Total pages in book: 207
Estimated words: 196971 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 985(@200wpm)___ 788(@250wpm)___ 657(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 196971 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 985(@200wpm)___ 788(@250wpm)___ 657(@300wpm)
The little boy beamed up at her, and just as she had become used to Elsa's uncommon facial features, Zari was privately happy to realize she was now also used to the sight of Martin's empty eye sockets. Since there wasn't any book on Social Etiquette with Ghosts, she had to play it by ear all these years, and one thing she had actively avoided was keeping her fears to herself. Silly or not, she didn't want to accidentally make the ghosts feel hurt or offended.
After gulping the last of her Americano, Zari took the train back to Alexandru's apartment. She was likely to be safer here while...
Zari glanced down at the two tiny slices of roots she had in her hand.
Two devil's apples from two different crime scenes.
Surely, that was enough to summon a vision...right?
It has to be, Zari told herself. This was the only way for her to find the traitor, clear Alexandru's name and...and have her Master fuck his love into her. So get yourself motivated with that, Zari Baltimore!
Elsa materialized into view just as she was about to lie back in Alexandru's couch, and Zari barely managed to keep herself from yelping.
"Alexandru told me I must watch over you," Elsa answered in her usual singsong voice, "when you dream."
The Gray Area of
Good and Evil
Chapter Nineteen
GRAY.
The moment her eyes closed, and the part of her that was seer took over, and she could only see with her soul—-
GRAY.
It filled her vision, and nothing else she could see except...
GRAY.
So many dreadful shades of gray.
Unforgiving overcast skies.
Poisoned waters of a nearby creek.
And finally, the dirt-gray lined nails of a boy of thirteen, who was just now starting to dig with his rusty old shovel.
The boy, despite his tender years, had twisted tastes that made him smile at the feel of crushing rabbit necks between his fingers and stabbing the light out of the eyes of days-old kittens.
Dig, dig, dig.
The boy kept digging until he was able to yank out the devil's apples from which an archdemon had been making his insidious whispers for thousands and thousands of days, just patiently waiting for the right one to come along.
The boy fell under the archdemon's thrall the moment their eyes came into contact, and all at once he realized what a terrible, terrible mistake he had made.
The creature had lied!
He would have eternity to live, yes, but it was the worst kind of eternity, for now he was trapped and tortured within his own body.
The archdemon was in control now, and the boy only lasted for minutes...just minutes before willingly succumbing to madness. Anything was better, anything was better than knowing how his stupidity had thrown him into the pits of eternal damnation.
This was the thirteenth boy, whose name the archdemon didn't even care to know. It mattered not, after all. Boys like him never did.
THE ARCHDEMON, NOW in control of the boy's mind and body, went to work immediately. This boy was a keeper, the archdemon decided. A handsome face, strong, strapping muscles...yes, yes, a keeper, so he must be careful...
The archdemon made his puppet roam throughout the town until he found what he was looking for: simple-minded Felix, whom he was quickly able to deceive.
Let's put the boys to sleep, he told Felix, and when they wake up, you and the boys will be in Paradise.
Devil's apples needed to be drenched in blood thirteen times before it could open a Devil's Door, and the archdemon could hardly contain his satisfaction as he watched the simpleton follow his every command.
Twelve boys abducted, twelve boys dead, their eyes torn out so that even if they became restless in the aferlife, they would never know it was him. They would only see Felix and no one else.
Now, the plan was for the archdemon, through his puppet, would kill Felix and turn him into the thirteenth sacrifice. Once the Devil's Door opened and he was freed from Hell, he could then play the victim, a young, terrified boy who had only killed Felix in self-defense, and maybe...he could even cry and pretend to blame himself.
I wish I could've saved the other boys from Felix, but it was too late.
Humans were gullible, after all.
Yes, yes, he could do that.
But the archdemon's plans were all for naught, for the one fly in the ointment that he failed to prepare for was the interfering hand of God.
It was the only reason, the only way that a simpleton like Felix had been able to win a fight over his puppet, and the archdemon was left howling in rage when he heard of Felix's death.
That was no heart attack that killed Felix, just God being meddlesome and whisking the simpleton into the safety of Heaven. God's favorite sons tended to be like that idiot, after all.
PATIENCE, THE ARCHDEMON whispered to himself. The devil's apples had already been drenched in blood twelve times, he only needed one more, and until then...