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ELEVEN

SABBATH

“Foster.” My younger brother rotated in his bunk to face me. He looked so sleepy and peaceful. It made me sick seeing the comforts he was granted while I never had them myself.

“Sabbath.” He yawned. “Is it raining?”

I nodded. “It’s time.”

The boy’s face lit up, and he instantly jumped from the bunk.

“Is it really?” He was so eager. And I felt so guilty.

“Did mother send you to collect me?” I nodded again.

“Oh, she must be so excited!” He wobbled over to his luggage and opened the small suitcase.

Inside were his sacred robes and a small plague doctor mask.

“This is my father’s first hunt too, isn’t it?

” I nearly laughed at the mention of his father. “What’s so funny?” His smile fell.

I cleared my throat. “Nothing. I’m sorry.” Foster shot me a death glare, but I ignored it. “Do you have everything you need?” The boy nodded eagerly, completely forgetting what just happened. “Good. Get dressed. Mother is waiting.” Foster did as I asked.

My eyes moved around the quiet and dark cabin. The campers were all asleep, completely unaware of what was about to happen. At least they were safe.

Foster tugged at the sleeve of my leather jacket.

I glanced down at him and grew sick at what I saw.

He was wearing his black ritual robes and covered head to toe in darkness.

The mask and hat were a little too big for him, but he looked the part he was meant to play.

The part I should be playing. I hated myself for straying so far that he was bred and created with the sole purpose of fulfilling our mother’s need to birth evil into this world.

Unlike Ozzy, he didn’t stand a chance of ever escaping his fate.

“Sabbath? Where’s your mask?”

I didn’t answer but instead offered my hand to him and he took it. Together, we walked to the cabin door and stepped out into the storm in the direction of the woods.

I’m already wearing mine.