Ruin (The Rhodes Book 1)

by Rina Kent

  I blink, and they disappear. Instead of Aunt’s face, Mae’s peaceful features come into focus, my hands wrapped around her neck. I jump back as if electrolysed.

  Fucking hell.

  Time escaped me. Again. Not only was I seconds away from squeezing Mae’s throat, but I’m also seeing the dead. People who were supposed to be voices transformed into images. Did all that happen in my head? Or were they actually here?

  The pounding in my heart and ears gets louder and heavier until realisation sets in. I always thought I was fine but truth be told I’m... I’m fucking insane.

  My phone vibrates. Tristan. Finally a living family member.

  “We’ve got Lowell in the dungeons,” he says, “Dylan is out of the country so it’s only you and me. Want to come in?”

  I glance at Mae. I need blood and if I don’t want it to be hers, then I have to act fast. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Hopefully, this will get the demons off my back for a while.

  . . . . .

  I stand in front of Lowell’s dismembered corpse. Blood drips from his wounds, quenching the room’s floor, adding to the ceremony of red on white.

  Father and Aunt stand by my side, glancing at my work with expressions of disinterest. Mother cries in the corner, her voice has always been the dimmest.

  Aunt yawns. “This isn’t the blood we want, Aaron.”

  “I always despised the hypocrite.” Father steps on Lowell’s corpse. “But he’s not the point. Go back to your room and give us what we really want.”

  I hit the side of my head with my palm, the knife slips from my hold and falls on the tiled floor with a clank. I sink to my knees, unable to take the assault of hearing and seeing them all at the same time.

  “Fuck off!” I shout. “I won’t let you have me anymore!”

  “Aaron!” Tristan’s harsh voice echoes in my ears. It takes me a few seconds to realise he’s real.

  I cradle my forehead in my palm, refusing to glance up. He must be considering me with the same look Madam Rhodes gave me when she came to the asylum.

  “I knew you were insane.”

  Instead, Tristan’s features harden, his brows knit together in concern. Right. Tristan also smells like Autumn. So similar to Uncle.

  He follows my field of vision, his eyebrows furrowed. “What are you looking at?”

  “You don’t see them? Of course you wouldn’t.” I release a humourless chuckle. “You want to know? Behind you are my parents and Aunt. My dead parents and Aunt.” I laugh, but the sound becomes strangled and my voice breaks into a whisper. “I’m falling back into that void, Tristan. It’s like being in the asylum all over again.”

  Tristan kneels in front of me, his face a dark shade of grey. I’m well familiar with that expression, he’s nearing the edge himself. He purses his lips and opens his palms. “See these? Everyone I cared about slipped through them. Mother, Father, Thia, little Trevor, and even Madam Rhodes. All I did was watch and scream, helpless to do anything. And now...” He swallows, piercing me with eyes full of fear, terror even. “Now you’re slipping through them as well and I’m still helpless. Not because I’m young and powerless, but because you forbid me from helping you.”

  I run a frantic palm over my face. “Your help is the fucking asylum, Tristan!”

  “No.” Tristan’s voice is firm. “My help is anything you want it to be. I won’t shove you into the asylum. You will kill your way out of it anyway, a lot more perturbed than you already are.”

  At least he didn’t say insane.

  “Then what am I supposed to do. How...” I look at Father, Mother, and Aunt watching me, repeating all the madness from the morning. “How can I make them go away?”

  “We will figure something out.” Tristan snaps his fingers for me to focus on him. “I’ve done a lot of research about the possible cures.”

  I sigh. “Why have you never given up on me, Tristan? I would’ve if I were you.”

  “You’re my brother, I would never give up on you.” He smiles, his expression morphs to reminiscence. “Besides, remember what Father told us the day before the massacre?”

  “Family is everything,” we say at the same time.

  “Right.” A hint of a sad smile curves Tristan’s lips. “How can I maintain our family when I can’t even help you maintain your existence?”

