Hatchetfield.

Hell's Comin' (with Me)

All her life, Grace Chasity had been taught to be good and holy. Kind, good, nice. Everything according to what Jesus Christ would do, what he would approve of.

All her life, Grace Chasity had been left behind, laughed at, and bullied. No one took her seriously besides her parents — and even they still treated her like a child constantly trying to stray.

She barely hears the crunching of twigs and leaves beneath her feet. The darkening of the sky and condensing of the trees around her goes unnoticed as she walks. As does the weight in her hand. Nothing is as important as the whispers and laughter in her head.

She stops, her hand feels light. She's not sure if she's really in control. She's digging. Then she's holding a book. She stares at the symbol etched into the dark cover. It's dark enough to not catch the moonlight filtering through the canopy, dark enough to feel like she was being sucked in.

She's not sure how long she kneels there with the book, but when she stands her face is dry, her thoughts are clear. The body has attracted bugs.

There will be order in Hatchetfield. In the world even. Chastity will rise, she thinks. I am the righteous hand of God. And I am the devil that you forgot.