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𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 : 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐋

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Black dots threatened my eyesight and I fought the urge to pass out as my back hit the wall behind me. I'm sure he didn't anticipate this reaction because he blinked and the demon eyes were gone and he was worried.

Worried for me, are you? Worried and concerned for your prey?

My knees were weak and I really hoped I didn't faint, because I wasn't sure what he'd do if I was unconscious. I wouldn't know if he'd kill me or just leave me there for someone else in his little group.

How I didn't recognize him, was beyond me entirely. How handsome I had thought he was, how I believed there was something deep between us made me feel absolutely mortified. Was this how it felt to die of embarrassment? To completely want to run and hide forever?

He waved his hand in front of my face, snapping a few times to try and get my attention. But I couldn't get myself to meet his eyes because I was afraid if I looked anywhere other than his chest, I'd surely lose my balance and that would be even more embarrassing.

But I couldn't stop him from forcing me to make eye contact with him, forcing me to look up as he took hold of my face. He was speaking, mouth moving but I could barely hear him over the growing static in my ears and the flashes of gray that were fighting to the surface as I heard the voices more clearly than his.

"Run! Girl, what are you doing?! Run!"

"Can't trust him, don't trust him, not yet."

"The devil! The devil is here!"

The gray vanished and I was surprised to see Crow so worried, to have him holding my face so tenderly up at his. But I couldn't forget what was at stake, what all I had learned in the past few days as I said numbly, "You killed my dad. You-you killed him."

He blinked, as if he was surprised that I had called him out like this.

So I said it again. More forcefully. "You killed my dad. You fucking murdered my dad!"

I hadn't realized I had pushed him away until he was stumbling backwards and I was rushing at him like a dog off a leash. My purse fell somewhere behind me as I swung my fists with more strength than I thought, knocking a punch to his jaw before swinging back and going for his nose.

I heard a crack and I felt something wet hit my knuckles as he grabbed onto his nose with an animalistic cry. I rounded my fist back, thrusting it forward again but it didn't get far before he grabbed my wrist, stopping me.

"It's not that simple, okay-" he started but I was shaking my head, refusing to listen any further as I shouted, "You killed my dad! You probably even had something to do with my mom, you're-you're-"

"I'm a what?" he hissed, dropping my wrist with an aggressive sneer on his face.

I didn't want to call him a monster. I didn't even want to call him an asshole, a jerk, or anything to give him any reason I cared that much.

"Why so quiet?" he smiled, wiping dark blood from his mouth and underneath his nose. "Suddenly scared to be alone with me?"

There was a slight shake to my hands that I hadn't noticed were balled up by my sides. I shook with a soft rage, threatening to overflow and attack all over again. I was vulnerable alone in the dark morgue. He knew how to lurk, to strike at the perfect moment, he was a trained killer after all. I wasn't safe here, but that didn't stop me from running my big mouth, of course.

"This was why you didn't want me to see your face," I whispered, voice coming out as a low emotional croak. "You knew I'd recognize you from all those photographs I've seen, the ones you've been leaving around for me to find."

"Yes, but-"

"But what?" I erupted and I could only wonder who would be able to hear me from down here.

He sighed, shaking his head. "It's hard to explain, but everything that happened-" he stopped himself, rubbing his face and I noticed that his nose had stopped bleeding. His blood doesn't even look red down here. "-Blaire, it had to happen this way."

"Oh, I'm sure it did," I rolled my eyes. I wished I had something to protect myself with, even the dull blade of a pocket knife would be helpful. "Let me guess, this closed door behind me, is it your office?"

He nodded.

"And the church? Yours too?"

"Yes, but Victor and I share it."

So Macabre was a part of all this like I suspected. I wondered why he didn't just attack me at the hospital or lure me away from the funeral to do something instead. "I'm going to kill you." The words flew from my mouth before I knew they had any meaning or understanding at all.

"Before we kill you?" he laughed, challenging me. He had every upper hand possible, but I couldn't let that stop me. He killed Cage and he probably had something to do with my mother too, I was almost certain of it. "Good luck with that."