  A sigh escapes my lips when I stand to my feet. “I’ll think about it.” I turn to leave, stop near the entrance, and say over my shoulder. “Thank you, big brother.”

  . . . . .

  Droplets of drizzle blur my vision as I stride across the long grass field. Mother marches by my side, silent. Father and Aunt walk on the other side, reminding me of who I truly am. I’m like them, they say. It’s useless to fight them, they insist.

  I storm to my quarters, Uncle’s thoughts echo in my subconscious. This screwed up place won’t be my end. I refuse to let it be that way.

  The first rational thought that comes to mind is Mae. I need her.

  “You need to kill her.” Father and Aunt speak at the same time.

  Screw off!

  Did I say that aloud? My frantic eyes study my surroundings, searching for a face to confirm my madness.

  Thankfully, the estate is as barren as my logic.

  Once I’m inside my quarters, I open the door to my room. The bed is empty. Mae isn’t here. My jaw ticks, my hands twitch to crush everything to bloody shreds.

  Wait... did I lose time between the Northern Wing and here? Did I perhaps kill her?

  My stomach sinks. My heartbeat chokes the air coming in and out of my lungs. I only breathe again when a quiet humming comes from the bathroom.

  My heavy legs can’t hold me. I slump to the bed with an exasperated sigh.

  Dammit.

  I’m losing it. The mere thought of not finding Mae almost undid me. What the fuck is happening to me?

  “You will fall, Nephew.” Aunt sits by my side, an ugly smile on her lips. “I pushed you back to your senses once and I will gladly do it again.”

  “Aaron, what’s wrong?” Mae’s haunted voice pulls me back to reality. She’s wrapped in a towel, her wet hair cascades on each side. I follow her field of vision to land on the bloodied stains on my wet shirt. I didn’t button the damn plastic coat well.

  “It isn’t mine.” I wipe the water on my face.

  Mae sits next to me, her bare shoulder presses against my arm. The mere touch tones some of the chaos down. I’m able to breathe a little better. “Oh, thank God.” She releases a sigh then her eyes widen, realisation finally settling in. “Did you...”

  “Kill someone. Yes.” I capture her gaze, showing her the man she gave herself to yesterday. “The thrill of his blood lasted for only a while. A few seconds were all I got before my mind crumbled back with endless thoughts to kill you.”

  I expected fear, screams, maybe even tears, but Mae’s eyes shine with the fire of determination. “Didn’t last night help with reining in the urges? I read somewhere that sex helps, doesn’t it?”

  “I slipped, Mae. I don’t know what happens when I lose time but I know when I lose it. What if I killed you yesterday?” Or today for that matter.

  “But you didn’t. You came back and offered me the most amazing night in my life.” She smiles, her small hand covers mine. Heat submerges my body, but it isn’t enough to unfreeze the coldness in my mind.

  “I tried to kill you this morning and I’ll try again until you’re dead.” A bitter laugh escapes me. “I’m my father’s son after all.”

  “No, you’re not your father!”
She shouts before her voice takes a softer tone. “I’m sure there’s a way.” She plants a soft kiss on my mouth. Life springs my supposedly dead heart. “I love you, Aaron. Let me help you.”

  Her gently spoken words resurrect my heart. All the feelings that should’ve occupied it for years penetrated it all at once. My chest aches like the building of a heart attack.

  Why would Mae love me? Me? Have I damaged her that much?

  She squeezes my hand in hers. “You can fight this.”

  Aunt laughs. “I’d kill this cliche myself if I had a body. Wait, I can use yours, Aaron.”

  I take deep breaths, but my voice still comes out harsh. “Fight what? My own head? Do you think I haven’t tried it before? It gets uglier whenever I go against this.” I hit the side of my temple with the back of my hand. “I’ve been their accomplice for a long time, and because of you, I have to fight them.”

  A wounded expression takes over her stunning features. “Am I not worth fighting for?”

