HauntingAdeline {1}

C32

The Shadow

Sibby took the fall for the murders.
After chopping the bodies into pieces and loading them in the trunk, we sat on
the hood of my Mustang, where I was once again reminded just how broken this
doll actually is. Sounds like her father was a piece of shit.
Can’t help but muse over the fact that she has a reason to end up the way she
did and I… don’t.
Just as I was getting into my car, the cops pulled up. Sibby refused to get in,
insisting that she needed to stay with her henchmen. Men who don’t actually
fucking exist.
And I didn’t have time to stay and argue. I had chopped up pieces of body parts
in my trunk and needed to not only get away from the police but dispose of the
evidence without getting caught.
So, I left. The police chased me for five miles before I lost them. I have backup
license plates on hand, so once I got to a safe area, I changed my plates and
clothing, burnt the evidence, and drove home.
There are one hundred and sixty-two people in Seattle with the same make and
model, but they’ll never be able to pin anything on me even if they magically
narrowed it down to me.
In the end, the police pinned the murders on a mentally unstable girl and an
unknown accomplice. I figured the Society would look into the crime and find an
unknown accomplice suspicious. Enough to up and move.
But after looking into Sibby myself, I found that she was born into a fucked-up
cult and wanted for the murder of her father.
Her father rivaled Jim Jones, spouting about being God’s disciple and tricking
hundreds of people into believing in his word.
He was a rich man who came from old money. He spent his riches on building
a compound for his followers, confining them to a stretch of land for the rest of
their lives. That’s where Sibby was born and raised, up until she committed a
heinous crime and fled.
There are reports of Sibby’s mother committing suicide via poison, and it
seems that’s what led to the broken doll finally snapping. She snuck into her father’s bedroom at night with a knife and stabbed him to death.
One hundred and fifty-three times to be precise. Rage was a factor. Sibby made
it clear that she is perfectly capable of stabbing a man past her body’s physical
limits if angry enough. Robert was proof of that.
It took three days for them to connect Sibby to murders across the country. All
cities that Satan’s Affair has rooted the haunted carnival in have numerous cases
of missing person reports in each location for the past five years.
If all the people reported missing from Satan’s Affair had connections to her,
Sibby has killed around fifty people.
I was genuinely surprised that the haunted fair didn't come under fire sooner
with so many reports connected to them, but then I had learned that most of the
victims were lowlifes, with very few people that cared enough to look for them.
Whether Sibby was correct in thinking they were demons is subjective. But
what I can say is that even though none of them have records, save for a few petty
crimes, it doesn't seem like they were good people either.
So, in the end, an unknown accomplice will be looked into, but with Sibby’s
past coupled with her claims of having henchmen, there’s a good chance the
murders of the four men will be chalked up to what I had hoped.
Wrong place, wrong time.
She really was the perfect scapegoat. I just wish I didn’t fucking care.
That was three nights ago, and with the threat of the Society relocating, Jay has
been monitoring Savior’s closely. We’ve hacked into their camera feed on the
main floor, and by the looks of it, they’re staying still.
Obviously, no cameras reside in the dungeon. That’d be too easy.
“Any word on the building being demolished?” I ask Jay, my phone to my ear.
“Nope,” he replies, popping the P dramatically. I want to pop him in the face
for it. “You going in tonight?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say, rolling my head and cracking my neck. The tension has already
started seeping into my shoulders. I have a sinking feeling I’m going to see some
shit that will threaten to send me into a tailspin.
But I have to maintain control. If I don’t, I will die before I save those kids, and
that’s just not an option.
“Still keeping an eye on Addie?”
Jay sighs. “Yes…” he trails off, and I can feel the question hanging from the tip
of his tongue. I want to reach through the receiver, snatch it, and crush it before
he can speak, but he’s too quick. “So, uh, this is like the love of your life or some
shit?” he asks awkwardly.
The sigh I try to keep internal bleeds out and through the phone. “The one and
only,” I clip, my tone signaling that I don’t want to speak about Addie right now,
but the fucker doesn’t ever listen when it comes to my personal life.