Shadow’s Sinner

Chapter Five

W arm crimson blood splashes against my face as I drag the blade across the wriggling girl’s neck.

The metallic scent of her blood, accompanied by the smell of her piss running down her leg, reaches my nostrils.

Swirling around and mixing with the earthy smell of the dirt, it makes the most exotic aroma.

She pleaded so prettily for me to stop, but I refused.

I watched the sacrifices enter the woods, but I wasn’t expecting her to be one of them.

Her emerald eyes sparkle like jewels in the sunshine.

Freckles splattering her skin like constellations that I wouldn’t be able to miss anywhere.

My little shadow, the one I protected all those years ago.

“Atticus, what took you so long?”

Mr.

Wren asks when I make my way back into his office with the others.

The scowl on his face makes my heart beat harder in my chest.

“Did one of the girls disturb you? Were they out of their rooms? If that’s the case, the punishment will be severe because they know the rules!”

He takes a step toward the door, pushing me out of the way to grasp the doorknob in his meaty palm.

Before he can yank the door open, my father speaks up, making the breath I didn’t realize I was holding hiss out of me.

“I’m sure that Atticus has a perfectly good explanation for taking so long, right, Son?”

My father flicks his eyes to me, nodding his head, directing me to explain why I took a whole minute longer than I was supposed to.

“My shoe came untied, and I had to stop for a moment to tie it again.

My apologies for delaying our meeting, Mr.

Wren.

Your girls are fast asleep in the shadows of their rooms as they should be.”

Smiling at him I take my position beside my father at the front of the room.

Mr.

Wren nods accepting my pathetic lie before we get started.

Watching my shadow as she trudged through the woods was rather amusing.

Seeing her traipse through the brush, and over logs with her long dress made me chuckle.

The rest of the girls on the other hand, made me completely irate.

Their attitudes toward my shadow—unacceptable.

I had to watch from afar as they tormented her with their nasty words.

What I would give to drive my dagger through their hearts.

Watch them bleed out and the life leave their eyes.

One of them currently lays lifeless at my feet having met her demise.

Letting out a sigh, I lean down and drag the girl across the forest floor, leaving a trail of blood in our wake.

She’s a mess—leaves and twigs sticking out of her hair, dirt marring her once-perfect skin.

I catch a whiff of something out of place with the stench of blood, dirt, and piss; an acrid odor that increasingly tickles my nostrils the further I progress through the gnarly brush.

Setting the dead girl down, I look around, trying to find the source of the musty smell.

I spy a heap of freshly spewed vomit on the forest floor amongst the leaves.

Obviously, human and not a sick, rabid animal.

This has to be what my shadow was doing out here alone.

I thought she was peeing when she broke away from the group and was hunched over here.

I stayed far enough away that I couldn’t quite make out what she was doing.

Turning around to head back to where I came from, my boot catches on something soft.

Reaching down, I snag the white cotton fabric from the forest floor.

Bringing it up to my nose I catch the smell of vomit and even fainter, something sweet.

The latter makes me smash my face into the soft panties, inhaling deeply so my brain stores the memory away for a later date.

I’ve never smelt something like this before.

I’ve heard mention of it on the porn videos I have stashed from my late father, but never experienced it in person.

A euphoric feeling that tingles at the base of my spine and travels to my balls as the smell takes over all of my senses.

Gasping out a moan, I stuff the ruined fabric into my cloak pocket.

I know these feelings are wrong, my father made sure that I understood that.

Stroking over the brand on my palm that I was forced to take when I turned twenty to show how serious I was about this.

To prove that I could continue to lead the disciples after my father was long gone.

My jaw ticks with the memory of that night, anger rising to the surface threatening to explode out of me.

I drive my teeth together and breathe through the onslaught.

“Do you, Atticus, swear to the king to guide and protect the disciples when I am no longer here?”

My father stares down at me from his place in the middle of the circle.

The hard ground digs into my knees as I kneel before him and the rest of the congregation.

I gulp hard before I answer yes, knowing what is to come for me.

“Do you, Atticus, swear to the king to remain pure of all evil in this world? To continue along the path of righteousness serving up sinners to the king?”

As he speaks he walks to the fire pit a few feet off to the side and picks up the metal poker laying on the ground.

The tip of it glows orange with a blue tint.

As he walks closer to me, two other cloaked figures walk behind me, grabbing my arms, and holding me tight.

The one on my left holds my hand out to my father, gripping my wrist so tight I fear it might break.

My father looks at me, waiting patiently for me to answer.

Taking a deep breath to calm myself, I look up into my father’s eyes and pledge, “I, Atticus, swear to the king to remain pure from evil and protect and guide the disciples along the path of righteousness after you have gone.”

As soon as the last word leaves my mouth, my father brings the brand with the symbol of Saturn down on my palm.

The sizzling sound hisses through the air as the scent of burning flesh chases it.

A pained scream rushes out of my throat and echoes through the trees.

The brand throbs on my hand as the memories seep away, leaving me to catch my breath.

I’m so tired of following these fucking rules.

I didn’t want this.

My father made me what I am today, and I’m not sure I like it.

I hear the screams of the sacrifices ricocheting off the trees, looking for Samantha while she lays dead on the ground next to me.

Retrieving a dagger from my cloak pocket, I grasp it tightly and stalk toward the frantic-sounding girls.

It is time to select my next victim.