In the time that passed after Zane’s betrayal of the Gate Keepers—everyone’s routines carried on a little differently.
Ariella, Arkus, Tammy, and Jaxson spent all their time together without Zane or Lucy; during psychology class, Zane and Lucy sat in the far back corner, nowhere near where their former friends always sat. The two of them always handed in their assignments without giving Rodney any comments or small talk, and on the days of the podcast recordings, the two of them left class early while Ariella and her remaining podcaster friends stayed behind to do their show. The four of them still visited the church as well, hanging out with Julian with no Zane or Lucy nearby, and occasionally, Ariella’s gang would drive out to Rodney’s place to spend the night or chat the afternoons away, many of their evenings filled with a simple sort of pleasure—talking, swapping stories, observing nature, listening to music, and periodically passing a joint around. The chemistry of the podcast hadn’t changed much, though there were many comments on the internet asking questions about Zane and Lucy’s departure. Jaxson gave his fans a vague explanation that involved ‘creative differences’and left it at that. After all, Jaxson and his friends didn’t know what Zane and Lucy were up to now, and they didn’t much care anymore.
In fact, Zane and Lucy didn’t much care for their old friends, either; the two of them were far too immersed in the events of their new brotherhood, as Zane was climbing the ladder of leadership rapidly in Xi Phi Beta, and he had plans he intended to enact someday soon.
Vance was no longer playing detective for the time being; he returned to his private investigator routine, snooping around various areas by himself and taking pictures of places of interest, though his lonesome investigating was yielding little fruit as of now. He planned to visit the old Hunter family’s property alongside Lumis, but Lumis hadn’t yet found the time, as he was busy with both work and home drama. The detective and his son were sleeping over at Vance’s house almost exclusively now, and Lumis spent a lot of his spare time trying to discuss issues and arrangements with Marissa over the phone or meeting with his Harbor County divorce lawyer.
The protesters in Gates Mill continued to man the streets every day, and the media never stopped reporting about the Cutthroat Killer, keeping the fearful hype high despite that he’d fallen off the radar for a couple of weeks.
Cutthroat was giving himself a much-needed break. He spent this time alone in his shack, powering on his generator and charging his phone, listening to the Gates Mill Gate Keepers Podcast, and repeatedly reviewing his wall of rotten trophies, occasionally stroking the scar on his cheek. After his close call on Harland Drive, he knew to lay low for a little while. As the killer’s quiet days passed, he noticed something disturbing on the podcast—that two members of it had disappeared with little explanation. Perhaps he ought to scope them out from afar once more. Clearly, something was going on with the Gate Keepers that he knew nothing of—and for various reasons, he couldn’t afford to let any information about the podcasters slip by him.
On the day of Boomsday—the yearly celebration in the park that involved glow sticks, concession stands, and fireworks—Ariella and her friends were alone with Julian at the church, helping him to string black and orange streamers along the walls. His Halloween celebration was approaching, and the church was beginning to look ready for the event.
Once the streamers were up, Arkus, Jaxson, and Tammy raced upstairs to the game room. Ariella laughed, sitting on the edge of the foldable stage in the gym and lying backward overtop of it, feeling exhausted.
Julian sauntered over to her, sitting beside her and giving her a gentle smile.
Ariella spotted him, sitting upright again and combing her hairs down.
“I just wanted to say,” Julian said sincerely. “I really appreciate everything you’ve done.”
“Oh… don’t worry about it,” Ariella replied nonchalantly. “I like helping.”
“No… it’s not just that,” Julian remarked, nodding at the streamers. “I mean, since… since that awful thing happened here… I don’t know. I really don’t think I could’ve coped without you.”
Ariella raised her eyebrows at him. “Really?”
“Absolutely,” Julian chuckled. “You really don’t see the difference you make to the people around you… and you don’t see how strong you are, either.”
Ariella stared down at her lap. “I don’t know… I just wanted to start doing things instead of hiding from everything.”
“Well… you’ve definitely succeeded in that,” Julian assured.
He gave her a pat on the back and stood, then whipped around to face her again.
“Oh—I keep forgetting,” Julian said, raising his finger. “I found Lucy’s hair broach thingy in the bathroom upstairs. Do you know when she’s coming by? I need to give it back to her.”
Ariella’s smile faded away. She inhaled heavily and explained the entire story of Zane’s betrayal to Julian.
When she finished, the youth pastor stared vacantly at her, his mouth hanging slightly agape.
He was silent for several seconds, making Ariella suspect that something grave was on his mind.
“What?” she asked, reading his expression.
“I…” Julian gulped, fidgeting with his sleeves and glancing around, appearing strangely nervous all the sudden. “Uhm…”
“Julian,” Ariella said seriously, patting the spot beside her. “Come here. What’s up?”
Julian sighed stressfully, sitting next to her again and giving her a long, profound stare, his grateful smile now gone without a trace.
“Ari,” he said softly. “You know how I… how I told you… I have a confession system here in the youth wing?”
“Yeah,” Ariella muttered oddly.
“Well, he…” Julian mumbled into his lap, adjusting his hat and his glasses repeatedly. “Zane told me… he… no… no, I can’t tell you.”
“Why not?”
“Because… I’ve never broken that confidentiality before. Everyone comes to me with their worst secrets, and I let them confide in me so they can absolve their sins… and ask for forgiveness… and it’s just… between them and God.”
“Julian,” Ariella responded. “Zane doesn’t deserve that loyalty from you. If there’s something about him I need to know, please just tell me.”
Julian replied with a terribly conflicted look. “I promised… I promised God I wouldn’t betray the trust of…”
“Julian—if there is a God, then I honestly think he’d understand,” Ariella stated. “You’re protecting us. If you tell me what you know, we can be more careful. We can watch for certain behaviors from him. I know he’s probably gonna hold a grudge, and if he’s willing to actually do something to us, that’s something I really need to know.”
Julian stared downward, releasing a cloud of breath. He reached over, gently clasping Ariella’s hand and glaring down at his feet, looking almost haunted by his thoughts.
