“Don’t worry, Shadow. Blood and carnage will soon be your drug, the very thing your soul needs to flourish. Your heart will only beat when you watch your prey’s stop. And your thirst will only be quenched by death.”
I shook my head, shock and horror making it difficult to breathe. “Never,” I choked out. “I will never kill anyone.”
He laughed. “Sure thing, love.”
I screwed up my face and turned back to the window, focussing on the darkness outside before I got myself another punch and retorted angrily to his declaration. I would never kill anyone. Never. I couldn’t do that.
Yet, it would only be four months later that I went against everything I swore and promised myself.
At the mere age of fourteen. I, Shadow, assassin for the notorious Phantoms performed my first execution. The first amongst many. The very first one that would split my soul into many pieces, each murder I committed taking away a piece of me until at the tender age of sixteen there was nothing left of Connie Swift but a single sliver of a heart that had always been a part of my sister. And nothing, not even a lifetime of massacre and slaughter would ever take that away.
WE EVENTUALLY PULLED off the road and manoeuvred in between some trees. My eyes widened on a large house looming high and impressive in the background. It was lit by a huge fire on the gravelled area at the front of the house, splitting the darkness in two and giving the house a marbled effect as the heat rose and warped the oxygen in the air.
Isaac pulled to a stop and I remained pressed back against my seat, my heart beating so hard I swore we could both hear its rampant thud in the confines of the quiet car.
“This will be your home for the next three months,” he said quietly, his eyes regarding me for my reaction. I refused to give him one. Instead I gulped back the fear and slowly stepped out of the car.
Walking towards the house, I heard Isaac behind me, opening and closing the car doors as he retrieved my bag and followed me up the drive.
The fire was roaring, lighting the area as the house lingered darkly in the backdrop. “Why is there a bonfire?” I asked as I turned to Isaac when he strolled up behind me.
“It’s the only heat you’ll get. The house has no amenities so you either choose shelter and freeze inside, or take the option of sleeping under the stars with a fire to keep you warm.”
My whole body ached at that thought and I instinctively pulled my coat farther around me. Simple things like electricity and gas I had taken advantage of, and now the lack of either seemed daunting. Yet, I nodded, strangely knowing it was expected of me.
Isaac moved from my side and I stared silently at the fire, all the hopes I’d had of my days to come being bearable now turning to ash in the flames of the bonfire.
I frowned when he lifted his arm and threw something into the middle of the raging inferno. I blinked, squinting as I tried to make out what it was. When my brain registered it, I screamed and flung myself forward in attempt to retrieve the item.
Isaac lifted me off the ground with one arm around my body and pulled me back.
“NO!” I screamed as I watched with devastation as my bag rapidly disintegrated before my eyes. “No!” I wrenched free from him as I tried again to take hold of the only thing left of me.
“Shadow!” he roared as he grabbed hold of me again. “Connie Swift is dead! She is no more!”
“But!” I cried, my sobs making my pleas indecipherable, “The only pictures I have of Mae are in there!” I couldn’t breathe as I watched my past die. The only physical memories I had disintegrated as fast as my hopes and dreams. Tears flooded my face as I cried out with a whisper, “Mae. My beautiful Mae.”
I fell to my knees, the heat from the roaring fire scorching my skin as I watched everything turn to embers. Rage filled me, my spirit deciding she’d had enough as I bounced up and punched Isaac square in the face, my other hand slapping at him as I made him pay for what he had done.
I was down and under him in a single second. He straddled my back and punched me in the back of the head, pain coursing through my skull with an unbelievable agony. Then he squashed my face into the wet mud until my lungs squealed with the pressure. My eyes began to bulge as my brain throbbed. The world seemed to shift away from me, the hum in my ears disguising Isaac’s furious reprimand as the dirt started to seep into my lungs with each of my attempts to draw in air.
