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This isn’t over.
The nightmare is just beginning.
* * *
“I’m sorry, Sophia.”
Castor seems to realize what’s happening before I do. The hulking man stands at my side as we stand before a small pile of my favorite books in the backyard of the mansion I’ve called home for the past two years.
“What’s happening?” I ask, still distracted by the haunting memories of what happened earlier in the night.
Those screams won’t leave me alone. They linger in the deepest darkest recesses of my mind, whirling around like taunting ghouls.
Roman Barinov didn’t deserve to live. I made the wrong decision.
“It’s what your father wants…”
“It’s always about what my father wants…” I whisper.
“Over here,” Retsos orders. Ripping my gaze away from the pile of books before me, I watch the untouchable demon lead two men to the grass. Each man carries a large, heavy-looking black garbage bag over this shoulder, and when they reach my books, they drop the garbage bags onto the pile.
Immediately, Retsos starts pouring some kind of liquid over everything.
“Is everything ready?”
Father’s voice comes from behind me. When I turn around to look at him, I see that he’s holding a lit candle. The flame casts deep shadows across his weathered face.
That’s when I smell the gasoline.
For the hundredth time tonight, my heart drops into a deep, black abyss. Finally, I understand what’s about to happen.
“All set, boss,” Retsos says, stepping away from the pile. “You should have done this long ago. These fairy tales were making her weak…”
“I’m not weak!” I suddenly find myself shouting. Before I can lunge forward, Castor grabs my shoulder. His grip is careful, but too strong to fight against.
“He’s right, dear,” Father says, stepping up to my side. I can feel the heat from his candle against my cheek.
“Papa, I made the right decision, didn’t I? I did good, didn’t I?” My voice trembles as I try to fight past the lump sitting in my throat.
My books. My stories. My dreams.
They’re about to going up in flames. Father is going to burn them all.
“You did well today, Sophia,” Father nods. “But not well enough. Do not worry, though. I will teach you. But we can’t have any more distraction.”
Before I can argue, Father tosses his lit candle towards the glistening pile of books and garbage bags.
For a moment, nothing happens. It even looks like the wick has been extinguished. But then I blink, and when my eyelids open again, the pile is consumed by flames.
“No!” I rasp, my whole body retching. But Castor continues to hold me back, to do his solemn duty.
“Watch carefully, dear,” Father says. “It is important that you understand. This is not a punishment. It is a lesson. Be like the flames. Devour that which does not serve you. Make it your fuel. Grow with the fire. Dominate the chaos. Rule the darkness.”
As the flames lash higher and higher, and the pages of my books begin to melt, so too does the plastic of the black garbage bags.
That’s when I see what’s inside.
Bodies.