The atmosphere of the empty gym seemed to thicken with tension, and Ariella observed him worriedly, sliding her hand over his and feeling that something was terribly amiss. She’d never seen him so distraught before—not since the night of the protesters’ murders.
“Just tell me,” Ariella said tenderly. “We’re not gonna tell anybody else. I promise.”
“If he finds out,” Julian breathed. “If he finds out I told you…”
“Then he won’t do a damn thing about it,” Ariella assured powerfully. “We won’t let him.”
Juilian met her gaze, looking touched and flashing a brief smile, tightening his grasp on her hand. He took in a deep, bracing breath, and he forced the words out.
“It was a few years ago,” Julian began. “I had to break up a fight between Zane and another guy. When I pulled Zane aside, I tried to talk to him. And then, he… he just unloaded. He told me he was dealing with some unspeakable abuse from his cousin as a child, and that went on for years. His mother and father are both decent people. They just didn’t notice the abuse until… until the damage was done. And, he told me… he… ever since then… he…”
Julian paused, clearing his throat and speaking on.
“Zane has… delusions,” Julian informed. “Powerful ones. I believe it to be demonic influence… but he thinks he’s just destined to act on his delusions somehow. He says he feels like he’s meant to do something spectacular… something of… immense grandeur. And… he has delusions about… hurting people. Raping people, and hurting people. He says he has them almost constantly, and he feels a powerful urge to act on it. I’m pretty sure he thinks it’s his way of enacting some justice for what was done to him… by taking out that same vengeance on the world around him. He… he honestly believes the entire world deserves to suffer at his hand.”
“Deserves…” Ariella murmured thoughtfully, mulling deeply over everything Julian said.
“He has a serious problem with playing God… like a narcissist would. I tried to tell him… I tried to explain that the demons of his past are simply haunting him,” Julian went on. “And he has to let go… hand it all over to God… maybe see a therapist… and… and just let it go. I told him that was necessary if he wanted to get rid of his disturbing thoughts. But then, he… he looked at me with the coldest look I’ve ever seen on a human being… and he said… ‘I don’t want to stop them. I didn’t tell you this because I wanted help—I told you this because the rest of the world needs help, and that’s why I act the way I do. And you know what? There’s not a damn thing you and your made-up God can do about it.’ After that, he… stood up to leave, and then he stopped… turned to me, and he said… ‘If you tell anyone, I will eff-ing kill you.’ He smiled at me, and then… he just… walked out. I haven’t spoken to him one-on-one ever since.”
Ariella gently stroked his hand, her stomach turning, a dark sense of severity weighing on her as she pondered on Zane and his secretive sinister side.
Suddenly, many things made more sense to her; in all her time visiting this church now, Zane and Julian hardly ever seemed to speak to each other, never laughing or joking together and never even maintaining so much as eye contact with one another. Now, she understood why.
“And now… it sounds like… he’s finally acting on his delusions,” Julian mumbled grimly.
Ariella nodded quietly, her visage riddled with grave concern. “And he’s after me, too…”
“What?” Julian barked, suddenly looking alarmed.
“No, I mean… he’s after… dating me,” Ariella clarified. “He always gives me these creepy smiles, and he always makes some weird little comments about the things I do… and Arkus straight-up told me that Zane liked me, so…”
“Ari,” Julian exhaled. “Has he ever asked you out? Have you ever turned him down? Does he have any reason to be upset with you over—?”
“No, no—nothing like that ever happened between me and him,” Ariella responded. “He never acted on it. He never made it obvious at all. I had no idea he even liked me until Arkus told me.”
Julian let out a heavy breath. “Well, okay, that’s good… but he’s clearly acting on his desires more than he used to. So, just… please… be careful.”
He patted the top of her hand, giving her a kind smile.
Ariella replied with a confident smirk. “Nothing’s gonna happen. Don’t worry about it.”
“Ari,” Julian said sweetly, tightening his grip on her hand once more. “I would like to pray for you right now. Would you mind?”
Ariella gulped, Eddie’s face briefly flashing through her mind, but she quickly forced the memory away. “No, I don’t mind. Go ahead.”
Rather than beginning his prayer right away, Julian reached his feet and straightened up, standing over her and tenderly clasping either side of her face, his eyes drifting shut.
Ariella felt her heart make a nervous jump, and suddenly, she found herself reliving a time far gone—when Eddie the Great would take her into his arms, hug her, gently grasp her face, and assure her that everything would be all right.
So many times, that occurred.
It was the only thing that ever made her feel any brief glints of happiness during all of her time in foster care, whenever Eddie was there, when he would comfort her, when he would pray for her in his church and allow her to sing along with him and his chorus on the stage of his beautiful holy sanctuary.
And now—as Julian gingerly held her face in his gentle grasp, Ariella could practically see it all again, the gorgeous glow of the stain-glass windows, the crowd in the church pews clapping along with the music before her, the feeling of elation that would arise inside her whenever she sang the holy songs along with Eddie and his church goers. His wonderful smile and his bottle green eyes returned to her mind in full, the same compassionate smile and eyes Julian had.
After witnessing the horrific death of Eddie Grant, Ariella never allowed herself to ponder too deeply on this aspect of the past, never let herself think deeply about the notions of God or Heaven, and never set foot in another church until her first arrival here at Gates Mill Church of God. She used to pray when she was under Eddie’s care, but after he died, she never partook in a church prayer again. Not until now.
Somehow—perhaps by Julian’s divine touch, by the grace of God, or simply because of Ariella’s newfound outlook on life—for the first time in many years, she felt comfortable enough, at peace enough to indulge the act of praying once more, to allow her eyes to calmly drift closed, immersing her mind in the serenity that came with prayer and releasing her thoughts to the simple idea of a holy being absolving her of them.
