The Fabric of our Souls

Something sharp pierces my thigh.

My eyes shoot open, fear and adrenaline instantly igniting in my bloodstream. I can’t move my arms or legs—am I tied up? Where the fuck am I?

“Finally. I thought I was going to have to kill your friends without you watching.”

My spine straightens and every hair on my neck rises.

“Crosby? Where are we?”

He unties the blindfold slowly. The light stings my eyes and I wince past the pain of the intrusion before he comes into view. My head throbs and my limbs ache.

I’ve never seen my brother so disheveled. He looks worse than he ever has before. His dark-brown hair is messy, and his light-blue eyes are almost silver in the dim light. What has he done?

“Crosby, what are you doing?” I tug against my restraints but it’s futile. He has me tied like an animal awaiting slaughter.

He tilts his head back and groans like he’s annoyed. “I just told you. Aren’t you listening? I’m going to kill your friends. Since they magically weren’t at Harlow as I was expecting them to be.” He tsks and lowers his head to look me straight in the eyes.

Sweat beads down my forehead and dread fills my chest. Memories of the fire resurface, twisting my insides.

“You didn’t.”

Crosby’s eyes light with his sinister smile and he laughs in my face. “Oh, but I did.”

Horror befalls me. I don’t have the courage to ask how many people survived. I doubt he cares.

He wants the people I love—and he can’t have them. The only thing he’s ever wanted since Neil’s death is to torment me.

“How could you… When did your punishment for me turn into murder? Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” I pull against the restraints to no avail.

Crosby shrugs. His black hoodie is a size too big on him. “It’s not like they were my first.”

I hesitate momentarily before lowering my voice. “The missing patients.”

“Ding ding ding! Took you long enough.”

My heart tears more with each breath I take. “Where did you put them?” I don’t think I’ll survive the night, but even if I don’t, at least someone will have known.

Crosby levels his eyes with mine. Ice flickers through his cold gaze as he grins sinisterly. “A place you’ve been way too many times. Some might say you danced on their graves.”

My eyes widen. “The moonflowers…”

He taps my forehead and nods manically. “All of them but one. Monica got away. That one was smart and witty—she changed everything about herself so fast I never was able to find her. She’s the one that planted those fucking night flowers out there.”

Perry… how did you devolve into this monster? I stare at him with new eyes. A part of me wanted to believe he was still in there, deep, deep down, but Perry is dead. He died with Neil that night. Something else came back in his stead.

“Where are we?” I gnash my teeth together, desperately trying to formulate any sort of plan that could stall him. Lanston and Wynn should be halfway to Boston by now.

They’re safe. They have to be safe.

“In Bakersville. You didn’t think you could hide them, did you? They fucking showed up at Harlow and waited to see your sorry ass dragged out of the fire.” He laughs cruelly.

In Bakersville? No, they were on their way to Boston… “I hate to ruin your fun, but they are far from here,” I say resolutely.

Crosby stops laughing and leans forward, eyeing me like I’m messing with him. When he doesn’t see any wavering in my eyes, he questions himself. Anger flashes across his icy eyes and he grips his hair, talking to himself in hushed whispers. “He’s lying. He’s lying. There’s no way I mistook them. Or maybe… did I? No. No. No. No. This messes up everything. Everything.”

I try to block out his deranged voice as he speaks to himself. My eyes skirt around the small room we’re in—a bathroom. Not one I’ve been in before. Focus, Liam. I take a deep breath and try to think rationally.

My eyes open and I softly say, “Crosby, Mom let me know you and Neil were coming to pick me up.”

Crosby freezes. He turns slowly, his eyes manic and feral as he assesses me.

“Mom told me to be nice to you. You love me, remember?” As much as I resent my mother, at least she always tips me off before he comes. Reminds me of his trigger words. My trigger words too.

Sometimes it works, and I’m really fucking hoping that this is one of those times.

Crosby’s eyes lower to the floor before his demeanor noticeably shifts. A wave of calm and steadiness replaces his crazed, demented side.

