The Dead Man

8

"He is protecting her?" Miss Wilson stated, her voice laced with intrigue and a hint of malice, as she turned her attention to Lorenzo. The encounter with Azrael had left her shaken, but instead of succumbing to fear, she saw an opportunity—an opportunity to turn the tables and manipulate the situation to her advantage.
"We can use her against him," she proposed to Lorenzo, her eyes gleaming with a sinister intent. She understood that Azrael's powers had grown beyond her control, and attempting to directly confront him would be a futile endeavor. However, she believed that Sarah, in her proximity to Azrael, could be a potential weapon, a means to halt his deadly rampage. It was a risky plan, but Miss Wilson was desperate for a solution.
Lorenzo, nursing a bruised face with an ice pack, listened carefully to his mother's words. Despite enduring his fair share of punishments throughout his time at the institution, he had earned Miss Wilson's trust and was often privy to valuable information. As her son, he possessed insights into her motivations and plans, and he had observed the growing power and influence of Azrael firsthand.
"He stopped your cane without even being in the room," Lorenzo remarked, emphasizing the impossibility of directly confronting Azrael. "He cannot be stopped anymore. She cannot be used against him because he won't allow it, especially not after what you tried to do."
Miss Wilson's expression soured at the reminder of her failed attempt to harm Sarah. She understood the truth in Lorenzo's words, recognizing the insurmountable barrier that stood between them and Azrael's demise.
"But perhaps," Lorenzo continued, "we might be able to reach him through her. Sarah could potentially intervene and put an end to his killing spree. Isn't that what we wished for all along?"
His suggestion hung in the air, laden with a mixture of hope and uncertainty. The idea of using Sarah as a means to control or influence Azrael was both dangerous and morally questionable, but it was a desperate measure in their fight against the unstoppable force that Azrael had become.
As they sat in silence, contemplating the possibilities and consequences of their plan, the weight of their grief settled upon the entire group. Benjamin's tragic demise had left a somber atmosphere, casting a shadow over their thoughts and actions. Each individual retreated to their rooms, their hearts heavy with loss. He was buried deep in the ground in the yard as many other laid their too.
"Your brother is unpredictable he needs to die, but as it seems he won't. We will have to try your plan, but how do we speak with her without Azrael finding out?"
"I don't know." Lorenzo whispered.
-
"The man who died was one of Mrs. Wilson's sons. He was just like Lorenzo, a normal kid," Becky explained. Azrael had left, and Becky had brought Sarah into her room. Becky's room was covered in salt, and holy water was sprinkled everywhere. Sage burned in two different places.
"This used to be their home. It wasn't always a house for troubled children. Mrs. Wilson tortured and abused her sons for ages. Lorenzo became the perfect, submissive son, but his brother turned evil. As he grew, his soul darkened, and he developed a deep hatred for the world. His animosity towards others was unlike anything anyone had ever seen.
Mrs. Wilson couldn't physically harm her brother when he grew in size," Becky paused, taking a sip of water to collect her thoughts.
"At first, this home was nothing like what you see now. Mrs. Wilson was always a harsh woman with even harsher punishments, but the house was comfortable and welcoming. However, everything changed when the brother began delving into devilish and dark magic. He unleashed the horrors that you see here. He cursed this house and everyone who dwells within it. The moment a person sets foot on this place, the outside world forgets their existence, as if they never existed," she explained, her jaw clenched before taking a deep breath.
"Gradually, his powers began to grow, and everyone noticed. Initially, it was just the eyes that changed. Slowly, his skin grew paler, and his teeth became more pointed. He became a vessel of the devil, carrying out his sinister deeds, much like the Grim Reaper," Becky continued, and Sarah listened intently.
"We decided that this evil should not exist in our world. We wanted him dead. We found a ritual and followed it precisely as it was written. Holy water, crosses, and carving his face. We buried him with soil blessed by the Pope. We believed he was gone, but now he has returned," Becky concluded. Sarah her mouth fell open in awe.
"Wow, that is disturbing," she muttered, rubbing her temple.
"Where is he now?" Sarah asked, her voice filled with concern.
"We do not know," Becky whispered back, shaking her head.
Suddenly, realization set in, and Sarah's emotions surged within her. "You scarred his face?" she asked, struggling to hold back her overwhelming feelings.
"Yes," Becky replied, nodding.
"I have to go," Sarah said, standing up abruptly and leaving without waiting for a response. She ran down the stairs, her feet carrying her swiftly until she stood before the entrance to the maze. Without hesitation, she entered. The moment she stepped inside, the maze closed behind her, but she paid no attention to it. She relied on her intuition, running determinedly until she found herself in the middle of the labyrinth. She couldn't see him, but she could feel his presence. She knew he was there.
"Are you the dead man? Is the room yours?" Sarah cried out, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. How could she have been so oblivious to the signs? Everyone she had ever trusted seemed to betray her in some way.
"Yes," he stated matter-of-factly, and Sarah realized just how naive she had been. This naivety was not really far from her usual self, but she berated herself for not seeing the truth sooner.
"You killed people," she breathed out, shaking her head and rubbing her tear-stained cheeks. "For fun."
She gasped when she felt his presence pressed against her back, realizing the foolishness of running through a shifting maze that he controlled.
"All the people I have killed deserved the punishment of death. Never has an innocent soul left this earth by my hand. That is the reaper's job. My duty is to torment the souls that have inflicted pain upon others, and for that, I have been punished myself," he growled.
"I was brought back to life because I was not finished. I am never finished," he told her, leaning close to her ear. His lips hovered near her skin as he spoke the next words. "And you, my darling, will forever be by my side as I fulfill my duty."
The weight of his words sent a chill down Sarah's spine. She was trapped, entwined with a dark and vengeful soul, destined to be a witness to his eternal task. Fear coursed through her veins, but deep within her, a spark.