“Dear Lord,” Julian began in a smooth, comforting voice, his thumbs soothing as they stroked along her cheeks. “Please… protect this young, strong soul from any and all who would harm her. Ariella Callaghan and her friends have become heroes to this community. Heal and protect them, Lord… and allow them safety and peace. Ari has become a dear friend of mine, always helping, and always worrying. She is a powerful vessel for your holy grace, someone who spreads your love to everyone around her, and fights fiercely to protect them. So, please… protect her with all your might, Lord, and absolve her of all worry, and stress, and doubt. Protect her from anything that would do her any harm, anything that is not of the Kingdom of The Lord, our God… Amen.”
Ariella’s eyes were shut, her mind lost amidst a cloud of clarity, smiling faintly as she replayed every uplifting encounter with Eddie as a child, the beaming sun in the stain-glass windows, the chorus of the gospel songs, the hugs and the smiles…
Then, somewhere amidst the rare clarity in her mind, her thoughts ventured into a darker place, her hands reaching out and grabbing something… a doorway propped open by a something on the floor, legs extending from the kitchen area across… a dark figure approaching her … her brief glimpse at the scene in passing, darkness in the living room, dim light bleeding out from the kitchen… a croaking voice… two people… lying there…
Ariella’s eyes opened instantly, her expression suddenly alert. Her mouth hung slightly agape, and she stared up at Julian as if she’d never seen anything as astonishing as him before.
Julian calmly released her face, smiling warmly down at her.
“I’ve never thought about that when I was awake,” Ariella breathed.
“Thought about what?” Julian asked.
“That… dream,” Ariella muttered, glimpsing down and feeling surprised. “That… that was the clearest I’ve ever seen it.”
“Seen what?”
“I don’t know, it… it’s this recurring dream I used to have when I was little,” Ariella explained. “But I never… I never had that dream while I was awake before.”
“Sounds more like a memory, then,” Julian determined. “God’s trying to tell you something. Seems like something opened up your mind a little bit just now.”
“It’s not just God,” Ariella murmured, slowly standing upright. “It’s… you .”
Julian raised his thin brows at her. “How could it be me…?”
Ariella sighed, her expression softening as she stared into him, absorbing every detail of his face and feeling her heart ache with a painful surge of empathetic recollection. Julian’s face and body weren’t the same shape as Eddie’s, and his hair was styled very differently—but his eyes, his smile, and his compassion were all identical. Julian’s disarming emerald stare once belonged to her first pastor, as did his warmth and kindness, that comforting care and that green gaze, that beautiful sense of serenity that her pastor once brought her, which was her only source of peace and happiness all those years ago…
Eddie was the first and only person she ever opened up to when she was venturing in and out of foster homes. And now, Julian—with his caring nature, his green eyes, and the odd sense of safe familiarity he brought her—had resurrected that old feeling that Ariella once thought dead and gone, the feeling of trust and safety, something she only felt for Eddie as a kid, and she didn’t feel it again until years later, when she finally grew to trust her savior, Vance Callaghan.
Only now, her trust resided with more than simply her father and her friends. She now trusted the idea of walking into a church, of having a new pastor, and even of praying for the first time since the passing of Eddie Grant.
But as she gazed profoundly into him, she knew she couldn’t explain it if she tried. So, Ariella resolved to give him a sincere, thankful smile, pulling him into a hug and embracing him tightly.
“Oh…” Julian blinked, somewhat taken back, but he returned the hug regardless.
Ariella held him close, staring over his shoulder and feeling closer to him than ever—not in the same way as Arkus, nor Vance or Rodney. Julian resembled something different, an idea of peace and trust that she once thought died with Eddie, but that turned out not to be the case.
She trusted Vance with her life, as he was her absolute hero. She grew to trust Arkus and Rodney—Arkus being the sweet, fun, and caring object of her desire—Rodney being a source of paternal wisdom she valued greatly. And now, she trusted Julian as a source of comfort and support, the same way she trusted Eddie so long ago.
And the longer she pondered on it, the deeper her assertion became. She felt indebted to him, as if Julian was undoubtedly responsible for this small awakening of hers, and for this feeling of comfort that she spent years of her life avoiding out of caution or fear.
As she embraced him tightly, something that Rodney said appeared in her mind.
Rodney once told her to look after her pastor—and in the wake of the Cutthroat Killer’s reign of blood, and with Zane’s wild and violent betrayal against all of them, Ariella was determined to see that through.
“I’m not gonna let anything happen to you this time,” she murmured faintly into his collar.
Julian made a thoughtful expression, his chin resting on her shoulder and his hand gently stroking her back. After a moment of thought, he took a step back, grasped her by the arms, and gave her a somber stare.
“Are you okay?” he asked her.
Ariella beamed at him. “Yeah. I’m really... really okay now.”
Julian read her intently for a moment, then smiled and released her. “Okay… good. And, listen, Ari… if you ever need to talk, don’t hesitate to come and find me. You’ve been there for me, and I’d like to return that favor to you.”
“Oh… you have ,” Ariella told him. “You definitely have.”
Julian returned her smile, and seconds after, the ambient sounds of voices became louder. Arkus, Tammy, and Jaxson thumped down the stairs, appearing on the other side of the gym.
“Oy!” Arkus shouted at Ariella, his voice echoing across the spacious room. “We gotta go if we wanna get a good spot!”
Ariella nodded, turning to Julian again.
“We’re gonna go to Boomsday,” she explained. “You wanna come?”
“Oh, no… I appreciate the offer, but I have somewhere to be tonight,” Julian replied politely. “You guys have fun.”
“We will as long as Zane doesn’t show up,” Jaxson remarked. “We planned to go to Boomsday weeks ago. But, everything got flipped and messed up since then, so… hopefully, Zane’s not still planning on going…”
“Wouldn’t matter if he was,” Arkus said confidently, cracking his knuckles. “You got your Glasgow boxer right here.”
“ Boxer? ” Tammy scoffed. “Arkus—you bashed your skull in his face and busted his nose. How is that boxing? ”
“I didn’t say it wasn’t dirty,” Arkus laughed. “My hard-ass skull is like a third fist. Only better.”
Ariella and her friends said their goodbyes to Julian, then headed toward the double-doors across the room.
