Page 16 of Judas (The Lito Duet #2)
Chapter eight
Judas
A Few Weeks Ago
F or a child, her little body is heavy.
Not only did I have to physically fight Sadie in our initial interaction, but now she’s out so cold that waving rubbing alcohol under her nose didn’t cause a single stir. I’m sure someone has written a song about something like this, or perhaps a story.
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
HAH! Not likely, not this one. Sadie put up a hell of a fight, and as adorable as it was, perhaps Living Dead Girl is more fitting.
Lying there like a corpse, pale, motionless, and cool to the touch.
I almost had to search for a pulse until I saw her chest suck in a single deep breath.
After that, I knew things would get back on track swiftly.
Getting her out of the house was the easy part; it’s finding where to put her that’s the problem.
Before I was placed in prison, my only concern was the next kill and taking care of myself.
Now I have this sixteen year old girl to tote because she can’t be bothered to wake the hell up and cooperate.
Alas, when have things ever been easy for me?
I have half a mind to assume she’s going to be a nuisance—if she’s anything like the rest of our family, that assumption is on par.
That’s alright; I’ll just have to teach her how to channel all of that unbridled energy into something more productive for the both of us.
Perhaps to help draw her whore of a mother out.
There’s no way she won’t be hunting her down as soon as she steps outside of Bluitt.
I know her too well to consider anything less.
Outside of connecting with my sweet niece, finding family that hasn’t proven to be worthless would be a breath of fresh air.
We had to wait for darkness to descend to leave the house.
It would be quite alarming for the neighbors to witness a strange man carrying the body of a young girl over his shoulder as if she were a sack of potatoes, then disappearing down the road.
Now that it’s here, it’s time to move. I have already been in this house for far too long; seen too many happy memories that have further soured my mood.
Why—why can’t all families be like hers?
Disgustingly happy photographs hanging on the walls, participation trophies, souvenirs from vacations they’ve ventured on.
I was even lucky enough to find a few baby pictures of Sadie.
Her parents practically had a shrine made for this perplexing husk of a human.
I would say that I’d kill to have had the same opportunity as Sadie, to have been taken in by a family that protected and loved me.
Cherished by people who pushed me to be a better version of myself, not the brand of child who begged and pleaded for basic necessities.
Let’s face it, though, I’ve killed for less.
Hoisting her over my shoulder with a huff, she doesn’t make a sound.
She’s limp and nearly lifeless, which I know she isn’t because I checked her pulse a fright before lifting her up.
If it was steady and rhythmic then I knew I could get at least a little ways from the house without her trying to fight me again.
If it was already racing, I would have known she was awake and ready to strike.
. My plans for drawing Nadia out would have gone up in smoke, to say the least, had I killed Sadie instead.
With her bony hips digging into my shoulder, I step through the front door and onto the haint blue painted porch, closing the door behind me with a backwards kick.
The weather is clear tonight, meaning the moon will be strong and illuminating everything in the area.
Another singular setback but not unmanageable; we’ll need to be a bit more cautious of the shadows I squeeze both of us into. Other than that, we will be fine.
Well… as fine as we can be.
“Vicious little shit!” I shout, unceremoniously throwing Sadie into the trunk of the car.
Slight body crumpling against the stiff surface before falling to whatever surface is beneath her.
Her crying wails, Earth shattering through the fiberglass and the tempered windows of the car I commandeered.
Like a damn pirate on the open seas, stealing whatever I can find.
Just so happens, this one was sitting here open with keys as plain as day.
Maybe God is actually on my side this go around, won’t put all of my eggs in that basket though.
As I was about to put her in the back seat, the damn thing came awake like a rabid animal and another scuffle ensued.
She knocked me back so hard I lost my balance and my knees buckled—I’m sure there is probably gravel embedded in my backside.
Much like I did to her several hours ago, she was over me and swinging those frail little fists of hers.
