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Ezekiel ascends the stairs, each step making the treads groan. Realizing I’m half naked, I retreat into the spare bedroom and peep through the door.
“Chappy?” Ezekiel asks.
When the taller man doesn’t answer, Ezekiel continues to the top of the stairs and turns on the light.
“Oh, fuck,” he roars.
“What is it?” Relaney screeches.
“There’s blood.” He gags. “It’s pouring from his mouth.”
My breath catches. I shut the door and rest my head on the wood, all the while trembling at the presence in my room. It’s strange how it’s finally dawning on me, after all this time, that Xero is dangerous. I knew he was a killer all along, yet I still wrote him those letters.
Even after discovering the extent of his murdering, Icontinued our relationship. I felt safe in the knowledge that he couldn’t touch me on death row. I could open up to him in a way I couldn’t with other men because our association would be finite.
Now, as a ghost, his actions are a betrayal of our sacred bond. Sure, I failed him, but the Xero I grew to love knew me to the depths of my soul. He would have understood why I wasn't at the wedding.
I thought I knew him, but seeing Chappy's body tore off my rose-tinted contacts. Xero isn't just a tortured soul who avenged his childhood tormentors. He's a murderer. I can't allow him to continue this jealous killing spree. I need to end this, even if it means taking a boatload of my meds.
Relaney rushes up the stairs and wails at Ezekiel to check that I’m alive. When he doesn’t make a move, she sobs harder.
“Turn around,” Xero says.
“No.”
“I will not ask you twice. Turn, or watch your other friends swing.”
I push back from the door to meet his eyes.
The entire room is encased in darkness. I turn to the window, but the curtains are now shut.
“Where are you?” I whisper.
“Watching.”
My stomach churns. “What do you want from me?”
“Get dressed. Go downstairs and return to number 13. Shower off that dust and wait for me on your bed.”
“What about the police?”
“Mention anything about ghosts and you’ll become one.”
“So, I’m still alive?”
He chuckles. “Without me to brighten your days and nights, you’d still be dead inside.”
I swallow hard, hating that he’s right. Writing to Xero was the most exciting thing that ever happened to me, which isn’t difficult, considering over a third of my memories are blank. It’s almost like I didn’t exist before the age of ten, but the photos I found in Mom’s album prove otherwise.
A knock sounds on the door. “Amethyst?” Ezekiel asks. “Are you alright?”
“Get rid of him,” Xero hisses. “If he sees any part of your body, I won’t just pluck out all four of his eyes. Trust me when I say you won’t like where I’ll put them.”
Shudders run down my spine, and I grimace. Somehow, I don’t think he’ll stuff them into an envelope under my pillow. Ignoring Xero, I say, “I’m fine.”
“Come out,” Ezekiel says. “Relaney’s just called for an ambulance and the police.”
“Wait a minute. Let me get dressed.”
