Page 3 of The Raven

Boogie

The Raven

Boogie scurried across the road, his surroundings blurred by the torrential rain as he darted into the mini-mart. Murderous rage swept through me, a rage so powerful that it almost took my breath away.

Scratch that.

I didn’t have breath to take away. To have breath would imply one was alive and breathing.

I wasn’t.

Funny really. I always believed that when you died, you went to a better place. A place where loved ones who had died before you went, and were waiting to spend all of eternity with you.

According to Oz, that place did exist. Those who died peacefully in their sleep, or surrounded by friends and family, went straight to the place in the sky…

or you know, wherever Heaven really was.

Those who died after living a life of sin went straight to hell to spend eternity as the devil’s plaything.

And then there were those who couldn’t pass on to the next world because they had unfinished business.

Like me.

No, I didn’t believe it either. Until Oz proved me wrong.

Truthfully, I was still coming to terms with the recent revelation, but time wasn’t on my side. I had less than a week to finish my unfinished business, or I would spend eternity in limbo, a place where only pain and loneliness existed.

I didn’t want to spend eternity in limbo, but that wasn’t the sole reason why I was waiting for Boogie to exit the shop so I could stalk him back to his flat.

I wanted vengeance.

To destroy all those who took everything I held dear to me.

And it started with Boogie.

He emerged from the shop a few minutes later, pausing in the doorway to find the rain was still coming down, heavier than before. In one hand, he clutched a brown paper bag containing a bottle of vodka. No doubt his second, or even his third, bottle of the day.

It seemed the events of last year had impacted Boogie in ways they hadn’t impacted the other Vipers, not that Boogie had shown any remorse. Instead, he’d turned to alcohol in a bid to block out his crimes.

Braving the rain, Boogie darted from the shop door, and hurriedly made his way along South Street toward his tiny studio apartment, his feet hitting puddles and splashing water up his legs.

I pulled my hood further over my head to hide my face as I followed him. Within a few seconds, the rain battered my clothes, plastering my long black hair to my face, and sending a chill down my spine.

Another misconception. I always thought that if ghosts existed, they couldn’t feel things.

But I felt everything.

Including the unbearable pain I’d been subjected to on the night the Vipers wreaked havoc.

The pain I would carry with me until every single person who was responsible for what they did were no longer breathing.

Boogie didn’t glance behind him once; his sole focus was on reaching his front door so he could lock himself away and drown his sorrows.

He kept his head down, the bottle clutched under his jacket as he dodged people, barely missing being hit by a car as he sprinted across the road to his apartment.

I followed, watching in amusement as he fumbled with his keys before dropping them.

When he bent down to pick them up, his head turned so he could look over his shoulder, his eyes scanning the street.

Across the road, I stared at him, and when his eyes met mine, hidden under my hood, a flash of fear passed over his face.

It was as if he knew he was being hunted.

Picking up his keys and finding the correct one, he dashed inside and out of the rain. I waited for a minute until the light in his top-floor apartment flicked on before I stepped back into the shadows, deciding to give Boogie a little longer to live.

He was an easy target; he’d drink himself into a stupor before he could try to fight back.

Not that I was worried about Boogie hurting me.

After all, the dead couldn’t die twice.

Boogie was the last idiot to join the Vipers. He moved to the town when he was twelve, quickly earning his nickname because of the giant booger hanging out of his nose on his first day of school. The nickname stuck, even twenty years later.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how you looked at it, the Vipers saw Boogie as an easy target and inducted him into their gang.

Sure, kids stopped picking on him, scared of what the gang would do if they continued to taunt Boogie, but Boogie was too stupid to realize that the Vipers were using him to do their bidding.

It started small, encouraging Boogie to steal from classmates, but in recent years, Boogie had served time in Hadleigh Peak Penitentiary for robbing a jewelry shop, set up by the leader of the Vipers, Grim.

I didn’t remember anything about Grim or Boogie, or the other Vipers. My memories from before were nothing but darkness, lost in the abyss, until Oz showed me select events from my past that I needed to remember.

It was a shame that Boogie had fallen in with the wrong crowd; the path he should have been on would have led him to a happier life, with a wife and three kids, a great job, and a big house with a white picket fence.

