Commissioned [completed]

Chapter 48 - Rest well, Caro

You came-to in a familiar room. It was Terzo's room. His soft silken sheets, his nag champa body wash. All that was missing was him.

You raised your aching head on aching shoulders and ruined ribs, and fuck, your hand was just... you stared at your newly bandaged hand. Surely all that before was.. some kind of satanic weird.. sex culty thing? And Terzo would be back up to no good in no time.

There was no way sister imperator would actually murder Terzo. She needed him to run the clergy and pope about. All three brothers were little baby-making factories for the church, so it made no sense to kill them. It was illogical.

You caught a glimpse of red in the corner of your eye and flinched.

"Caro," Copia extended, his legs crossed politely one over the other and a crumpled bouquet of dead flowers in his hand. He tried to do something with his hands.

"He's not dead," you told him so.

He bit his bottom lip, but you caught it trembling momentarily. "My brothers... my brothers..." he bit both lips hard. "My brothers are dead," he swallowed.

"No." You shook your head defiantly, "—No."

He sniffed, and you looked over at him. His eyes were bloodshot.

"There he is!" Came a too-pleased voice. "Oh, my little Copia."

Your stomach soured, and you looked up to see Sister Imperator. She waltzed in with another man. His hair was shoulder-length and black. For a moment, you thought you were looking at Terzo, but the fur coat was too gaudy even for him.

"Did you bring your lover some flowers? How sweet of you!" she brimmed. She had never been so happy. Terzo was fucking dead, and she had never been so happy. "Oh, how am I ever going to call you Papa?"

Your teeth clenched. So that's what Copia wanted.

"Surely two Papas isn't necessary; there used to only be one," the new man said in a laid-back manner.

"We are changing with the times, Papa Nihil, more Papas, more spread."

Nihil. That was Terzo's fucking dad, and he didn't look like he was in stasis. It looked like he was in his thirties.

"I know I'm going to be doing my fair share of spreading," Papa Nihil purred specifically to Sister Imperator. He was not gloating; he was implying the two of them.

What kind of weird sick shit had she done with Terzo's soul? Reanimated a dream boy? You had no weapons or allies; you could only sit in the bed of your dead, barely cold friend and stare forward. Frustrated tears dripped from your chin.

"Are you going to give them the flowers, Copia~?" Imperator prompted as if he were a child giving flowers to his grandmother.

"Uh, yes.. yes.. maybe with some privacy, si?"

"Ooh, yes, quite right, quite right." She clapped her hands, "Come, Papa Nihil, let's let these two fiends have their fun."

Two fiends, that's what she'd called you and Terzo the night you were supposed to go bowling. She didn't even seem to remember whose room she was in.

"Careful, if you don't scoop them up, Cardinal, maybe I might shoot my shot," the man who ate Terzo's soul said about you.

You didn't respond. How could you? And what would you say?

"Eheh, yeah, yes, good for you, Papa," the Cardinal waved.

The two left the room.

"Lovely fucking parents you have there," you spat.

"Oh, Terzo told you?" He sighed with a slight hitch that told you he was crying.

You couldn't even fucking look at him. He had lured Terzo here. "Hope you enjoy your fucking pope hat." You hissed.

"I see that you are angry," he stood and placed the flowers at the end of the bed by your feet. "Anger is good, one of the essential parts of mourning."

"Fuck off."

"Oh, uh... yes... well, the only thing we can do now is to remember the good times, si?"

"Good times?" You asked incredulously. The man didn't deserve even a moment of Terzo's good times.

Be just kept going, "Terzo and I spent much time growing up together. We were both cardinals together—used to spend much time in this room."

"Was Cardinal not good enough or...?"

He looked down, "It is good you are letting your feelings out... out, heh heh," he laughed with absolutely no mirth, his stache skewing slightly. "Sorry, I just remembered all the times we snuck out of this room; we found you could pry that window off with a spoon and enough pent-up sexual aggression. Oh, we ruled that town."

You frowned and looked up at him.

"Goes to the garage, actually; I was never very good with the bikes. I had a tricycle... leave the motorbikes to Terzo. Shame about all those bikes, but at least I have more room in that garage for other things."

"I don't understand."

"Ah, you're confused; perhaps you need more rest, Caro. I shall leave you to it, si?"

"Si."

"I have hopes.." he cleared his throat, "that you will forget all of this... telling you to wade in..." He shook his head, the black of the coal that surrounded his white eye dripped down his face. "Rest well, Caro." And he was gone.

You were left hollowed out in the empty room. This room knew Terzo better than you did. How would it mourn? Perhaps Sister would gut it and create something that suited her better. An office. A soulless office. What would she tell the congregation? Or did they already know? Did they know how much Terzo had bled for them? And still, it had not been enough.

You looked at Copia's flowers and seized them with an urge to throw something but felt their weight. It was wrong. You unwrapped the dead flowers to find a key and a spoon.

You teared up again. You were crying over a fucking spoon.

You stood, knowing nothing about window joins but with a spoon in your non-ruined hand.

***

The key went to the garage; your van was parked inside, keys and phone on the dash. You peered in the back, where your easels were packed neatly. There was food and a cheque. A big cheque.

You drove away. What else could you do?

You had come with nothing, and you were leaving with nothing. You checked your phone over; something was different... you couldn't pick what. Through bouts of crying, you called Marie. Then you called her again.. and again...

"Who is this?" She picked up after the fifth ring.

"Marie..."

"Oh sweet baby Jesus, ______. You got a new number; that's smart, Bean."

And you were crying again because Marie was safe and because you hadn't changed the number, Copia must have. You didn't understand. "I need to disappear, Marie," you sniffed. Your eyes flickered again to your rearview, scanning for any followers. You saw a pair of mismatched eyes surrounded in khol, and your heart stilled. Right eye the colour of an overcast sea sky—left hospital-wall white.

You looked again, and they were gone.

"I've got you, Bean; tell me what happened."

End of book one.