I backed up until I found my purse, bending down to grab it as I said, "I don't know what you're planning or what any of this really even is, maybe it's just some big game to you but listen up-" I stood, slinging my bag over my shoulder. "-you're not going to get away with it, with any of it. All those people you murdered in the fifties, sixties, whatever, you're going to finally pay for it."

"And how do you plan on doing that?" he had his hands on his hips and I could only imagine the rage hiding behind the darkness.

"By killing you," I smiled, backing away and towards the staircase. My heels made a pleasant sound against the floor, the only noises in the room where the clicks and his heavy breathing.

When I reached the stairs and I began to climb them, I heard him call out from below, "Expect a late night call from me, Blaire!"

I frowned as I pushed open the basement door and back into the lighted hallway. I let the door shut behind me slowly and I rested against it for a moment, catching my breath. How the hell was I going to kill them? How was I going to kill anyone?

I felt nauseated and fought the urge to race into the bathroom, brushing some of my fallen hair from my face. I wanted to be alone, to run out the back door and get into my car and just drive away. I could easily escape all of this, to drive off and never come back.

Crow planned on killing me, his entire organization did. So how was I going to kill the killer? How was I supposed to even hurt someone like that? To strike them down? To cut and carve into them? The idea of driving a knife through another person's body left the back of my neck and cheeks coated in a cold sweat.

Maybe I could get a gun-

I shook my head, rubbing my forehead because I shouldn't have to think of these things. This wasn't something a normal high schooler thought of, especially at a funeral.

I made it back to the pews in a state of blind numbness, not even realizing that I was sitting down and listening to Macabre ramble at the podium. Time passed differently as I sat there with one leg crossed over the other. I had barely even noticed Pandora sit next to me and take my hand, I barely even heard what she whispered to me.

I wanted to watch the hallway I had just left. I wanted to stalk and wait until he finally crept out from the basement. The need to see him in the brightness of a lit room was shockingly primal. For me to be the one lurking, so I could see him for who he truly was. He couldn't hide out here in the light with all these watchful eyes.

I thought for a moment I had seen John, somewhere across the room seated with Ace. I was almost positive I had seen the pair together, sitting alone with complicated looks on their faces.

When I drew my eyes back to the front, Macabre was walking down two little steps and men I had never seen before approached the casket. They picked it up with ease and began to walk it towards the front doors that were now open. Pandora ushered me to my feet and we followed the pallbearers out. I gave the people in the pews small smiles of thanks before I exited promptly and leaned against the railing, Pandora catching my arm.

"Let me drive you," she said. It wasn't a question nor a request, she was simply going to do it whether I said yes or not.

I gave her my keys and we walked to my car and it must've poured because everything was wet and humid. The air left a thin layer of moisture on my neck and cheeks as we crossed the street. Pandora was speaking to me but I barely heard her as my eyes caught small glimpses of Ace and John getting into a car together farther off in the parking lot.

They weren't friends, as far as I knew. Having been with the same girl, I wouldn't doubt that had put a rift between their friendship. Yet, they were here together, getting into the same car. I was glad that I had actually seen the pair together inside, I was afraid I'd just made it up and mistook someone else for him. But this time I was certain.

It was John. His brown hair swept across his head from the wind beginning to pick up. He was wearing an all black suit and the material clung to his body. He took a swift glance around before ducking into the passenger seat of Ace's car.

"Blaire?" Pandora murmured, her cold hand touching my arm. "You hear me?"

I shook my head with an apology as I said, "Got lost in thought." When I looked back, the car was already gone.

She gave me a concerned smile but continued with, "I just asked about whether or not you want me to come back with you to your house after the burial?"

"What about John's party though?" I asked, getting into the passenger seat and she slid comfortably into the drivers.

"Are you sure you want to go? I'd be glad to just have a girls night on your couch-"

I shook my head. "No, it'll be good to get out of the house, even just for an hour."

"Whatever you want sounds good with me," she smiled, starting the truck.

