. It’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”

I’ve backed myself up against a wall and she smiles. It’s cold, calculated, and deadly. She’s going in for the kill.

“You like what you see, don’t you? You’re envious of me, of this version of yourself. If you’d embrace me instead of pushing me away, I could help you.” She extends her blood soaked hand, waiting for me to take it, and face myself on her level .

“How?” I say on a shaky breath.

“Let me show you.” Her voice is caring, almost pleading.

“I’m scared,” I confess.

“Of what?” She knows, she’s me. She just needs me to hear it from my own lips. Not as a voice incessantly ringing in my head.

“Of what it means,” I reply.

“It means you’re a killer, Mallory. You always have been. I let you smother me once, I won’t do it again.”

“What about Lennox?”

“He’s a killer too, more than you know.”

“What do you mean?”

“Honey, if you’re not ready to accept me…you’re not going to be able to handle the skeletons in his closet.”

Slipping my hand into hers, I grip it tight. “Is he hiding from me?”

“Do not accept me for him, do it for you, so you finally feel whole. Strong. Resilient. Powerful .” She pulls me up with a strength I didn’t know I had.

Placing my frigid hand against her heart, her skin burns me on contact.

“I’m that fire inside of you. The part of you that you need to survive this shit life you’ve been dealt.

I’m who you need to feel strong enough to overcome the trauma.

Stop hiding from me, let me in. I’ll keep you safe, I promise. ”

Her other hand brushes my hair back from my face, smearing warm blood across my cheek.

Looking into her eyes, I don’t think I’ve ever looked more sincere.

She wants me to live, and I believe her.

She’s why I never killed myself. She’s kept me alive this whole time, kept me fighting.

She’s the spark I felt inside when I did what I had to do in order to stay alive.

She’s the warmth I felt in my body when I killed a homicidal maniac.

She’s the fire in my blood, the snap in my tongue, and the strength in my mind.

She’s me. Always there, struggling to break free.

“Okay.”

“Yeah?” she questions.

“Yeah,” I verify.

She squeals with glee, and I can’t help but smile as I watch myself do an embarrassing happy dance, naked and covered in all kinds of gore.

Her body crashes into mine, embracing me in a crushing hug.

“This is going to hurt, but accept it so we can move on. Trust me,” she whispers, and I nod in agreement.

Her warmth pours into me, flowing through me, as she fades from view. Sudden and violent, bone deep despair tears at my soul. I drop to my knees, trying to quell the emotional tidal wave as my scream of anguish bounces off the walls of the mill.

Let it out, don’t bury it.

I force myself to let go, releasing everything that’s been holding me hostage inside my own mind.

My mother, Dennis, my absent father. The abuse, the assaults, feeling like I was worthless.

The never ending torrent of guilt, shame, and self-loathing.

Nox getting shot. His uncle losing his life.

Victoria being taken and tortured. The woman I cut open then killed.

Those things happened because of Johnson’s fixation with me, I did not cause them.

Slowly the agony ebbs away, the tears eventually drying up.

I feel lighter, breathing deeper than I ever have without this weight on my chest. I get back on my feet, and walk over to where Ted’s blood still stains the wood.

I killed him, a smile pulling at my lips.

Sinking to one knee, I run my fingers over the floor, feeling the gouges left by my savagery.

My other hand runs over my cheek, the cuts from his pocket knife have all healed, but I swear I can still feel them.

Under my fingers, I feel the imperfections disappear, the grip he has on my psyche fading away a little bit more.

“Hello, Sydney,” rasps from my pocket as my phone vibrates against my leg. “What’s your favourite scary movie?” Pulling my cell from my pants, I answer it.

“Hello, Ghost.”

A growl rumbles through the line, sending delicious tingles through my whole body. “Where are you, little siren?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Mmmmm, don’t play with me, baby.” Aww hell, his sex-soaked voice does wicked things to the area between my legs. A needy thump awakening immediately, like my body has been trained to respond.

“But it’s so fun. Can the big, bad stalker not find his obsession?” I taunt.

“Mallory…” the rough timbre of his voice ignites my desire in a millisecond.

“I think the better question is… Where are you?”

“Still at the office,” he says, voice changing from predatory Ghost to normal upbeat Nox in an instant.

“Oh, okay. I just went out for a walk. I’ll be home soon.”

“Okie dokie, toodles, gorgeous. ”

“Bye, goof.”

Click.

I take one last look around the mill, soaking up all that happened here and letting it roll through me. No longer getting snagged on every terrible thing that occurred. Crossing the dusty floor back to the doorway, I grip the handle and push it open.

The heavy wood is abruptly snatched from my grip and thrown open, a tall imposing shadow smothers out all the light.

His chest heaves as he blocks my exit. The forest green of his eyes glinting beneath the mesh of the mask in the bright afternoon light.

The tattoos on his hands snake up his arms, disappearing under his black t-shirt.

“Ghost,” I breathe, heart thumping in my chest as I wait with bated breath for what he’ll do.

His hand shoots out, grabbing my throat and squeezing just enough to make my pulse race faster.

I smile as he walks into me, aligning our bodies.

Nox leans in close, and my tongue darts out to lick the mask.

“So filthy,” he drawls, and my smile only grows as liquid heat pools at my core.

His other hand lifts the front of the mask before he crashes his mouth onto mine, devouring my very being, and stealing the breath from my lungs.

Ghost pulls away, slides his mask back into place, and releases my throat.

“Run,” he growls.