But Boogie made the wrong choice.

And now he would pay.

For what he did to me.

For what he did to Eric.

At the thought of Eric, blinding-hot agony pierced through the space where my heart should have been beating. My fiancé. The man who’d tried to protect me when the Vipers broke in and attacked us, only to have been brutally murdered right before my eyes.

Yeah, Boogie would pay.

They would all pay.

Gaining access to Boogie’s apartment was easy. The idiot didn’t lock his door. My theory that he’d drink himself into oblivion was correct; I found him passed out on his bed, loud snores and grunts erupting from him.

He didn’t stir as I got to work, preparing everything I needed for what I had planned.

When I was ready, I leaned over and slapped his face, hard enough to leave a print in the shape of my hand.

As he stirred, I sat on the wooden chair I’d dragged in from his living room and placed next to his bed, propping my feet up on the mattress.

His head lolled to one side as his bloodshot eyes fluttered open. Murmurs slipped from his mouth along with a drop of dribble sliding down his chin.

What a delight.

“Ra…Raven?” he slurred, his eyes narrowing on me, attempting to focus.

“Hey, Boogie. Long time no see, huh?”

He gulped like a fish, his head rolling as if he had no control over it. “Wha…what’s going on?” he said, slowly looking around the room.

I rolled my eyes.

Boogie was a mess.

He’d passed out after drinking three-quarters of the bottle of vodka, and attempting to eat a burger, only to end up wearing half of the contents on his bare chest, even spilling some of the grease and sauce on his already stained sheets.

The whole time he was knocking back vodka like it was water, he was oblivious to the raven perched on his balcony window, watching his every move.

When I’d made my decision to go back and finish what the Vipers started, Oz had produced a bird out of thin air like a magician. He explained that the raven would be my guide. She would lead me to where I needed to go, show me where I could find those who had taken my future from me.

Oz warned me, though. I was connected to the raven. If she got hurt, I would feel it. The message was loud and clear; if anyone discovered she was my weakness, I risked losing everything.

“You’re not Raven, you can’t be,” he mumbled.

“Why can’t I be Raven?” I replied, tilting my head to the side.

“You…you’re dead.”

I smirked. “Am I?”

He shook his head furiously as if he thought he was dreaming and needed to wake up. Attempting to move, his head whipped to the side when he realized that his arms were stretched out and his hands were tethered to his headboard, the same way his feet were bound to the footboard.

Bound and at my mercy.

“What the fuck is this? Let me go, you fucking bitch!” he squealed, the panic instantly sobering him.

He flailed around, trying his hardest to free himself from his shackles, and going as far as attempting to use his teeth to gnaw through the ropes tied around his wrists.

“Someone help!” he screeched when the ropes didn’t fray.

I watched in amusement as a wicked grin spread over my face. “Not very nice, is it, Boogie?” I stood, drawing his attention back to me. “You know, asking for help, and no one coming to save you. Just standing there. Watching you suffer,” I added, my tone conversational.

His lips curled into a snarl. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, you crazy whore!”

The tugging of the ropes began again, only this time it was joined by his legs flailing around too, his tiny cock flapping as he twisted.

Did I mention I’d stripped him of his pants and boxers?

He’d seen me naked; it was only fair.

I tapped my lips. “Don’t know what I’m talking about, huh?” Boogie’s eyes widened as I took a step toward the bed. “Allow me to remind you.”

Like an eagle diving on its prey, I leaped on the bed and straddled his chest, pressing my palms against his temples, just as Oz had done to me when he showed me what had happened.

Underneath me, Boogie’s body stilled, his mouth falling open, frozen in horror as I let the memories play.

“Boogie, please,” I whimper, tears streaming down my face as I try to block out the pain searing through my body, while Butch takes his turn to violate me.

Boogie holds my watery gaze, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. “Maybe she’s had enough,” he stutters, his voice barely audible over Butch’s grunts, my whimpers, and the laughter erupting from the others.

“I’ll tell you when she’s had enough,” Grim growls, glaring at Boogie. “Fucking bitch deserves everything she gets. So does this cunt.”

He kicks the lifeless form of Eric. The blood spilled from the gaping wound in his neck staining our cream carpet.

At least he only had to witness one of them rape me before his life ended.