Page 135 of Their Little Ghost

I step closer. Sarah’s cries echo around the empty room as she crawls away, backing herself into a corner against the kitchen cabinets. There’s no escape.

Suddenly, a voice buried deep in my subconscious screams at me to freeze.

“No.” I halt. “I can’t.”

“Twenty-Five.” Acacia lowers his voice in warning. “That was an order.” He jabs the red button on the remote multiple times. So many times that I lose count. “Kill her!”

I blink.

Acacia’s orders fill every crevice of my mind, echoing like a mantra.

Snap her neck.

Snap her neck.

Snap her neck.

I corner the crying girl. She begs for her life, but her words are nothing more than background noise. All that matters is doing what Acacia wants.

Kill her.

A quick twist, snap, and jerk is all it takes.

“Very good, Twenty-Five,” Acacia says. “Very good.”

His praise fills me with pride while Sarah’s lifeless body lies at my feet.

He hands me the keys. “Wait in the back of the van. I’ll be with you soon.”

Wait.I step over her corpse, putting one foot in front of the other.Wait in the back of the van.

All my emotions are muted. I’m aware of what I’ve done, but I can’t do anything about it, nor do I feel any guilt—or anything at all, for that matter.

I wait in the back of the van in the pitch black, as instructed, until Acacia returns. I’m not sure how long he takes. It could be ten minutes or an hour. When he cracks open the doors, he’s red in the face, struggling to haul a long object wrapped in black plastic by himself.

“Take this end,” Acacia instructs.

I wince as the package hits the van floor with a thunk. Together, we heave it into the back.

“Don’t make a sound,” Acacia warns. He shows no remorse or sadness for his daughter’s death, only impatience. “I’ll be back.”

A strand of hair pokes out of the edge of the black plastic, and my stomach churns.

Her body is still warm.

Sarah.The girl I love.Dead.

Acacia returns a few minutes later with a shovel. He throws it at me, then slams the van door closed and leaves me with her.

I’m catapulted to an early memory, recalling my mother’s lifeless body lying at the bottom of the stairs after my father pushed her. I pull Sarah’s head onto my lap and stroke her hair as we drive. It’s the last time I’ll ever touch her. I want to be able to cry and apologize. I want to tell her how much she means to me and make these last precious seconds together count, yet numbness swallows me once more. I say and feel nothing.

I cradle her as the van speeds over bumps, trying to protect her, even though I know it’s too late and I couldn’t save her when it really mattered. The silence is punctuated by Acacia raving outbursts from the front. Usually, he’s so controlled and meticulously plans every action. Now, he could be one of his patients.

The journey seems to last forever and take no time at all while I’m suspended in a surreal cerebral state, unsure whether this is even happening. Eventually, we stop, and Acacia wrenches the doors open. Moonlight streams in. Sunnycrest looms behind him like a sinister background in a gothic horror. We’re parked in an unloading bay, although it’s usually canned goods people are carrying instead of corpses.

“Carry the package.” His words come in a breathy rush, and craziness lurks behind his wild eyes. “Fucking move!”

I sling her body—the package—over my shoulder, and follow him. He stalks through the building, and I struggle to keep up with his relentless pace. We weave through the empty corridors. Our footsteps, my breathing, and Acacia’s swiping key card admitting us into a restricted area are the only sounds I hear.