Layla

Chapter 6: The Caspartina

Miami, Florida

March 15, 1962

(3:00 pm)

"Pietro," Layla muttered. "You're alive..." 

How was he alive? She had watched him die. She watched as his little body struggled to get air in and suddenly he was gone. She had been there when they buried his ashes in Nordfriedhof in Munich. He couldn't be alive.

That telepath woman had lied to her. She wasn't resistant to telepathy. This was all a trick played by that woman to make her suffer. She had accessed all the worst memories and now she had placed her son in front of her as if he were truly there. No, she was not going to be fooled by this, if she was going to suffer, let it be physical torment... Not the hell of seeing her dead boy. 

The illusion looked at her with equal shock for but a moment. Not unlike Pietro around strangers, this woman truly had been in her mind for some time to have pulled details of not only her personality but her son's as well. 

"Mama?" The illusion asked, looking at her with the same uncertainty she felt. "Du bist zurück!" 

That voice. That same little voice that she had lost was speaking to her, telling her she was back as if she had been the one to leave. 

A thought occurred to her suddenly, could she be dead? Could this be hell? Where she stood before her son, long gone to heaven, and have him turn to dust before her if she approached him? When had she been killed? She didn't feel dead, she felt the same. 

"Ich bin tot," Layla whimpered. "I'm dead." 

She had to be dead. And this was hell. Looking onto her son for all eternity never being able to touch him again. He'd vanish if she got too close, and the devil would appear before her to taunt her for her failures. Her victims would soon follow, screaming at her for not being strong enough to save them. 

Tears overwhelmed her then, sobbing as she tried to make sense of this new reality. She was on her knees now. No escape this time, only fear and pain. 

"Peter, I think you're mother needs a few minutes," Schmidt interceded. "You know how women can be when they're happy. They get all emotional." 

Schmidt was in hell with her? Oh god. Was he the devil? She had often quipped to Erik that Schmidt was the devil himself in their more morbid conversations, but Schmidt is the devil himself? Impossible. The devil was supposed to be an entity that seduced the weak-willed with his charm and terrorized the faithful. Schmidt... Schmidt was not him. 

Could he be a demon then? A servant of Satan himself sent to torment the faithful on Earth? Yes... That was much more plausible. And now he served as her own personal demon in hell. Telling off the little creature posing as her son to keep up the illusion. 

As if the little creature could read her thoughts, and it likely could, it came to her and wrapped his arms around her neck in a hug. And it didn't vanish... But this wasn't her Pietro. This was just a little demon wearing the face of her son. And she just had to sit there and take it. 

The demon would likely hug her and then the torture would begin. She had little to do but sit there and take it. And that was what she was going to do for now, and for all eternity. If she were stronger she would take it, but she was a coward even in death, and she'd scream for this demon all the while he beat her. 

"It's okay mama," The demon child reassured her. "Opa's taken good care of me." 

Opa... Even in death Schmidt still referred to himself as her father. And the little demon was playing along with him. What a fool he was to continue to think she believed it. No, she was just going to wait. She didn't even need to respond, not unless she was forced.