She’s a lonely, fucked up girl who helped me carry out these murders. Doesn’t matter that she would’ve done it anyways had I not been there. Without her, I wouldn’t have gotten the information I did tonight. And I can’t let that go unrewarded.

So, I resign myself to protect Sibby. I’ll clean up the evidence, dispose of the bodies and do everything I can to infiltrate Savior’s before they relocate.

“Will they demolish?”

“Yes,” Mark answers quickly. I let out a slow breath and nod. By saving Sibby, I’m giving up the first lead I’ve truly had.

“I-If you let me go, I can get you in,” Mark barters desperately. “I’ll help you and you can do whatever you want. Just as long as you let me live.”

“The other three are already dead,” I say. “They’re going to relocate anyways.”

“Not if you pin everything on this girl. That’s what you planned, right? To let her take the fall for it?”

Sibby is still too blind with bloodlust to hear what Mark is saying, but I would’ve been honest about it anyway. Sibby and I never promised each other anything, and I’m pretty sure the girl still plans on killing me.

But she won’t succeed because despite what she thinks, it’s only her against me. And I’ve fought far too many bad guys to allow a little girl to take me out. Even if she is a little badass.

I refocus on Mark. “Do you know where they’d relocate?” I ask. Mark hesitates, sensing that he will no longer hold any leverage if he confesses. I dig the knife deeper into his dick to drive home my point.

I’ll know if he’s lying.

“No,” he admits, his lip trembling. “They wouldn’t tell us until afterwards.”

I nod my head, lift my hand, and plunge the blade deep into his pelvis. His screams do little to abate the pit of dread and anger churning in my stomach.

Chapter 32

The Shadow

S ibby took the fall for the murders.

After chopping the bodies into pieces and loading them in the trunk, we sat on the hood of my Mustang, where I was once again reminded just how broken this doll actually is. Sounds like her father was a piece of shit.

Can’t help but muse over the fact that she has a reason to end up the way she did and I… don’t.

Just as I was getting into my car, the cops pulled up. Sibby refused to get in, insisting that she needed to stay with her henchmen. Men who don’t actually fucking exist.

And I didn’t have time to stay and argue. I had chopped up pieces of body parts in my trunk and needed to not only get away from the police but dispose of the evidence without getting caught.

So, I left. The police chased me for five miles before I lost them. I have backup license plates on hand, so once I got to a safe area, I changed my plates and clothing, burnt the evidence, and drove home.

There are one hundred and sixty-two people in Seattle with the same make and model, but they’ll never be able to pin anything on me even if they magically narrowed it down to me.

In the end, the police pinned the murders on a mentally unstable girl and an unknown accomplice. I figured the Society would look into the crime and find an unknown accomplice suspicious. Enough to up and move.

But after looking into Sibby myself, I found that she was born into a fucked-up cult and wanted for the murder of her father.

Her father rivaled Jim Jones, spouting about being God’s disciple and tricking hundreds of people into believing in his word.

He was a rich man who came from old money. He spent his riches on building a compound for his followers, confining them to a stretch of land for the rest of their lives. That’s where Sibby was born and raised, up until she committed a heinous crime and fled.

There are reports of Sibby’s mother committing suicide via poison, and it seems that’s what led to the broken doll finally snapping. She snuck into her father’s bedroom at night with a knife and stabbed him to death.

One hundred and fifty-three times to be precise. Rage was a factor. Sibby made it clear that she is perfectly capable of stabbing a man past her body’s physical limits if angry enough. Robert was proof of that.

It took three days for them to connect Sibby to murders across the country. All cities that Satan’s Affair has rooted the haunted carnival in have numerous cases of missing person reports in each location for the past five years.

If all the people reported missing from Satan’s Affair had connections to her, Sibby has killed around fifty people.

I was genuinely surprised that the haunted fair didn't come under fire sooner with so many reports connected to them, but then I had learned that most of the victims were lowlifes, with very few people that cared enough to look for them.

Whether Sibby was correct in thinking they were demons is subjective. But what I can say is that even though none of them have records, save for a few petty crimes, it doesn't seem like they were good people either.

So, in the end, an unknown accomplice will be looked into, but with Sibby’s past coupled with her claims of having henchmen, there’s a good chance the murders of the four men will be chalked up to what I had hoped.

Wrong place, wrong time.

She really was the perfect scapegoat. I just wish I didn’t fucking care.

That was three nights ago, and with the threat of the Society relocating, Jay has been monitoring Savior’s closely. We’ve hacked into their camera feed on the main floor, and by the looks of it, they’re staying still.

Obviously, no cameras reside in the dungeon. That’d be too easy.

“Any word on the building being demolished?” I ask Jay, my phone to my ear.

“Nope,” he replies, popping the P dramatically. I want to pop him in the face for it. “You going in tonight?” he asks.

“Yes,” I say, rolling my head and cracking my neck. The tension has already started seeping into my shoulders. I have a sinking feeling I’m going to see some shit that will threaten to send me into a tailspin.

But I have to maintain control. If I don’t, I will die before I save those kids, and that’s just not an option.

“Still keeping an eye on Addie?”

Jay sighs. “Yes…” he trails off, and I can feel the question hanging from the tip of his tongue. I want to reach through the receiver, snatch it, and crush it before he can speak, but he’s too quick. “So, uh, this is like the love of your life or some shit?” he asks awkwardly.

The sigh I try to keep internal bleeds out and through the phone. “The one and only,” I clip, my tone signaling that I don’t want to speak about Addie right now, but the fucker doesn’t ever listen when it comes to my personal life.

“She feel the same?”

I can’t help the slight smirk from forming on my face. “She’s getting there,” I reply cryptically.

Jay finally takes the hint and drops it. “Well, you will be happy to know that no one has gone in and out of her house except her friend for the past three days.”

Mark's threat still rings around in my head. Like a stray bullet ricocheting in a constant loop inside my brain.

The Society knows about Addie, making her a target. They may love children, but they absolutely do not pass up beautiful young women to sell and ship off to other countries. There’s no shortage of demand when it comes to the skin trade. Evil people have their tastes, and some prefer their victims to be fully grown women just as much as some prefer them adolescent.

The tension in my shoulders grows as my thoughts run away from me. A single moment—that’s all it takes for her to go missing. Vanish out of thin air within a short trek from her car to the grocery store entrance.

She doesn’t know the danger she’s in, but that will change soon. I refuse to hide the truth from her. And I’m sure she’s not going to like hearing that our self-defense lessons are going to be ramping up.