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Guilt

Gwen

T he door to her neighbor’s apartment was unlocked.

Gwen wasn’t sure if it was a good sign or not as she crept inside, but she’d worry about that later.

As quietly as she could, Gwen shut the door behind her before turning on her phone’s flashlight.

Turning on any of the lights could alert someone, and the last thing Gwen needed was one more fucking thing to go wrong.

The apartment looked the same way it did when she had last been there.

At least, at first glance.

Gwen noticed a trail of something where James’ body had been.

Upon closer inspection, the substance looked mostly clear, but was viscous.

Drool?

Gwen filed away that information as she slipped from the kitchen and toward the bed.

She had found the doll and scroll under the bed before.

Perhaps there were other unsavory things there that could actually help?

Dropping to her knees, Gwen bent forward, aiming her phone beneath the bed.

There was a collection of dust bunnies, hair, and the same porn magazines Gwen had accidentally found prior.

A pang of disappointment went through her frame, but she supposed it would be silly to expect to find information about a demon under someone’s bed—

Wait a goddamn minute.

Gwen pulled the porn magazines out.

The stack wasn’t massive, no more than seven volumes, but Gwen took her time to flip through them.

Eyes darting over more breasts than she had ever seen before.

She was starting to doubt her little weird hunch when a small receipt nearly fell from a centerfold.

Catching it, Gwen’s eyebrow raised.

The receipt from Master Basting was dated over a year ago, and the cashier was none other than Zander, Gwen’s missing former coworker.

It listed a single purchase of a pack of mints, an odd thing to keep in a porn magazine.

Or so Gwen thought, until she flipped the receipt over.

Someone had written a website address along with the words Ghost Haunt Hub.

It couldn’t have been Zander, as the handwriting didn’t match his messy scrawl.

If Gwen had to bet on it, though, she’d guess it was someone who cared about their handwriting.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Gwen whispered under her breath.

She pocketed the receipt and shoved the magazines back under the bed.

Maybe this website meant something or maybe it meant nothing.

Whatever the case, Gwen was quick to turn her phone light toward the small desk near the bed.

At the sight of the simple laptop, Gwen immediately opened it and booted it up.

A generic screensaver appeared, along with a prompt for a password.

Shit.

Gwen bit her lip.

She didn’t know shit about James Howard outside the fact that she was pretty sure he had eaten a part of her liver.

Gwen tried to calm herself enough to think, but Ambrosius’ life was on the line, and here she was playing detective.

But Ambrosius said to trust her intuition, didn’t he?

C’mon, Gwen, think! If you were a guy in your late thirties, what password would you use?

Her fingers hit the keyboard, quickly typing one word.

Boobs.

“Are you fucking serious?” Gwen whispered as the computer booted up the home screen.

“Fucking men.”

James Howard was apparently messy on his computer, too.

The home screen was littered with so many icons that it took her a moment to orient herself.

However, one particular file caught her attention.

Scroll.01.

Gwen opened the file.

The image of the scroll case flooded the screen.

James had taken a photo of it, but why?

Was this some weird documentation of his crimes?

Of how many things he had successfully stolen?

Gwen was questioning the possibility when she noticed that James had several internet tabs open.

“Okay, let’s see what you were doing— fuck! ”

The internet browser was open to a messenger board on Ghost Haunt Hub and on full display were pictures of the scroll!

The images were half assed, at least, making the script a little difficult to decipher at first glance.

In fact, it looked like a different language entirely.

Frantic, Gwen scrolled up a bit to read the headline.

Gwen froze, staring at the screen in shock.

James had fucking posted the scroll, asking for insight as to what it was because he wanted to sell it.

Her neighbor wasn’t just a thief, but a reseller!

“Oh, you fucking prick,” Gwen growled as she scrolled through the comments.

The discussion board spoke about the origin of the language used.

One user thought it could potentially be Ilocano, another said it was Korean.

The language discourse soon evolved into what the text actually entailed, with users giving their personal theories.

Gwen stopped at a comment with a zoomed in image of Ambrosius’ symbol and a long theory as to what it meant.

Her hands burned the more she read, and a hideous twist in her gut made her feel ill.

This was all her fault.

When Gwen entered her apartment, laptop in hand, she found Ambrosius eerily still on the bed.

“Ambrosius!” she exclaimed, panic lacing her voice.

“Are you—”

“I’m fine, I’m just resting my eyes,” he replied, eyes still shut.

“Did you find anything? ”

“I did,” Gwen murmured.

“And?”

“It’s all my fault … fuck, I killed you.”

Ambrosius’ tired gaze found hers and he frowned.

Gwen was blinking back tears, her expression twisted in pain that only grew worse as he stared at her.

“What happened?” he asked.

When her voice failed her, Gwen propped the laptop next to his head.

Angling the screen so he could easily see what she had discovered.

Ambrosius’ frown deepened, the light of the screen reflecting on the ink now encroaching his face.

“The Bound Obscene?”

“That’s you,” Gwen mumbled.

“Or, I think it’s you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I— fuck. ” She choked.

“James was stealing packages so he could resell them. He took photos of the scroll and posted them on this messaging board, trying to figure out what it was so he could sell it. People started talking, and—fuck. Shit.”

Ambrosius’ hand encircled Gwen’s wrist before sliding to hold her hand.

Here he was, offering Gwen comfort when she had fucked him.

Still, she owed him this much.

Owning up to what she had done.