The doors were both propped open with cinderblocks, as they often were this time of day—and the man standing outside heard their approaching footsteps, quickly concealing himself behind one of the doors.
Ariella carried on conversation with her friends as they all strolled outside, venturing across the parking lot and climbing into the truck. Arkus started the engine and drove off, the truck coasting across the pavement and vanishing down the hillside.
Cutthroat slowly emerged from behind the open door, wearing his day clothes—his fedora, with a smaller brim than his usual hat, a clean dark button-up and a pair of black pants, a long, stylish leather jacket draped over him.
His eyes pensively followed the truck until it was out of sight, and he sighed deeply, pondering on everything he’d overheard inside the church.
His mind fixated on one fact above all the others; evidently, the former podcast member named Zane had become outwardly violent toward Ariella and the others, and he had a psychotic lust to partake in the wicked acts of rape and murder.
Cutthroat was unsure if the boy would act on these feelings or not, but he knew one thing for certain; he needed to observe all of them more closely, needed to see if Zane would try to make his immoral desires a reality.
He’d have to keep a damn close eye on the podcasters now.
“ Boomsday? ”
Vance was seated on the hood of his car, his old black Impala parked down the road from an unlikely suspect’s home. He’d been watching the house all day until he received a phone call from Lumis, and now, he wore a questioning face, holding the phone close to his ear and awaiting an answer.
“Yes, Vance. Boomsday,” Lumis confirmed. “Max really wants to go, and it’s the only window of free time I’ve had all week. If you wanna talk—and go scope out the Hunters’ property afterward—then you’re gonna have to meet me at Boomsday.”
Vance swallowed a groan, shaking his head and sighing irritably. “I really can’t stand Boomsday, Bill…”
“Why?” Lumis asked. “You used to take Ari there every year.”
“Yeah… and I don’t miss it one bit,” Vance grumbled.
“What do you have against cheap food and fireworks?”
“It’s just… loud. And obnoxious. And crowded. And obnoxious.”
“You said obnoxious twice.”
“It’s really obnoxious, Bill.”
Lumis chuckled. “Just meet me there, all right? I’m about to head over there now.”
“Fine. Seeya.”
They both hung up, Vance climbing into his car and driving off. As he did—a fair distance away, Cutthroat was on his way to the park as well, Lumis driving his son there, and Arkus drove his friends to the same destination.
The place was as spacious as it was lively; a wide open field was in the center of the park, where families and friends were gathered in large groups, spreading out their foldable chairs and picnic blankets and preparing to watch the fireworks. A parallel pair of concrete walkways resided on either side of the enormous field, each of them with concession stands, toy and glow stick stands, and small food trucks lined up and down the far sides, many people standing in line to purchase food and other items. To the south of the great open field was a small manmade river, and on the other side of the river, people were shuffling about and setting up all the fireworks for the soon-to-come show. North of the field, across the clearing of pavement that connected to the parallel walkways, was a bathroom building; the bathroom building was constructed in a hut-like manner, a dingy open walkway in the center of it, bathroom entrances on either side. The bathroom building was off in the corner of the large property, bordering the woods, and across from it, the pavement clearing was connected to an elongated parking lot, where numerous vehicles were parked now.
Lumis had spread out a blanket on the field of grass, he and Max sitting on it and arguing about spending money on glow sticks. The two of them were joined by Vance when the sunset had dimmed into a cool Texas twilight. Vance sat on the edge of the blanket, Max in between him and Lumis. It wasn’t long before the PI was lying on his back, his arms outstretched behind his head. He patiently waited for the noisy celebration to get itself over with, and his eyes closed, drifting into a light, cozy sleep as Max and Lumis conversed beside him.
Zane spotted Vance and Lumis from a distance, Lucy excitedly grabbing numerous glow sticks and cotton candies from the concession stand, Zane standing behind her, glaring into the field and eyeing the detective and his PI closely. Once Lucy had purchased everything she wanted, she waved for Zane to join her, and the two of them meandered off to their own spot farther down the field.
Ariella laughed and joked with her friends as they marched down the parking lot, carrying Arkus’s blankets and repeatedly lifting them off the pavement, as they occasionally fell out of their foldings and dragged along the ground. The four of them chose a spot on the opposite side from where Vance and Lumis were, near the far corner and perfectly aligned with the woods and the bathroom building. Once they set everything up, Arkus and Jaxson wandered off to buy everyone snacks, leaving Ariella and Tammy sitting alone on the blankets.
“So… now that we’re alone, I wanna ask you something,” Tammy said.
Ariella faced her, leaning back on her arms. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Um…” Tammy zipped up her tight leather jacket halfway, glancing down and seeming to be deep in thought. “Just a shot in the dark, random hypothetical situation, may or may not ever happen… but…”
She paused, repeatedly fidgeting with her earrings and biting her lip.
Ariella observed her, revealing a coy smirk. “You look nervous. I never seen you nervous.”
“Yeah, well… I’m kinda thinking about doing something, and I know you’re thinking along the same lines,” Tammy informed, meeting her eyes and looking oddly serious. “If… if you started dating Arkus, and if I started dating Jax… do you think our friend group might get screwed up?”
Ariella stared, her brows raising and her smile growing.
Tammy returned the stare blankly, though her cheeks seemed to be flushing a faint pinkish hue.
“What do you mean?” Ariella asked. “How would it get screwed up?”
“Well, just…” Tammy sighed and shrugged. “I don’t know, it just… it seems like it could either be really good, or really bad. No in between.”
“How so?”
“You know… like… if it doesn’t work out between you and Arkus, or if it doesn’t work out with me and Jax… then none of us could just hang out all casually like this anymore. I really… I’m really thinking I wanna go for it, but… I don’t wanna mess everything up.”
“Tammy—I thought you didn’t like Jax,” Ariella pointed out. “You turned him down last year.”