Bellenau, which was pronounced bell-A-no, was thirty minutes down the highway. It was one of the larger towns in our district, with strip malls and diners and bars, but it was mostly used for the large cemetery near the edge of town. It was the only cemetery, to be exact. It was named after one of the founding families, just like how the cemetery was named after another, Rose Hill. Bellenau and Rose Hill were the oldest parts of the district, but it was completely modernized over the past two decades, bringing in more attractions and sights and most importantly, nightclubs.

I hadn't taken a trip out here since Cage. I hoped Macabre made arrangements so my mother could be buried next to him. I hadn't thought through that much since he called and made the plans, I hadn't thought much at all.

It was hard to get my head around the fact that Crow was calling me. That he was real and surprisingly looked young and handsome. How easy it was, for me to be tricked and to be played with. How a gentle voice misled me.

"Want to know what Ace and I found while you were missing for fifteen minutes?" Pandora asked, shaking me from my thoughts.

I nodded, not peeling my eyes away from the window and the foggy gray we passed as the rain came down harder.

"Jack shit," she said back. "Absolutely nothing. Found a couple empty offices, but with nothing inside them to tell us if they were evil or not."

"Find out any of their names?"

"Yeah, but I don't really remember them that well," she sighed. "Last names were something along the lines of West, Tobias, and, uh, I think something having to do with a rock?" I caught a glimpse of her shaking her head then shrugging out of the corner of my eye. "But are you going to tell me what held your attention for nearly fifteen minutes? There really couldn't have been something that exciting down the hallway you went. I mean, come on, there was a kitchen and a bathroom down there, not much else, right?"

"There was a basement," I mumbled, instinctively forming a fist with the hand that rested on my leg. "The morgue."

"Anyone down there?" she let out a hollow laugh before continuing, "You're giving me nothing here."
"Found Archer Crow and his office."

"Okay, so you found his office-wait, wait, you said and?" She pressed on the gas, taking the fast lane to get around the slow truck in front of us. "That means you found him and his office. Both?"

I nodded, watching the passing trees. The devil is here, one of the disconnected voices had said to me in the basement and I wasn't exactly sure if it had meant him, someone else entirely, or the tarot card that was suddenly weighing over me.

"He was..."

"Was what? Hotter in person? Evil? An asshole?"

I laughed and that must've been her goal as I shook my head with a smile. "Very handsome but also, very evil, kind of arrogant. He killed my dad, probably killed my mom too--"

"But your mom was suicide--"

She would never have left me like this. She would never have chosen to abandon me...would she?

"Not if she had been forced to do it," I explained. "She got an unknown call that night before she..." I took a deep breath before muttering, "...before she did what she did. Turns out, that unknown caller was Crow, so what does that tell us?"

This time, it was Pandora who sighed loudly. "That he must've had something to do with it, or someone did at least. But, you really saw him? The Archer Crow?"

"In the flesh."

"What was it like?"

She turned off onto a side road, towards the cemetery. "Exhausting. Shocking. Kind of told him I'd kill him. Emotional. Somewhat romantic--"

"You said what?!" she yelled, nearly slamming on the breaks and I could see her grip on the steering wheel tighten as a look of panic crossed her face.

"I got really overwhelmed and kind of, well, told him I was going to kill him and his group," I confessed sheepishly.

"How-how are you going to do that? How are we going to kill them?" she was near breathless as she spoke. "I cried when I hit a squirrel one time, like, how am I supposed to kill a person?!"

"I-I don't know," I whispered. "But you won't have to come near them at all, it's not your job, okay? I'll do it, somehow."

"Somehow?"

"Maybe I'll just get lucky and shove him in front of an oncoming bus like in Mean Girls."

"But Regina didn't die--"

"I'll make sure it's a really big, fast truck."

Pandora laughed and I felt more at ease, although my stomach was still churning and there was a slight headache coming in. I didn't want to see any ghosts, especially not now. I wanted to get to the cemetery, lay my mother to rest and then go home. I wanted to lay down, to rest for at least an hour.