I love him dearly, but he’s going to die tonight. He’s not going to hurt anyone ever again. I’ll make sure of it.

He tilts his head and smiles normally at me. “Liam, what kind of game is this?” Perry asks jovially as he unties me.

I only manage a tight, weary smile.

The adrenaline is fading from my bloodstream and the knife wound in my thigh is now throbbing with agony. “A stupid game the seniors were playing. You know them, Perry,” I lie, and he nods easily, believing his older brother like he always has.

This is his true self, Perry Waters, my dear younger brother, who’s stuck in his sophomore year of high school in his head. The one that was in the car with Neil and me when the accident happened. The normal boy who suffered significant brain injuries and couldn’t accept the reality that his eldest brother was dead. The innocent brother I tried to hold onto.

I lost them both that night.

Perry looks at me with confused, frightened eyes as he inspects the odd bathroom. He notices my bloody leg and panics. “Liam, your leg.”

It never gets easier hearing him talk in his childish voice. Looking at an adult man’s face and hearing the innocence he tries to imbue into his tone is chilling.

“I’m okay. Let’s get out of here and find Neil.” It stings, pretending he’s alive and waiting for us. But I’d like to think he’s waiting somewhere for Perry.

He animates and helps me leave the bathroom. It’s a small studio apartment. My heart skips a beat. The pounding in my head is so loud I don’t hear anything else.

That’s Wynn’s duffle bag. Lanston’s baseball cap.

They didn’t leave for Boston.

My breaths are so labored that Perry raises a concerned brow at me. “What’s wrong?” His eyes are bright blue.

It’s already been a few minutes since he phased into Perry. He usually changes back after five or ten minutes—sometimes not for days, but in this escalated environment with me panicking, who knows what will trigger him.

I thank God that the two of them aren’t here. I motion toward the door and we hobble out. Lanston’s Mercedes isn’t here. Momentary relief floods me and my thigh starts throbbing again, reminding me that I’m potentially bleeding out.

“Oh, I parked up there.” I point down the alley toward the lookout. It’s secluded up there; the only people who visit there regularly are me and Jericho… I try to shake the fear that he might not be alive anymore.

Perry laughs. “Why did you park so far?”

I feign a lighthearted shrug and bend over to pretend to tie my shoe. Perry stares out toward town, smiling, indifferent to anything around him.

I look over his belt, finding the revolver I knew he’d have saddled in the holster. He carries it everywhere.

As I stand, I bump into him and grab the gun, shoving it in the band of my pants. Perry looks at me like I’m acting weird and shakes his head disapprovingly.

“You can’t keep getting drunk like this, Liam. Neil’s covered for you so many times. You’re breaking Mom’s heart, you know… following right in Dad’s footsteps.”

That was a low blow I wasn’t expecting.

I was a careless teenager—perhaps I did deserve everything Crosby did to me. It certainly felt earned.

“I know,” I say in a hushed tone. “I promise I’ll stop.”

He smiles. “Good.”

Does it make me a monster if kill him? My heart wavers. He doesn’t mean to be Crosby. He doesn’t…

I stop hobbling as we reach the base of the stairs and ask him for his phone. He rolls his eyes like he can’t believe I lost my phone too.

I dial 911 and wait patiently as the phone rings. Calmly and discreetly, I tell the operator to come to the corner of Berry Street and Tallsaid. When they press me on why, I simply hang up.

“A taxi was probably smart. You shouldn’t be driving when you’ve been drinking,” Perry scolds me.

I flinch. Talking about drunk driving usually triggers him.

He stands placidly for a few seconds and then darkness shrouds his features. His eyes flame with icy fire and that deranged anger takes over again.

I don’t waste a second.

Taking the stairs two at a time sends shock waves through my stabbed leg, but as my fear has reignited, so has a fresh wave of adrenaline.

Crosby watches me with cold, daunting eyes before he sprints up the stairs after me.

I just need to lead him away from them.