  “It’s because of you are that I’m going through this madness!” I shout, before jumping to my feet, glaring at her. “I used to be a shell, but at least my life was simple. With you in the picture, everything crumbles. Everything I stored away from in my childhood has come back to haunt me. I’m obliged to fight a war I cannot win. I don’t know how to gather my pieces anymore. I don’t fucking know how to stop being an irrational, impulsive idiot.” Releasing a sigh, I pause. “You make me feel, Mae, and I hate you for it.”

  Tears stroke Mae’s cheeks. She clutches my arm so tight as if it’s her only safe line in a deadly storm. “Hate me all you want, but let me help, I beg you.”

  “Do you know the story of the scorpion and the frog?”

  She nods, more tears coming out of her eyes.

  “How did it end?” I ask. Her lips tremble but she says nothing. “When the scorpion stung the frog, dooming them both to drown, the frog asked him why did he did so. What did the scorpion reply?”

  Mae shakes her head, sniffing, before looking down at her lap.

  I hold her chin between my thumb and forefinger, harshly drawing her attention back to me. My voice rises with every word. “What. Did. He. Reply?”

  “I can’t help it. It’s in my nature.” She hiccoughs, her blue gaze fixates me. “But that’s not you, that’s— “

  “There’s no but, Mae!” I cut her off. “Stop being the stupid frog already. It’s getting boring.”

  I release her with a shove. She flinches before lying on the bed.

  On my way out, I don’t dare look into her eyes. The sound of her sobs is already eating at my resolve. What I might see in that gaze would haunt me for the remainder of my days. Better hurt her emotionally than choke the life out of her.

  Until I figure out how to master my demons, Mae needs to be out of the picture. I won’t repeat Father’s mistake. I won’t kill the only woman who meant something to me because I wanted the easy way out.

  It was easy killing targets and pretending that the thrill was everything I needed. Since I had Mae and knew what real thrill tasted like, I’ll do everything in my might to have it again.

  I’ll find a way.

  Until then, Mae needs to go.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Mae

  It hurts.

  My breaths. The strangling of my sobs.

  It aches.

  Being here. Loving Aaron. Fighting a losing war.

  It’s all so damn painful.

  No more tears come out. I’ve cried until I can no longer shed them.

  The little warmth that once illuminated my path is no longer shining. Whatever hope dissipated.

  I always thought perseverance can get me anywhere. As long as I want to do something, I’ll work hard to achieve it.

  That belief crumbled with Aaron.

  For the first time, I face an unmoving wall. I tried everything. I begged, cried, offered my heart and body. But nothing I did or said made Aaron challenge the darkness and evil implemented in him. Maybe it’s easier for Aaron to live this way. Perhaps I was hurting him all along by pushing him. It must be hard to erase something that blends with his spirit and flows in his blood.

  Aaron’s way to cope with his demons is to kill. Not doing so is murdering him. Slowly. Painfully. Yet, killing still made him dive deeper into a one-way road of madness.

  Yesterday. Today. The other day in the art studio. He looked completely lost as if an unknown entity snatched his soul and left him barren. It’s much worse than the first day he brought me here. At least back then, he was composed and confident of himself.

  At least back then I didn’t love him.

  I can’t watch him succumb to his dark end. I’m not Eva. I won’t be able to take it for years. It’ll eat away at me to see him drown and not pull him to the shore. Not that he wants my help.

  My lips tremble, fresh tears sting my eyes. Is my existence that much of a torture for him?

  With heavy legs, I stroll to the bathroom. It smells like Aaron; entangled, enchanting, and far. He’s so far away. I can’t reach him no matter how much I try. It’s clear that he’s fighting the urge to murder me. He’ll end up killing me then killing himself. We’ll be an incarnation of his parents.

  More tears cascade down my cheeks. It’s useless. Fighting is useless.