But we were already here. Slowly arriving, driving through the windy roads of the cemetery. Rose Hill looked beautiful, huge willowing trees, beautiful flowers and gardens hidden throughout. There was a large arcing sign that read 'Rose Hill Cemetery' is cursive writing. It was being overrun with vines and large trees, making it look more eerie and peaceful than it's sad and haunting realness.

The moment Pandora parked the car behind the small train of people who were attending, I got out and was sucked into the now oh-so familiar gray. The world was hazy and strange out here in the cemetery and there were more ghosts than I had hoped. They moved slowly, hunched over themselves, like their souls were the ones decaying.

Bloody and battered, some of these ghosts weren't from this decade, or even the few previous. Their battle garb and tattered uniforms told me they were from before my time entirely, dating back to probably even the Civil War. Surprisingly, even a few had rifles strapped to their backs.

War and death, blood and gore, hand in hand.

The older ones took no notice of me as much as the recent spirits, whose heads turned the second they appeared. There was a mix of old and young, mostly old. But my head couldn't take this amount of activity, and when I blinked, the gray was no longer there. It was just a graveyard on a cloudy day, no longer anything special.

"Want me to go up with you?" Pandora asked, coming up to my side.

I shook my head. "You can go home, honestly. I've got it from here."

"I'm not going to leave you," she said, one hand going to my arm.

I felt so fragile here. Alone but not really, not at all. "No, it's okay, I swear. I think-" I took a deep breath, shaking my head. "-I think I need to do this alone."

The hermit was screaming out to me, begging me to go towards that open grave alone. Pleading for me to stand at it's opening and to watch it happen myself, just how I did with Cage. Watching the coffin lower, to spill a handful of dirt atop it's oak chest. Was this the card's fault? Making me yearn to go alone? Or was it just myself, something that I desired way before the reading?

"You go on ahead, Panda," I whispered, giving her a reassuring smile. "Text me when you're ready to go to John's later."

She nodded, stepping back to lean against my car. She handed me my car keys and took her phone out, calling her mom. I slid my keys into my purse and took a shaky step forward and into the grass. My heels sunk slightly in the wet ground but I kept walking, hoping I was keeping my composure as I approached the grave.

Macabre would be purchasing a headstone, with her name on it, along with her birthday and death date and a little engraving of 'loving mother' below it all. If he wasn't some evil scumbag, I'd feel grateful to him.

We didn't agree to have a ceremony here, just a burial, it was what was easiest.

It was what was quickest.

I stood silently over the empty grave, the walls weren't made from cement like some were in bigger cities and towns, this was just an empty dirt grave, nothing special and nothing more. I heard a car start up somewhere behind me and I caught a small glance of Pandora getting into her parent's Honda and driving away.

I half expected them to stay, or maybe someone to take her place. I just really wasn't expecting to see him again, so soon after our first encounter. He was there just for a moment, standing with his hands in his pockets and staring at me from his spot on the other side of the small road. Another car drove past and he was simply gone, vanishing with the moving vehicle like he had somehow slipped inside without the car ever braking.

I thought I had imagined it as I turned back to the burial, the wind picking up and blowing the loose strands of my hair across my face and raising a chill over my bare arms and legs. But I felt his presence next to me and I wanted to face him, take his by the collar and demand answers.

Why me? Why follow me here? Hadn't I made myself clear enough?

"Where are your friends?"

His voice shocked me, but not enough for me to show a visible reaction. His words were smooth and low, like he thought he was doing something good by coming here. Like this made up for everything he'd done.

"Told them I didn't need them here," I finally responded, rolling my shoulders back, trying to ease the tight tension building up. "So why are you?"

"Louise was an amazing woman-"

"That's not what I asked."

He let out a soft laugh and I scowled, I would not be drawn in by his laugh, his smile, his anything. He was a killer, he killed my family. "She deserved an audience, don't you think?"

