Page 27

Mania: State of mind where everything is too fast. Unable to process, or comprehend anything around.

I lived my entire life in slow motion.

Fallon wasn’t fighting me anymore. Her form of mania had completely stalled because of the sound of that cry in the distance.

“Xavy!” She shouted, running at the muddy wall mound where we were trapped. Her feet kept sliding down, but she kept trying over and over to climb up the terrain.

“Stop,” I said in a calmer tone that I had felt all night.

It still killed me to look at the bruises on her body, knowing my own fucking hands were the cause.

“Let me help you, Little Voyeur.”

She looked back over her shoulder and glared at me. “Fuck off, nut case.”

I deserved that.

After a few more failed attempts, I couldn’t take it anymore. I judged the height of the hole. I could see the ground at my eye level, but barely. Sighing, I picked up the manic woman and accepted her flailing and smacking my body.

“Hold the fuck still before your ass is slammed back into the mud, and that baby has to wait even longer,” I said, my tone not leaving room for argument.

I was so damn tired.

She stilled for a minute while I adjusted her over my head.

“But w-wait!”

I threw her back onto the solid ground, her body sliding on the mud like a water slide.

I couldn’t get out.

I was stuck in this fucking hole.

She wasn’t strong enough to pull me out, and there was zero chance of me getting my seven-foot four-inch ass up the mound.

The best I could do was watch her from the grave and nod my head in respect to the body of her fallen family member.

That killer was a fucked up individual. I knew ‘crazy’ . I ate potato surprise with crazy for six fucking years, but not even Hospital Twelve housed whackos that cut babies out of people and then killed the mother.

We may all be criminals, but even nutballs had a code of honor-well, except Kristiyan, Everett, Joe, and all the other fucked to hell fruit loops in the sensitive unit. They were barely even human beings anymore, so caring about a soul would mean having at least a hint of one.

Joe…

That fucking asshole made my head spin. To imply that Ariah…and my sweet Little Flower weren’t one of his many trophies was asinine! He was never shy to brag about his kills. Hell, he whispered the fucking names in my ears as I slept.

Every damn person he’d touched for the six years I had known him, he would list off in my ear!

Joe was practically born at Hospital Twelve.

He was there before, and a good majority of even the oldest staff was there.

It wasn’t like I could call up ‘four-one-one’ and inquire who he disposed of while he was alive.

“I hate you.” I breathed into the wind. I don’t know if I was talking to Joe…or myself.

To admit that the fuckhead was telling me the truth was unthinkable. If he didn’t kill the love of my life and my wife…then who did?

The thought chilled me even more than the crying in the night that increased in volume.

I called out to Fallon, angered that I couldn’t get out of here and fucking help her.

What if the killer was using the baby as bait?

What if it was a recording or some other baby?

Did they know we were here?

She had been yelling my fucking ear off, so it wasn’t like anyone within a close distance couldn’t hear us.

Maybe the dead mother on the ground had heard us, running this way to seek help.

Did she recognize Fallon’s voice?

“Little Voyeur?” I called out. “Hate me later. Just let me know you’re not hacked to pieces by a murderer, okay?”

Silence. Not even the cries of the baby were heard anymore.

What the fuck?

“Fallon,” I said, a little louder than before, peeking over that lip of earth—still nothing. My heartbeat picked up, my breathing puffing out in small little clouds from the colder weather. “This isn’t funny,” I said, my body shaking.

The more times I called for her with no answer, the more I felt like I was sinking in the mud below my feet. It was like quicksand, sure to drown me little by little.

I walked over to the broken fragments of the wooden coffin, trying to sort through the piles to find a long piece big enough to withstand my weight and the pull of the wet, muddy ground.

Anchoring myself, I stepped up onto the slab and leaned forward toward the top of the hole.

It took a few times before my footing held, and I finally reached one of the metal bars that held up the coffin before.

Maybe this wasn’t an accident. The killer could have set up the coffin, knowing it would be lowered soon. He could have led that woman to this area and waited for nature to bury her along with the other dead.

I dug my boots into the side of the muddy wall and pulled myself up to the surface. Not taking any time, I ran toward the area where I had heard those cries. It was still raining, and as I ran, my eyes were blurred from the fucking droplets.

I could see her muddy footprints. Those pointy heels she always liked to wear left a hole in the ground. Following the trail, my blood ran cold when I saw it.

“No!”

Running faster, I dodged sticks and branches as they scraped my arms and face—anything to get to her. My Little Voyeur had interfered with the wrong monster now. I just hoped she was okay.