“Well, I just… I don’t know,” Tammy grumped. “Looking back on it now, I think… I think I liked him too much. Me and my friends in high school just dated people for the fun of it, but with… with Jax, it feels a lot deeper. I figured that was just how it worked with friendships, but… it seems like more than that…”
“Okay… you want my honest opinion?” Ariella said. “It seems like you’ve always been kinda aloof and carefree about everything, so… when you get serious feelings, it just kinda scares you, and you don’t know what to do with it, so you just end up backing off. It’s just not something you have like… a lot of experience with.”
“I know that , Ari,” Tammy scoffed with a laugh. “I know I’m screwed up in the head. That’s not the part I need help with. I just don’t wanna mess up our friend group. Ever since Zane and Lucy broke off from us, it…”
She paused, gazing across the field and releasing a distressed sigh.
Ariella read over her troubled expression, recalling every instance in the past when she’d seen Tammy and Lucy attached at the hip. It seemed the two of them were inseparable until Zane severed that deep connection.
“It hurts,” Tammy admitted. “Lucy used to be my best friend. Before I met you, she was the only girlfriend I had. She was the only friend I managed to keep after high school. I thought that actually meant something, but… she made her choice, and she chose that narcissist over me. Over all of us. I really just don’t want the rest of us to break apart like that…”
“I honestly don’t think we will,” Ariella said truthfully. “We’re all pretty close now. So… if we dated Arkus and Jax… I’m pretty sure it would work out. Hell, we could all tag-team.”
Tammy’s eyes widened. “ What? ”
“No—not like wife-swapping or anything,” Ariella quickly added, chuckling and shaking her head. “I mean we could all help each other. If we had any problems, or if one of us got in a fight, or something—we could pull each other aside and talk it out, then come back to the relationship problems with a clearer head. We all know each other well enough to help each other get through that stuff, and none of us are the type to take sides. The four of us being together would give us an advantage. We’d have a lot more help and support than just a single couple by themselves.”
Tammy slowly nodded, hugging her knees and wearing a profound visage. “I didn’t think of that. That’s a good point…”
“So… Jax,” Ariella smiled, gently nudging against her. “You’re gonna go for it…?”
Tammy turned to her and smirked. “Oh, I’m gonna make that boy a man .”
The two of them exploded into giggles, snickering and smacking the blanket. Then, Ariella glanced back, seeing that Arkus and Jaxson were standing behind them now, holding various drinks and snacks and staring down at the girls strangely—which made her laugh even harder.
“What the hell are you laughing at?” Jaxson asked, trying to adjust his crooked hat even though his hands were full.
“Oh my God… again with the freaking hat! ” Tammy exclaimed, lying fully on her back and jutting her arms up at Jaxson dramatically. “Do you need a feathered neckbeard hat when you’re watching fireworks?!”
“Why hell yes I do,” Jaxson snarked in response, smirking and cocking his head. “Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m man-pretty .”
Everyone busted with laughter, the boys carefully setting the foods down and handing off two of the drinks to the girls. Tammy grinned, scooting closer to Jaxson and pressing her side against his comfortably. Ariella smiled as she watched the two of them, then turned to face Arkus, who was seated on the edge of the blanket beside her, sipping quietly on his beverage and staring across the field.
“Hey… what’s up?” Ariella asked, softly bumping her shoulder to his. “You look distracted.”
Arkus met her gaze, glimpsing between her and the field a few times. “I just saw Zane.”
Ariella’s smile faded. “He’s here?”
“Aye,” Arkus nodded. “He’s here with Lucy, sitting way down the field over toward the water.”
“Well… he’s nowhere near us,” Ariella shrugged. “It’ll be fine.”
“Hope so,” Arkus muttered grimly. “Because if he comes over here and starts anything, I swear to God…”
“Arkus,” Ariella said tenderly, leaning slightly closer and giving him a deep, reassuring stare. “It’s gonna be fine. It’s a nice night, and we’re all here, and everything’s peaceful and awesome right now.”
Arkus gazed into her, only just realizing how close the two of them were now.
A subtle tension evolved between the two of them, though it wasn’t a grave or uncomfortable one. Ariella and Arkus merely shared a deep, longing sort of stare, and then—despite the anxiety rising up inside him—Arkus chose to act on his first impulse, sliding his hand over and tightly grasping hers.
Ariella’s heart fluttered, and she smiled, squeezing his hand and scooting closer to him.
The two of them remained like this for a while, lost to a peaceful serenity that put them entirely at ease, both of them occasionally sniggering at the snide comments Tammy and Jaxson shot at one another.
Night had fallen entirely now, and across the north side of the field—where Lumis, Max, and Vance resided—Vance was fast asleep, lying on his back and snoozing lightly into the air, his mouth slightly open, his expression oddly peaceful compared to its usual pensive state.
Max hovered over Vance for a moment, examining him closely before turning to his father.
“Why’s he sleeping?” Max inquired. “He’s gonna miss the fireworks.”
“Ah… he doesn’t really care for Boomsday,” Lumis told his son. “He’s just waiting for it to be over so we can follow a lead.”
“You’re gonna do cop work tonight?” Max asked interestingly. “Can I go?”
“You kinda have to,” Lumis said. “Unless you wanna go home to your mother.”
Max shook his head fervently, making his father chuckle.
“Are we staying at Vance’s again tonight?” the boy wondered.
“Yeah,” Lumis nodded, his smile wavering. “We might end up staying at Vance’s for a while here soon.”
“Why?” Max pestered. “Are you and Mom getting a divorce?”
Lumis sighed heavily. “Maybe. She and I have been talking out every last little thing here lately… but I’ve got my lawyer ready. We just have to figure some things out, son.”
Max frowned, glancing between Vance and his father again. “Why does she hate him so much?”
Lumis released another cloud of breath. “I don’t know. I used to have another partner on the force, and she hated him, too. I think she just hates everyone who takes my time away from her.”
“Why?”
“Because… you’re mother is… complicated. She wants me to spend all my time with her, but considering the way my job is right now… that’s just not a realistic expectation. Besides that, I…” Lumis paused, glimpsing down at the sleeping Vance and grimacing deeply. “I think I should be allowed to have friends without her penalizing me for it.”