He stepped forward and I hadn't noticed the red roses in his hands before now. He crouched down and dropped one onto the coffin that had been lowered inside and he held his last flower out for me. I reached forward, my fingers trembling slightly as I took it. The red was ruby, blood like. He stood as I bent down, overcome with a hard rush of emotion that I prayed he wouldn't see as I drew my lips in to stop the crying.

The rose dropped and it hit the coffin with a soft thud. I let a tear slide down my cheek as I stood, brushing it away with the back of my hand. I watched one of the gravediggers scoop up a large chunk of dirt and he threw it down inside the hole. It created a small ring of dust as it started to settle, only for him to throw more down.

I let my eyes travel over to the headstone that stood under the tent, the one that called out to me like a strong vibration of panic and deep torment. I couldn't escape Cage even if I tried.

Crow was standing close behind me and I felt as though he'd draw out a knife, stab me in the back and throw me inside the grave. To die alongside my mother would be all too sweet, but I knew he had worse plans for me. Something better, something darker.

"Driving yourself?" he asked me in a cool voice, like I would allow him to take my keys.

"Why are you really here, Crow?" I asked, reaching into my small purse and pulling my cigarettes and lighter out. I pulled a single coffin nail from its box and placed it in between my lips. "I thought I made myself pretty clear in the morgue."

I cupped a hand in front of the cigarette and lit it carefully before slipping both the box and lighter into my purse. I took a long drag in as I stepped back and sat down on one of the neighboring headstones. It eased the tension in my feet as I rested, feeling the sting of the smoke enter my throat and then my lungs. I nearly coughed too but with him standing next to me, I held back.

The smoke came from my nose and mouth in light streams and I nearly burnt the whole thing out in one long drag but he held out his hand delicately. I passed him the cig and he took his own long drag, flicking ash off the end as he shrugged at me. "Can't seem to stay away from you, something about keeping an eye on the number one on my list of enemies and problems I need to take care of."

"I'm number one," I rolled my eyes. "How sweet, you really think I'm plotting to kill you right this very moment that you had to follow me here? Keep an eye on me?" I shook my head and he handed the cig back. "I'm burying my mother right now, I'll plot tomorrow and so should you."

He laughed and I glared.

"What's so funny?"

"Just didn't think you would be like this," he shrugged, shaking his head. Although it was cloudy and threatening to rain buckets, he looked brilliant against the gray background. "So...forward, so daring, so ready to kill me. I thought you'd be pathetic, weak even. I'm sure you are weak. Never played any sports, so your endurance must be shit, but those hits earlier?" He rubbed his jaw, smiling. "They were killer. I underestimated you, but I'm sure you'll be easy to kill. We're all sure about that."

"How so sure?" I scowled, bringing the cigarette back to my lips and taking a long hit, feeling at ease and more calm once the smoke entered through my lungs. I killed the cig against the side of the headstone, saying a silent I'm sorry to Brian McCarthy.

"You don't have the guts to kill, to fight back to the brink of death," he said in a voice I couldn't recognize as his own. It was dark, even more brooding than his usual. "You're all talk. You're weak."

I stood from the headstone. "You know, I thought most villains were a little more sympathetic when confronting someone at their parents graves. Maybe I underestimated how much of a dick you are."

"Oh," he feigned heartbreak, clutching his chest. "Ow."

"If I see you in person ever again," I snarled, walking past him so only he could hear. "I'll kill you."

He waited until I was a good feet away before yelling after me with an obvious smirk to his tone, "Don't forget our call tonight!"

It was hard to get my keys from my purse, knowing he was standing and watching. He was waiting for the perfect moment to swoop in, to take me hostage perhaps. My only witnesses would be the gravediggers and I wasn't sure if I was alright with that.

I rounded on the driver's side of my truck, staring past to see him watching me with a gloomy face. He wanted something from me, something more than just killing me off. There were secrets I needed to find out and it seemed I had no choice but to figure them out.

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so sorry that I haven't updated in a while, time got away from me!!! college classes have been really stressful and I really thought i'd have more time to write, so updates might be weird for a little!! 

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