  My gaze darts to the mirror. The person who stares back is a little familiar. A ghost that resembles me. Her eyes are hollow, lifeless. This morning’s flushed cheeks are replaced by an unearthly paleness.

  Looking at the ghost of myself hurts.

  God. Why does it hurt this much?

  My fist swings and connects with the mirror. The ghost disappears when the glass smashes to pieces with a clashing sound.

  Something is snatched from inside my body and lifts above me as if I’m jerked outside of the mirror. My head feels lighter, lighter still.

  Maybe the ghost is taking over.

  Blood covers my knuckles, but there’s no sharp sting of pain.

  I lift both hands in front of my face. Crimson drips from my palm to the tiled floor. Little red dots grow bigger and bigger.

  Drip. Drip. Drip.

  I should stop it, but neither the ghost nor I have the will to. I may as well bleed to death.

  Death...

  Is it a bad idea to die?

  I can be in a better place. Somewhere where it doesn’t hurt this much. Somewhere where I won’t watch this pathetic ghost take over my life. Somewhere where my heart will stop bleeding. I’m already on the edge. Might as well give myself the last push.

  More than anything, I want out.

  The bathtub I filled earlier calls for me in a bewitching pull. I grab a shattered piece of glass and sit in the tepid water. It’s cold, but doesn’t freeze me. The sharp glass is digging into my palm, but it doesn’t cause pain.

  My thoughts, just like my senses, dissipate. Nothing but a need to leave exists.

  The grey walls fade into the background. The cold water isn’t so cold anymore.

  Someone’s bloodied hand holds the glass to my wrist and slices through it. My heart pounds fast. It kicks in once, twice...

  Blood flows. I can see it; Red. I can smell it; rusty. I can feel it surrounding me; Thick. I can hear it; Slow. I can taste it; metallic. But I can’t register any pain. No emotions. No thoughts. Nothing.

  Overwhelming darkness envelops me from every side, pouring over my skin like a blanket. It’s the first time I don’t mind it. On the contrary, I welcome it. Embrace it. The shadows I once loathed surround me and sing me a litt
le lullaby. It’s like that void between reality and sleep. The little moment before one loses themselves.

  Blood keeps pouring out of my body. Water turns into a deep shade of red. My loud heartbeat fades away to emptiness.

  I close my eyes.

  This is it. Easy. Calm. Peaceful.

  It’s like floating, allowing the darkness to drift me away.

  I take my last breath and stumble into nothingness.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Aaron

  The quiet of the night is interrupted by a bang coming out of my bedroom.

  I sprint towards it.

  The bed is empty. Mae isn’t where I left her. I swallow the clog restricting my throat.

  “Mae?” I call, heading to the bathroom. Each step is heavier than the precedent. I learnt to always trust my intuition, and right now, a terrible one is clouding my mind.

  Cold sweat covers my hand when I turn the doorknob. “Mae, are you—”

  I freeze at the doorway. There’s no oxygen in the room. No matter how many gulps of air I take, I still can’t breathe.

  A pool of blood.

  Mae’s blood. And she’s inside it. One hand with a bloodied piece of glass on the edge of the bathtub. Her head grotesquely lolled to her shoulder. Eyes closed, her overly pale skin is surrounded by the oxygenated red from every side.

  No, please NO!

  I run to her, stumbling a few times. I crouch by the bathtub, my hands flat out shaking.

  “Mae!” I slap her, but she shows no sign of consciousness. The water is too red. It’s the artery. Damn! My hands plunge in the water searching for her wrist. When I get it out, I don’t have to look at it, hypothermia in Mae’s skin takes over my attention. Is she nearing shock already?

  “She saved us the trouble,” Aunt says from behind me.

  “FUCK OFF!”

  Get your shit together, Aaron. Mae needs your help.

  I breathe in and out. Trauma case. Slit wrist. Go. I press my fingers to Mae’s neck. I only need a pulse. A tiny sign of life.