“You and Vance are friends?” Max asked. “I thought you were partners.”
“Well… we’re both,” Lumis shrugged. “You can have more than one type of kinship with a person, Max. Like, me and your mother… we were a couple, but we were also friends. You don’t just have to be one thing or the other.”
“I thought you just had friends outside of everything else you do? Like… friends are the people you hang out with when you’re not doing work stuff.”
“Life gets a little more complicated than that… especially when you get older. Nothing is totally just split down the middle.”
“Oh…”
Max stared down at Vance, Lumis observing his son intently.
“Did he ever kill anyone?” the child whispered, gesturing to Vance. “Do you know…?”
Lumis stared at him, his mind wandering back to the bizarre phone conversation he’d had with Marissa a while back. Quite honestly, he knew Vance must’ve taken lives at some point—but neither he nor Vance were privy to the details. Besides, he didn’t want to divulge such information to his ten-year-old son.
So, he simply sighed and replied with an explanation rather than an answer.
“Max,” Lumis said seriously, leaning closer. “He was a soldier. He might’ve had to kill people at some point. But… he was fighting for his country. Not to mention, he’s helped us both a lot , now hasn’t he?”
Max slowly nodded.
“So,” Lumis uttered. “If he has killed people… you wouldn’t think less of him, would you?”
“No,” Max replied. “I was just curious ‘cuz there’s a killer on the loose…”
Lumis narrowed his eyes at his son questioningly.
“I always kinda felt safer with you than Mom,” Max elaborated. “Because… you’re a cop. And… I feel safer around Vance, too. If the killer ever came after us… I don’t think he’d win. I think you and Vance combined would be way too much for that guy. Especially if Vance has already killed people before.”
Lumis gave him a long, thoughtful stare. “Is that why you keep asking if he’s killed people?”
“Yeah,” Max replied with a childlike nonchalance. “I used to be scared of the Cutthroat Killer… but now… I’m not really. Ever since I started staying with you guys instead of Mom… I’m not really scared anymore.”
Lumis gave him a pleased smile, gently patting him on the back. “Good. That’s what we’re going for.”
The boy smirked and turned to Vance, hunching over him and speaking to his motionless face.
“You’re gonna be my uncle from now on,” Max told the sleeping PI. “You’re the new weird uncle in the family. Okay?”
Lumis chuckled. Max cautiously reached down, beginning to pinch Vance’s nose, but his father quickly smacked his hand away. He scolded his son, though he couldn’t quite stifle his own laughter while doing so.
Vance remained lost to his peaceful slumber as the calm celebration carried on around him. Lumis and Max’s voices bled into his thoughts as he slept, dreaming of Shamrock and the music playing from their jukebox, Lumis sitting in the booth with an alarmingly large green beverage, Max dancing on the karaoke stage of the pub, making goofy faces at them and posing dramatically alongside a couple of dancers…
He took in a deep, calm breath, the sweet scent of the night air lulling him into a rare state of peace, blades of grass protruding from the blanket and poking at the back of his ears. People chatted in the distance, and occasionally, the cool air would bring about a brief, warm gust of scents, fatty fried foods, pork rinds, hotdogs, and ribs periodically invading his nostrils whenever someone would walk by with an armful of freshly-purchased food. And, across the park, the fireworks were set up and ready to go. Something about this scene was so relaxing, so very calm, it was almost unnerving. Vance rarely ever felt so at ease.
He stopped bringing Ariella to Boomsday years ago, but interestingly, this serenity reminded him of her, of renting movies and falling asleep on the couch with her, of taking her out to eat on the rare occasions she wanted to leave the house, of trapping her in a bearlike hug whenever she’d cry or a had bad nightmare, of taking her out to the backyard and helping her to practice her jujitsu. Perhaps it was the kind of serenity only family could bring, but he couldn’t know for sure. After all, he remembered nothing of his own. The only family he had now was a cluster of misfits—an adopted daughter, a Scottish stray, a homicide detective, and the detective’s young son. It wasn’t conventional, but Vance knew for certain it was far better than being alone. He never really said it, but he greatly cherished all the people in his life. He firmly believed that actions spoke louder than any word in the dictionary, and he acted on the best interests of everyone he cared about, as well as the rest of this twisted town. That was enough.
This peace—and defending this peace—was what he should focus on, not who his mother was, not where he came from, not whoever he used to be—but the here and now, the present day, with his loved ones as his motive, and a bloodridden serial killer as his target. It didn’t matter if—
BANG—BOOM, BOOM, BOOM.
Someone dove over him. The doorway came apart, the roof crumbling, stone raining down over the two men and the corpses surrounding. He smashed into Vance and they were thrown backward—something bashing into with his head in a wicked collide—Vance’s rifle fell from his grasp—vision exploding into stars and blackness—
BANG—BOOM, BOOM, BOOM.
“ Agh— !”
Vance shot bolt upright and scrambled back—his heart jolting frightfully, shielding himself and bracing for the ruthless impact of the stones—but nothing happened.
No one was hunched over him, and no shrapnel had struck his arm. No stones hit his head, and the blazing Iraq sun was nowhere to be seen up above—only the breezy Gates Mill evening, accompanied by a peaceful crescent moon and the fireworks in the sky.
A hand had shot out, fingers coiling around his tan overcoat. Yes, he was indeed wearing a tan overcoat, not a garment of camouflage strapped with mag-packs and a canteen…
Vance glimpsed down at the hand, then to the side—his eyes landing on Lumis, who sat beside him on the blanket, his hand clasped onto his shoulder.
Lumis was giving him a perturbed look, Max glancing between them in surprise.
Vance took in several rapid breaths, quickly realizing that he was in a park—yes, the park in Gates Mill, in America, people in groups all around, watching the fireworks and snacking on their concessions. He raised his head, clenching his teeth and seeing the colorful sparkling aftermath of the fireworks that had just erupted in the night sky above.
“Hey,” Lumis said in a low voice. “You… all right…?”