Suddenly I was released and the sounds my chest created made me wince as I tried to refill my lungs with much needed oxygen. However, he fisted my hair and dragged me up, the pull on my neck restricting the available passage from my mouth to my lungs, his cruelty once again limiting my supply of air.
“You – ever – strike – me – again!” he hissed, his incense making his pale face turn puce. “And I will end your life! But don’t think I will do it swiftly. I will make it as agonising as I possibly can!”
I didn’t doubt him for one second. I tried to nod but his hold on my head made it difficult.
“You belong to the Phantoms now, Shadow. You do as you are told, you follow orders, and you do them without deliberation…”
“And without disagreement,” I finished in my head.
He dropped me as abruptly as he had seized me. I fell back into the mud on my side, my sobs drenching the already wet ground. I heard his footsteps and then the car door banged. I lay there, in front of the fire, in front of the ashes that were now the only thing left of my sister, as Isaac started the engine and drove off, leaving me alone with only my sanity for company.
I WAS SURPRISED to see her still laid out exactly where she had fallen the previous night. I was disappointed, and the small growl that left me told me my soul was too. She had broken already, after a mere few hours. I sighed loudly. She would never have survived my father’s cruelty and I supposed it was a good thing she had already given in. A speedy bullet to her head would be the easiest route to give her the peace she craved, yet the gloom inside me irritated me. I couldn’t quite figure out what it was about the feisty, mouthy little girl that got to me.
Stepping from the car, the dying heat from the fire prickled against the chill in the early morning winter air, and I zipped up my jacket. Pulling the gun from my waistband I stood over her still form. She really was quite pretty for a stubborn brat, and it was a shame she hadn’t proved to be as hard as I originally thought. I’d awoken from a dream in the night, one where she had finally reached the age of consent and I’d given her the best birthday present – my hard cock and the fucking of her life.
Pursing my lips and heaving out another sigh, I clicked off the safety and crouched beside her. Pushing the muzzle into her temple, a sensation in my gut pained me. Why was this so damn hard? I’d executed dozens but I realised I’d never ended the life of a child. Yet, something told me it wasn’t that reason that ached me.
My finger pressed against the trigger as a sadness overwhelmed me. Her bright blue eyes were seized by the tiny flames of the fire, unfocussed and unseeing as her fractured mind gave her solace in the depths of insanity. Her lips were tinted a light blue, evidence of hyperthermia rattling her bones and torturing her lungs. The mascara she’d worn for her party left tracks down her face, proof of her tears and the burden of her coherence.
As I hesitated, her eyes slowly and gradually moved to me. “Do it,” she croaked.
I blinked, astounded by her lucidity. My head cocked as my eyes narrowed on her. “You still with me, pretty girl?”
She didn’t answer but a glint in her eyes showed me enough. I clicked off the safety, stashed the gun back into the waistband of my jeans, and stood up. Her eyes followed me but she made no attempt to move as I walked over to the well and pumped it hard, filling the bucket with ice and the small amount of water that hadn’t frozen over with last night’s low temperatures.
She shrieked when I poured every single drop over her head. “Get up!”
She cried out, moving quickly to escape another downpour when I hovered the bucket over her
. Her head shook manically as her arms instinctively wrapped around her trembling body in attempt to warm herself up. “If you don’t get yourself moving you’ll freeze to death.”
Her eyes widened but the shock of the water rebutted her effort to talk, her teeth chattering so hard she couldn’t configure words.
“Run!” I whispered coldly, a wicked smile tilting my lips as I pulled out my blade and flicked it playfully between my fingers.
She swallowed, her feet shuffling backwards as her gawp on the knife showed me her fear.
Lifting it, I aimed it at her then winked. “Run!”
She suddenly moved, her frozen legs struggling with the pace, but I silently admired her strength when she took off like a bullet from a gun, her slight frame moving across the grounds at a speed that surprised me. I gave her a start, needing her to get up a pace that would make her heartbeat increase and pump the frozen blood around her body enough to keep her alive. Then I charged after her.
