Chapter 3
They had completely forgotten I was in the back seat. After blowing into her eye with exaggerated tenderness, Jessie glanced back at me, a smug gleam flickering in her eyes. I kept my gaze lowered, sitting quietly, motionless—like I hadn’t noticed. The car sped along the winding mountain road, climbing higher, closer to the temple nestled deep in the mountains. With every turn, something primal stirred inside me. They were the ones who killed my sister. On the radio, a burst of static crackled, followed by a sharp voice: “Emergency alert—an extremely dangerous patient has escaped from St. Elora’s Mental Health Facility. Citizens are urged to remain vigilant…” Neither of them seemed to hear it. But I smiled faintly in the shadows, my lips curling at the edges. After dropping me off at the temple, Preston left without a glance back. He didn’t notice the flicker of panic in the host’s eyes. Didn’t care. The iron doors slammed shut behind me with a heavy clang. A haze of smoke filled the courtyard. Several men with cigarettes hanging from their lips surrounded me, their smiles full of rot. “Well, well,” one of them sneered. “Look who’s back. Missed us, sweetheart?” Another one licked his teeth, pulling at his belt. “Didn’t get enough last time, huh? We’ll make it real good for you now.” A third stepped forward, hands already tugging at my collar. “Don’t play shy. Take it off yourself, or we’ll help.” I stood still, head bowed, listening to the weight of their breath draw closer. My muscles coiled tight beneath my skin. When I didn’t move, the leader grinned and uncoiled a long leather whip from his waist. “Stubborn little whore. Looks like you need another beating before you learn.” He cracked the whip toward me— —but I caught it midair. His eyes went wide. “You bitch—!” Before he could finish, I yanked him forward. He stumbled, and I struck—one blow, two, a dozen. Smack. Smack. Smack. The air filled with the sound of flesh meeting flesh. The others jeered at first. “Third guy, can’t handle one woman?” Then third guy turned, face swollen grotesquely, blood and shattered teeth pouring from his mouth. The laughter died. Silence swallowed the courtyard whole. Then the warden shrieked, his voice breaking: “Caitlin? She—she’s supposed to be dead! I saw the death certificate!” Everyone froze and turned to stare at the ground near my feet. In the sunlight, my shadow stretched out behind me—solid. Real. “Shit,” someone whispered. “She’s alive.” The leader spat. His expression hardened. “So what? She’s still just one woman.” They closed in again, fists clenched, ready to strike. I lowered my head slightly, but my lips pulled into a smile I couldn’t hide. Of course they didn’t know. I was born with strength that wasn’t human. How else could I have wiped out the school director’s entire family all those years ago? Violence runs in my blood like wildfire. I endured it all only for my sister. But now, I don’t have to endure anything. The screams rang out for three days straight. That’s the best thing about this old, crumbling temple buried in the mountains—no matter how loud you scream, your voice vanishes like a stone sinking into a bottomless pool. When Preston returned, the temple was little more than smoldering ruins. I sat by a broken wall, naked, soot-streaked, blood caked beneath my fingernails. He looked at me with disgust and tossed a coat in my direction. “Bad luck,” he muttered. Jessie passed close and hissed in my ear, “Why didn’t they just burn you alive?” I said nothing. In the back seat, I trembled quietly, staring at the dried blood on my cuffs—the blood of the men who would never hurt anyone again. It was almost funny, watching them kneel and beg. Especially when I raised the mallet and crushed the soft rot beneath them inch by inch. We’re all pure creatures at the end of the day. So let’s stay pure. Now, every one of their bones is shattered—just as beautifully broken as my sister’s.