Vance gulped painfully as he glared at the sky, his expression hardening as his heart continued to race. He fully absorbed his safe environment, though his mind remained fused with a horrid event far gone, a hot sun above a desert, a series of explosions and a building collapsing overtop of him…
“Hey—hey, Vance,” Max said, snapping him out of his thoughts and patting him on the arm. “We’re watching fireworks. It’s just fireworks. Okay?”
Vance glared down at the boy, his visage warped with anger and conflict.
BANG—BOOM, BOOM, BOOM.
More fireworks exploded in a bombastic display of glorious colors—and Vance jumped so hard, Lumis lost his grip on him.
His heart thrashing—he moved backward and crookedly reached his feet, backing away from the fireworks and spinning on his heel.
He briskly marched away without a word to Lumis or Max, frowning angrily, jerking and twitching with every eruption of fireworks behind him.
Yes—it was that scene, that moment in particular that once plagued his nightly dreams, though he hadn’t thought of it consciously in a very long time. He always found that his nightmares would disappear from his memory as soon as he’d awaken. He’d jolt awake in a sweaty rush of adrenaline, but as soon as he was conscious, the memory of the dream would dissipate in an instant, dispersing like a cloud, leaving behind nothing but a brain fog and an amnesic headache—but not this time.
He clung onto the painful memory, replaying it in his mind over and over. An explosion. Someone diving over him. Shrapnel to the arm. Stone to the head.
“What happened…?” Vance hissed to himself, reaching into the darkest depths of his mind and grasping for any possible explanation, though his head was pulsating terribly now, and the rest of his memories remained lost to him entirely. “What happened …?”
He strode across the pavement in wide steps, distancing himself from the field and the fireworks as quickly as possible.
The parking lot was full of people sitting on their trunks and hoods, watching and camera-phoning the fireworks—but the bathroom building appeared to be fairly empty, and Vance preferred the solitude.
The entrances were in the middle of the building, girl bathrooms on the left, boys’ on the right. The center was like a wide alleyway, open at both ends like a tunnel, with magic-marker graffiti strewn about the peeling walls, a small water fountain to the left and an overflowing trashcan in the corner. The cobwebbed ceiling had only one flickering light, but the explosions of the fireworks were a distant muffle now, and no one else was around.
Vance placed his back against the wall, cradling his head. He wasn’t jumping at the sounds anymore, but he hated that he could still hear them, even slightly.
“Goddamn,” he swore. “God fucking damn …”
He dwelled in his pain, hating his own thoughts and reactions. It was maddening not to be able to remember something that had affected him so drastically—and he truly despised having such a reaction to something as simple as fireworks.
“Fucking… ridiculous ,” Vance snarled through gritted teeth, clasping his head and hunching beside the water fountain. “ Fuck …”
Cutthroat slowly raised his head—hearing the faintest grumble of a voice nearby. He sat at the edge of the woods, hidden in the darkness and seated in the grass on a hillside, watching the entire park from a close distance. His eyes narrowed at the end of the bathroom building’s entrance, spotting a hint of movement inside, where Vance Callaghan was leaning on the water fountain and repeatedly shaking his head.
For seconds that seemed to stretch into hours, Cutthroat merely stared at him from the dark, instantly losing his ambitions.
For the first time in God knows how long—his mind was suddenly completely free of targets, plans, angers, or soon-to-be murders. He merely gazed down the small grassy hill for nearly a full minute, his eyes locked onto Vance and his expression entirely unreadable.
Then, Cutthroat did something he usually never allowed himself to do—he acted purely on his own impulses and curiosity.
He slowly removed the hat from his head, combing his long black hairs back as neatly as possible, slicking them behind his ears in a style he never had before. Without any rimmed hat, without his overcoat, and without his matted black hairs hanging messily as they usually did, he might’ve looked different enough to venture closer without being identified.
So, he slowly stood, inching down the hill and approaching the bathroom building, his gaze transfixed by the PI the whole way.
Vance’s hand was clamped onto the side of the water fountain, his other grasping his skull, and his head hanging low. He blinked several times, shaking his head as his headache bombarded him, his frightful memory slipping away, the images and adrenaline fading into a mental, darkened fog, though the pain still remained as he fought to keep replaying the memory in his mind, struggling to visualize the terrible scene… exploding sounds… a desert…
Cutthroat warily stepped into the tunnel-like space, the dim light slightly illuminating his face, his eyes and his thin, crooked scar shining weakly in the light bulb’s reflective yellow glow.
Vance swallowed and raised his head—meeting Cutthroat’s eyes and falling deathly still.
Cutthroat dared to step closer, examining him rather intensely.
Vance’s headache soon began to evolve into a migraine; he instantly broke eye contact and clasped his head again, forcing down another series of curse words.
Cutthroat placed a hand on the men’s bathroom door, stopping and surveying him closely.
“Don’t… don’t mind me,” Vance told the nearby stranger, swatting loosely at him. “Just have a headache. I’m good…”
“You don’t look good,” Cutthroat remarked, his voice a low, gentle rasp.
As the voice met his ears, Vance clasped his eyes shut and lowered his head even more, his skull feeling as if it might shatter like glass at any given second.
Cutthroat’s expression became troubled, if he was capable of such a thing. He lowered his hand from the bathroom door, turning and facing Vance fully.
“Seriously,” Cutthroat said softly. “You all right…?”
Vance tried to meet his eyes again, then looked away.
“Long story,” he grumbled irritably.
Cutthroat squinted thoughtfully at him. “War vet?”
Vance nodded down at the water fountain.
“Mmm… I thought so,” Cutthroat mumbled. “War vets don’t always do well at Boomsday.”
“Well… that’s not always a big problem for me,” Vance sighed, glaring downward. “I can’t remember… most of the time, I can’t remember any of…”
“Ohhh,” Cutthroat breathed, studying him and suddenly understanding. “Amnesia…”
“Yeah.” Vance fumed at the water fountain as if it had wronged him somehow. “But I hate Boomsday. I can’t remember it, but… that damn noise still just… sets me off…”
“I understand,” Cutthroat murmured profoundly. “Yeah… when it’s engrained in you, it just… never goes away. Heart of a hunter.”