She looked over her shoulder at me, the terror on her face making me chuckle as she upped her speed and tore off towards the stream that ran adjacent to the three acres of secluded woodland belonging to the Phantoms for both training and executions. Unfortunately, for her, I knew the area well, much of my own training here giving me a blind knowledge of every square inch. She headed towards the stream, and if she didn’t brave it and dive in, pushing her aching body through the depths of the freezing water, then she had the choice of facing me instead.
I watched with amusement when her legs slammed to a halt in front of the stream, wondering which option she would choose.
I was slightly awed when she pulled her shoulders back then spun around to face me. She whipped up a long, thick stick from the floor and held it in front of her defensively. Her first lesson was complete and I couldn’t help but grin. She would rather brave the worst of the evils, therefore teaching her mind that lighting speed decisions were what would keep her alive.
“Don’t come near me!” she hissed, her eyes fixed on the knife in my hand. I was impressed when her concentration never wavered.
“I don’t need to,” I whispered as I flicked the knife, and she cried out when it embedded into the soft flesh under her right collarbone.
She gasped, one of her hands lifting to the puncture site. “You…”
I laughed. “Don’t tell me you expected me to go easy on you?” I tutted as I approached her slowly. “Where would that get you if I make your training easy? You need to see what’s to come, Shadow,” I murmured as I reached out slowly and took the stick from her, my arms moving quickly to catch her when her legs finally gave in and she fell like a lead weight. I scooped her up and carried her up to the house.
“You know.” I sighed as I kicked open the front door and took her into the empty, gloomy room. “I’d have thought you’d have at least attempted to fill the fireplace in here.”
She stared at me, her stunned eyes wide from where her face nestled against my chest. “I thought…”
I shook my head disappointedly. “You have a lot to learn.” I blinked down at her, hating the sympathy I felt. “You do what is needed to stay alive.”
Placing her down on the floor, I went back to the car and grabbed the stash of medical items I had brought with me. She blinked when I threw them down beside her. “Repair the wound.”
Her mouth fell open, her eyes briskly moving from me to where my knife still remained rooted in her shoulder. “What?”
I shrugged. “You either sew yourself up or you will die from the loss of blood.”
She flinched when I dipped down, grabbed my knife and pulled it out quickly. She cried out in pain with my brutal extraction, her hand pressing against the wound as she struggled to stem the flow of blood. Her pale face exposed her pain and as I wiped her blood from my blade onto my jeans, I looked at her. “Use that pain and turn it into adrenaline, Shadow. Do what is needed to stay alive.”
Then I tossed her the bottle of water I had brought her and left. I wanted to look back, and for some strange reason, it was the hardest thing not to. I never looked back. I never, ever, looked back. Yet, before I closed the door behind me, I took a final glance of her. I knew she’d be dead when I returned the next day. She was a tough one, but sadly, she wasn’t tough enough to withstand what I had in store for her. And that thought disappointed me and pained my stomach when I slid back into my car and drove away.
I SENSED HIS shock when he walked into the room and found me eating the berries I’d found growing near the stream that morning. The deep wound in my shoulder was stitched and dressed as a fire roared in the cover of the small fireplace in the room. Fair enough, it had taken me several attempts to fix the gaping slice in my shoulder, and I’ll admit, for the first time I appreciated Miss Greer’s insistence that I learned sewing at school. The exhilaration that had burst through me when I’d tied off the last of the thread had snapped something inside of me. I can’t explain what happened to me in the depths of the dark, cold night. A fever had ravaged my body as I’d sobbed and screamed through every stitch. But when I finally pulled through that last one, and I couldn’t help but laugh and cheer myself, it was as though my soul shifted from inside me, an emptiness growing inside me and tearing my heart from my chest in an unbelievable agony that I knew I would never feel again throughout my life. I’d stared at the mess I had made of myself and fell to the floor, weeping, my spirit begging me to end it all as I considered exactly why I had fixed a part of me when I knew death was around the corner anyway. Then I heard her, Mae’s soft voice begging me to keep going. I knew it had been my imagination, but it was the slap I’d needed. I was doing this for her, to save her from the hands of these monsters. My death would only negotiate hers. And that was something I was unwilling to spend eternity paying for.