“Tick-tock, sleeping doll. We meet again.” The sound of the woman made my blood go cold.

What. The. Fuck.

Beelining toward the voice, I saw her through the tree line.

The twin from the asylum, Emmy, was holding the baby in her arms. Fallon was on the ground, her chest covered in blood. I couldn’t tell if she was hurt.

The baby was fussing but looked unharmed as opposed to being naked and covered in blood as well.

Maybe it was his mother’s blood…

“Shhhh! You will wake the baby. Don’t wake it.”

Emmy was never like this. She was such a sweet girl back at the asylum. A little mad, but aren’t we all?

How the fuck did she even get out? I had heard her sister Lemmy died, but I never dreamed she would succumb to this. She sounded exactly like Tick-Tock, Joe.

Was this real? Was it in my mind?

I shook my head, running my hands through my hair. Emmy looked up at me, her red hair wild and her eyes bloodshot and unblinking.

“What happened to you?” I said, holding my hands up in surrender.

She tilted her head and looked over to Fallon.

“Sleeping doll. Soldier wants to play with ‘sleeping doll?’”

I blinked, trying to figure out these riddles. I never could crack Joe’s mania. How was I supposed to crack hers, which was now a carbon copy?

“I…I want her to be safe. And the baby. Emmy, let me take the baby. He’s cold.”

The girl twitched, those bugged-out eyes locking on my own.

“Emmy…” she repeated, startled by the name.

“I’m sorry about your sister, Lemmy. I really am. I know she was your everything. I would be lost without my siblings, too. Please let me take the baby.”

I was speaking slowly, walking toward her carefully. She tracked me like a snake about to strike.

“Emmy, not sleeping doll. No, no, no! Emmy is Tick-Tock, too.”

I was trying to figure out what the fuck she was saying when Fallon lunged at her. “Give me my nephew, you freak!”

Emmy’s arm came out, and Fallon flew backward like a board, falling on her back. I reached for her, but Emmy laughed, her eyes locked onto Fallon’s.

“Tick-tock, sleeping doll. Tick-tock, one, two, three.”

Fallon squinted, holding her head, and winced.

“Tick…tock…o-one.”

I watched in disbelief as Fallon looked entranced, repeating Emmy’s words and yet fighting with herself.

What the fuck was going on?

“Emmy, stop it!” I roared, lunging for the baby.

Emmy halted me, breaking her gaze from Fallon only to lock those eyes on mine. Instantly, a massive headache slammed into my head, my temples throbbing.

“Tick-tock soldier, Tick-Tock. Come to me.”

I blinked, Xenia and Joe’s forms standing beside her. They were flickering like an old TV channel that wasn’t fully catching the signal. Their bodies were not speaking, just standing blankly like they were tethered there.

“Tick-Tock. You belong to me,” the twin continued.

Holy fuck, my head hurt.

“Stop it!” I finally reached her and tried my best to be gentle as I pulled the baby from her arms.

Her body went rigid. The moment the baby left her grip, it was like a light socket flipped off, and she fell face-first into the muddy ground.

Xenia and Joe were watching me, their bodies slowly going back into focus as the throbbing in my head dissipated.

“Fucking hell! What the actual fuck was that?”

Fallon was fuming, getting off the ground, and running over to me to take the baby. She stuck him inside her shirt, trying to shield him from the rain.

“I…don’t know,” she said, some of the steam draining out of her.

This whole night was a goddamn mess. I reached into my pocket and snagged my phone. I dialed my brother’s number.

He answered after calling a million times with his expected gruff, sleep-filled tone. “Bro, I know you stay up with the dead, but after fucking my girl within an inch of her life, I sleep. You fucking vampire.”

I sighed—typical Lith.

“Dude, shut up and listen. I have had a fucking hell of a night. Not any of it good, so do me a favor and shut your whipped ass up.”

Goliath snorted but quieted.

“I just ran into fucking Emmy. She must have gotten out. I thought you locked that shit up tight, man what the fuck?”

Goliath was getting up, and the sound of his shuffling was heard in the background.

“What are you talking about? She is locked in her damn cell. Are you on something?”

I frowned. “Goliath mother fucking Benson Masters. Go to your goddamn nut house and see for yourself. She’s missing! I am staring right at her.”

Goliath was silent, and hushed tones were exchanged between Ezello and him.

“You see her, right?” I said to Fallon, praying I wasn’t actually imagining another fucking person from my past.

Fallon raised an eyebrow, shushing the baby and glaring at me.