“People started talking, and the theory around the scroll is that it’s lore on The Bound Obscene. A shackled devil who holds the truth. People believe that if you release this devil, you’ll unleash the truth into the world, which will lead to radical change. To release The Bound Obscene you have to perform a ritual that will summon the devil to this realm. You need five brides to summon him, and one human vessel to bind him to this world. Once he takes a vessel, he’ll pick a bride to impart his knowledge to.” Gwen swallowed back this saliva, tearfully looking at Ambrosius’ weakened body.

“Do you know how they start the ritual? They have to sacrifice a whore to the undead. Me , Ambrosius, the sacrifice was me.”

Ambrosius closed his eyes, exhaustion pulling on the lines of his face.

Yet, he didn’t let go of her hand and Gwen couldn’t bear it.

“It’s an internet cult, Ambrosius. Because I gave James the scroll, there’s an internet cult dedicated to you. The users on this website are rabid for you, there are fucking illustrations and it’s all my fault—”

“Gwendolyn, stop, ” Ambrosius commanded, voice pitching to that deep and unnatural tone.

For once, Gwen quieted without protest.

The demon opened his eyes, deep dark brown staring at her.

“There’s a reason why I never took on a warlock before now. It’s because my power is overwhelming to most humans. It causes them mental distress, the kind most don’t recover from. When humans used to speak of me on the islands, it would create hysteria, and it accelerated quickly. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

When she didn’t respond, Ambrosius pulled Gwen onto the bed until she was close enough for him to cradle her cheek with his free hand.

It was unnerving how frail his hand felt against her skin.

How sickly he appeared.

“I’m only going to say this once. You didn’t do this to me. Do you understand?” he asked.

Truthfully, Gwen could comprehend the words, but they didn’t alleviate the guilt.

If she could go back in time, and take back what she said about making him regret choosing her, Gwen would.

“You didn’t hurt me,” Ambrosius stressed.

“Humans did. Their influence over my being is exactly why I’ve been very careful about revealing myself to them. They think holy water and a crucifix will harm me? No, it’s their belief in those things that do. It’s their ideas and thoughts about me that shape me, Gwen. And the more humans know about me, the more dangerous their influence over me is.”

Slowly, Gwen nodded, pressing her forehead against his.

She took a moment to breathe, trying to regulate the overflow of emotions running through her body.

“Okay … so how do we stop them?”

Gwen knew her way around the internet, but she wasn’t tech savvy enough to wipe an entire messaging board clean.

If the internet was forever, how the hell were they going to scrub all traces of Ambrosius free?

“The knowledge of my existence has to be wiped from human consciousness. To put it frankly, you’ll have to kill for me … can you do that?” Ambrosius asked.

“Will you kill humans for me? But more importantly, will you kill them to keep yourself alive?”

It was a question that had a clear answer over a week ago.

Now Gwen let it weigh on her mind.

Yet, she found it to be as light as a feather.

A question that had only one answer when it came to the demon before her.

“Yes,” Gwen swore. “I’ll kill for you … just tell me what to do.”

“If these humans believe that I’m this … Bound Obscene, then it’ll only be a matter of time before I’m reborn as it. We know how it ended up on the internet, but do you know how your coworker is linked to all of this?” Ambrosius asked.

“I do,” Gwen said, reaching for the laptop.

She scrolled down to the very bottom.

“I’m pretty sure this user here is Sierra. The writing style sounds a lot like how she talks, and this is where the origin of the word bracelets come from.”

The photo attached were of several bracelets with The Bound Obscene written.

“Ugh, these are tacky,” Ambrosius grumbled.

“Whatever happened to a talisman? Or a tattoo?”

“That’s the thing you’re getting hung up on? Not the fact that Sierra is one of your supposed brides?”

Ambrosius blinked, sending Gwen an incredulous look.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, sorry, did you not read that part yet?” Gwen scrolled down the extended comment thread.

“See? Sierra’s claimed to be one of your brides. Apparently, she’s the one who organized the ritual. It’s written like it’s all pretend, but obviously that’s bullshit. She talks about gathering The Bound Obscene followers to perform the ritual, but she doesn’t say where. And I don’t know where she would do it, either!”

The delayed emotional response was starting to catch up with Gwen.

Her anger at Sierra resurfacing at the speed of sound.

Sierra hadn’t come over to apologize, she had come over to set Gwen up.

Because, in the younger woman’s mind, Gwen had slept with Tom, which made her the perfect person to sacrifice—

That fucking bitch.

“You know this woman, Gwen. Where do you think she would hold such a ritual? ”

“Fuck, I don’t know,” Gwen shifted on the bed, running her hands through her hair.

“Sierra’s in her twenties, she had a thing for our coworker, Tom—I mean, shit, when she’s not at work, she’s coming on her day off to hang out in the back of house.”

The amount of times Gwen had come across Sierra and Tom talking behind the palettes of boxes was more than she could count on her hands.

Gwen had always just assumed Sierra was still in the honeymoon phase of the job.

That short period of time where someone was all in for the company, hook, line, and sinker.

Ready to drop everything at a moment’s notice for the job, to the point where their personality was just the job.

“Do you think she would be bold enough to hold the ritual there?” Ambrosius asked.

“I…” Gwen frowned. “Yeah, actually I do.”

Sierra was bold enough to lie to her face about spreading rumors about her.

Bold enough to send her dead neighbor over to sacrifice her to a devil who was really Gwen’s patron and lover.

“Okay … here’s what we’re going to do.”