She’s admirable, steadily fighting for her life, but at what point will she learn that I’m not necessarily here to kill her?
Well, yet. By the end of this all, all three of us will be lying together in an open grave.
Double-murder-suicide, anyone?
Mindful of the previous injury I gave her, I wrestled with her until there was just enough space to bring a knee up to her stomach.
Shoving it hard, hands wrapped up in the shirt she wore, I bucked her off my waist and tossed her over my head.
She rolled down the embankment beyond the perimeter of the unpaved parking lot.
The rustling of leaves and branches was the only sound that came afterward, and I about left her there.
Likely hurt and swimming in pain, until the demon urged me to go get her.
“Why? As long as she’s dead, I don’t give a fuck where her body is lying,” I argue.
You need them both. She may not be dead. Remember what I promised you, Lucien? The eternal mental torment if you fail in this? Need we start playing early?
“You’re just a voice in my head—“
The words were no further than the crest of my lips when everything went black, pain erupting in my head that brought me to my knees.
The only reason I recognized my shins hitting the ground was due to the gravel cutting through the denim of my pants.
It was blinding, the pain, but along with it was the insurmountable heat that felt as though it was scorching me from the inside out.
I didn’t forget, I remembered everything he promised, even if I feel as if a lot of them are empty and flowery-lies.
How could I? I’ve been around enough to know what type of torment could exist. This though?
His brand of torture, as he likes to call it, is exactly what he promises me.
In the beginning, I completed my chores under the guise of eternal bliss—he’s a treacherous being.
Living in God's grace is not part of the plan anymore.
He gave me a taste, the life I’ve experienced thus far a fraction of the hell he promises.
The screaming and crying of souls being shred apart and glued back together with a tar-like human broth was the most agonizing of the mind tricks.
My brain felt as though it was vibrating and thrashing around inside the thick of my skull, desperate to escape the piercing sounds of the damned.
Always hated noise.
It all ended as quickly as it started once I conceded to his control. The slightest bit of compliance is all the demon needs to keep me enslaved.
Scaling the embankment was more labor intensive than I thought it would be.
By the time we get to the cabin freely placed in my name—the deed part of the documentation tucked securely in the package that appeared on my bunk—I’m likely to be in better shape than I was when I first arrived at Darkwater.
All of this struggling, tossing our bodies around like pro wrestlers, now creeping down a cliff and dragging a body back up? Pfft.
When I made it to Sadie, she was being held back from tumbling further by a sapling that will likely lose its battle for sunlight in the coming years.
Starved of the photosynthesis it needs to survive and reach the top of the canopy.
The irony. I couldn’t help but laugh at that, her grunting and groaning contrasting the rumble of my chuckle.
After wrapping my hands around her ankles, I drag her back up the embankment, like a deer carcass.
Raking her through any type of debris I can.
Twigs, leaves, ant hills—I don’t care. We are nearly back to the car when she comes to again.
There is no damn way I am letting her get the jump on me for a third time.
Dropping her feet to the rocky car park, we shuffle and struggle to the closed trunk of the Civic.
With more fight than necessary, I reach under the little ledge protruding barely two or three inches over the license plate and hit the release button.
It takes zero seconds for her to go ballistic, twisting and thrashing in my hands.
Before I can stop her, she leans in and bites the absolute hell out of me, causing me to yell out.
My hands find their way into her messy platinum strands, with a yank I wrench her back from me.
I can feel her teeth rip through the flesh despite my shirt still being in the way.
Now, we are here. Sadie is kicking and screaming aggressively in the trunk, swirling around, rocking the whole vehicle and paralleling an alligator’s death roll— savage little thing.
Leaning against the trunk’s door, adrenaline courses through my veins, a high that’s difficult to explain. Each dose feels like a shot of heroin straight to the system, but simultaneously different depending on the situation.
Don’t ask me why I know how it feels, I’m not telling you a damn thing—nosey fuck.