He remained silent, his footsteps growing louder on the cold concrete floor the closer he got to me. Without saying a word, he sat beside me, picked up a berry from where I’d stashed them in a homemade basket made from the cup of my bra, and popped one into his mouth. The small smile on his lips as he stared quietly at the raging fire kept me going for the next three months of his gruelling regime. Whenever I felt the need to give in, I pictured that precise moment, his joy at my resilience and his admiration of my resolve the very thing that made my blood pump harder and gave me the strength I needed to fight back at him.
Don’t get me wrong, he wasn’t lenient with me. Not – one – bit. His torment and torture threatened to break me, his physical abuse as harsh as his emotional persecution. Before I’d even been initiated into the Phantoms, my body was covered in so many scars that my once thin and weak body was unrecognisable. My abdominal muscles had formed and my tendons were sculpted into weapons and armour. Yet, strangely, I knew he did it to help me, to strengthen my mind and shape my body into a machine for what was to come. I couldn’t pinpoint why, and I never asked him, but as I approached the end of my three months trial, spring in the air and warmer nights easing my sentence, our final training session was upon us.
I spun around and flicked my knife, the blade at long last slamming home and puncturing him solidly between his ribs.
“Fuck me!” He laughed then cried out in pain when his knees crunched on the ground as he dropped before me.
I grinned at him, extremely pleased with myself, before I hurried over to the shelf which housed all the medical items and snatched up the needle, thread and some antiseptic. He winced as he pulled himself to the makeshift chair I’d made of sticks, leaves, and old clothing I’d found scattered around the house, then pulled his t-shirt over his head.
I had seen Isaac’s body many times during the last three months, and his scars no longer held my attention. It had been the sight of them that had made me swallow back my weakness and strive to be a harder person. If his own father could do that to him, then what the hell he had in store for me was unthinkable.
“Good girl.” Isaac grinned with pride as I settled beside him and threaded th
e needle. He didn’t hiss or flinch as I silently sewed up the hole I’d given him. I was always amazed at his ability to push pain aside. As much as he’d tried to teach me how to control pain, it had been the one thing I’d struggled with. Yet, my determination had given me his respect on more than one occasion.
I froze when he softly placed his hand over mine, halting my tending. After three long months of brutal contact, the gentility of his touch shocked me. Not once had he shown me any pity or compassion, and the slight touch was a shock to my system.
I lifted my eyes to his and the pain behind them caused me to blink. Isaac never presented his discomfort to me, and for some reason, I panicked. “Are you okay?” I blurted as I studied the wound in his side. He gently gripped my chin and lifted my face back up until our eyes met again. The pain still shone brightly and I swallowed as my mouth dried. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you so much.”
He blinked at me and I dropped my eyes to watch his Adam’s apple bob. “The pain inside me will forever be irreparable, Shadow.”
I didn’t know what to say, his openness and soft tone bearing down on me so much that I struggled to breathe. Another emotion flickered across his face and the pain behind his eyes intensified as he leaned to one side and pulled something from his pocket. “I have something for you.”
I frowned, unable to see what he held. “What?”
“Tomorrow your initiation into the family will secure your future,” he whispered, with so much grief that my stomach clenched with worry. “Connie Swift will be indefinitely erased.”
My eyes filled with tears at his declaration. I already knew what he said but his words confirmed it and I couldn’t help but grieve for the girl that was once happy and satisfied with the life before her. But she was no more and I verified his statement with a simple nod.
He gave me a nod in reply as he pushed himself up and slipped his t-shirt back over his head. Looking down at me, he blinked softly. “Get some rest tonight. It will be a while before you’re granted more.”
The Beginning of Connie and Isaac (The Blue Butterfly #3) Page 3