Your Dark Gospel (Complete)

Chapter Fourteen

The table was set for four. 

Mama, Papa, Tibby, and Elira sat in their usual seats, breathing in the small kitchen's savory scents. Mama had placed several dishes around the center of the table, but atop her finest silver tray sat a rather lumpy-looking loaf of bread, coated in a buttery mix of herbs that Elira had foraged that very morning. Despite the loaf's malformed shape, it smelled delicious. She had spent hours mixing and kneading the dough all on her own, burning more than a few loaves, which she had declared were trial runs. 

She hoped this would be the one that proved to Mama she was ready to help her in the bakery. 

Tibby’s chubby little fingers reached out for the bread, but Mama swatted her hand away and gently tousled the young girl’s strawberry-blond curls. 

“Close your eyes, darlings.” Mama’s tone was firm but still affectionate. “We must thank the goddess for our meal before we eat.” 

Elira followed Mama’s instructions and bowed her head. She waited for the deep boom of Papa’s voice to resonate over the crackle of the fire that burned in the nearby hearth, but all that she found was silence. It was as though the entire world had been snuffed out when her eyes slid shut. 

She swiftly reopened them again to find her family smiling at her. 

Her first reaction was to smile back. Was this some sort of jest? 

But there was something strange about their smiles… something not quite right. She studied her mama’s face, the way the corners of her lips pulled back at an almost impossible width. Yes, something was wrong. Her smile was devoid of the usual warmth and kindness and what was left felt… sinister. Elira’s eyes traveled down Mama’s face to her chest, where something red and wet stained the fabric of her linen dress. She tore her gaze to Papa and Tibby, who bore the same smiles, the same stains. 

“Eat up, little one.” Something red trickled out of Mama’s mouth as she spoke. Her eyes made a show of falling to the empty plate in front of Elira—only it wasn’t empty. 

A severed heart rested upon its surface, oozing crimson blood on the stark white porcelain and… and it was still beating.

Elira jerked from her chair, catching her ankle around the wooden leg and tumbling to the ground, taking the heavy piece of furniture down with her. Laughter echoed from the table as she staggered onto her elbows and flipped onto her back. She could see her parents’ dark hair, and her sister’s strawberry-blond curls, their heads bobbing above the table as they shook with crazed laughter. 

This wasn’t real. 

Her bottom slid across the rug as she crawled backward, desperate to get away from her family. 

This couldn’t be real— 

The palm of her hand pressed down on something solid, and her fingers grazed what felt like the supple leather of a boot. 

She arched her neck to look up at the figure behind her and was met with yet another smiling face. The hairs on the back of her neck stood as recognition set in. 

“Maecus?” she croaked. “Maecus what are you— you can’t be here.” Elira’s brow furrowed in confusion. This didn’t make sense. Maecus couldn’t be here. She met him years after—”