Vance gulped, gnawing his bottom lip and slowly turning his head.
He met Cutthroat’s gaze once more, observing the solemn expression on the man’s face and ignoring the rampant pounding in his skull.
Then, Cutthroat offered him a faint half-smile and a simple wave goodbye, turning and marching off without another word.
Vance stared after the stranger oddly, pondering on his peculiar statement, but he quickly stopped thinking on it, as his head was now throbbing like mad. He groaned out an angry, tired sigh, clasping his head and sinking to the floor beside the water fountain. He remained there for a while, stewing alone in silence and waiting for the pain to pass.
Cutthroat marched back up the hill, swiftly collecting his hat from the ground and jerking his head from side to side, returning his hair to its messy, wild state. He placed the hat back on and vanished into the trees, hoping to distance himself from the area as quickly as possible.
Today was not the day to observe Zane and the other podcasters—not after the risky move he’d just made.
Besides—as he vanished into the night, he was met with a strange realization, one he’d never had during any of his nighttime prowls before.
He resolved that he simply wasn’t in the mood to indulge in the hunt as of now.
While the fireworks went off, and after Vance stormed away, Lumis was forced to grab Max and stop him from chasing after the PI. He told his son to simply wait until the fireworks were over with.
Across the north side of the field, Tammy and Jaxson were play-fighting, Ariella and Arkus snickering as they watched. Their horseplay quickly evolved into a full-on wrestling match, and before anyone knew it, Jaxson was sprawled on his back, Tammy mounted on top of him and pinning his wrists to the ground.
Ariella and Arkus traded grins.
Tammy and Jaxson were both laughing and out of breath, their amusement fading, becoming replaced by another feeling. Tammy’s expression then softened, and she leaned downward, tenderly pressing her lips to his.
Jaxson was shocked, but he quickly melted into the moment, his eyes drifting shut and his arms wrapping around her lovingly as fireworks erupted beautifully up above. Their kiss grew into a hungrier one, their friends both watching them in sheer astonishment.
“Holy crap,” Ariella laughed breathlessly. “They’re acting like we’re not even here.”
Arkus stared at their gnawing kissing for a few seconds before replying. “I honestly think they’ve completely forgotten that we’re here.”
Jaxson rolled Tammy over to the side, hovering overtop of her and attacking her with another mauling kiss, both of them bumping into Ariella’s side as they lost themselves in each other.
“Oh wow, okay…” Ariella quickly scooted away, she and Arkus reaching their feet.
The two of them wandered off, hoping to give their friends some privacy. They walked away, repeatedly glancing back at their friends and smiling as they did.
“Blimey… y’know, I always rooted for that, but I never thought it would happen ,” Arkus said. “That’s nice, though. That’s fuckin’ adorable…”
“Yeah… but they chose a weird time,” Ariella laughed. “Right in public, surrounded by half the town… and they just start mauling each other…”
Arkus chuckled and nodded, the two of them walking across the pavement between the field and the bathroom building, glimpsing around and wondering where to go.
Ariella quickly took the lead, marching up the grassy hill that overlooked the park. She and Arkus sat beneath one of the largest trees along the end of the woods, fairly hidden from sight as the branches hung low above them. They sat in silence for a moment, watching over the field and the fireworks, basking in the serenity of the evening.
Neither of them were sure what to say or do. Eventually, Arkus resorted to pulling out his phone, scrolling over notifications and keeping his attention at bay. Then, he made a strange face, turning to Ariella.
“Did you know Zane has his own YouTube channel now?” Arkus asked.
Ariella stared at him. “No…”
“Lookit this.” Arkus held up his phone, displaying the comments section of their latest podcast episode. “Everybody’s saying that Zane’s posting weird videos from his frat house now.”
“He’s bandwagoning,” Ariella figured. “He got some level of fame after the podcast, and now he’s riding on that. He likes attention…”
Arkus nodded down at his phone, feeling curious. He surfed the comments until he found a link to Zane’s new channel. After he clicked it, he reared back from his phone’s screen, facing Ariella again and looking disturbed.
“Jesus bloody Christ,” Arkus griped, holding up his phone a second time. “Lookit his channel. Check out the banner.”
Ariella squinted at the phone, seeing that the long, rectangular image above Zane’s channel was a dark and mysterious picture, a party scene with neon lights in the background. The figure in the center of the picture was a sinister individual with a hooded robe on, a narrow skull-shaped mask covering his face. The figure was holding up a large bloody butcher knife.
“Is that Zane?” Ariella asked.
“Probably,” Arkus determined. “He’s wearin’ a Jack Skellington suit under his cloak thingy. Fuck, he’s an edgy little…”
“Is that real? ” Ariella uttered, pointing at the bloody knife in his hands. “Is that real blood, or did he just dip it in food dye or something?”
“I dunno. Oh my fuck,” Arkus scoffed out a laugh. “His username is Jack Skullington .”
“Ha!” Ariella beamed. “That’s awful! ”
“That is… amazingly awful,” Arkus snickered and nodded in agreement. “The cringe is strong with this one. Hold on, I wanna see what his channel is about…”
He clicked on the most recent video uploaded to Zane’s channel, Ariella scooting closer to him. Arkus turned his phone sideways, and they both watched the video, the phone’s screen illuminating their faces in the darkness of night.
The video depicted the hooded figure with the skull mask sitting alone in a dark room. The figure and his chair were the only visible things in the room, aside from a dim red lighting emitting from somewhere to the left.
“Hello, folks—Jack here again,” the figure spoke, and Ariella traded eyes with Arkus, both of them recognizing Zane’s voice instantly. “Here once more with a long list of controversial thoughts I wanna get off my chest. You listening? Good. Here we go.”
Zane twirled his butcher’s knife around his fingers, stabbing it into the floor beside him before narrating on.
“I know I’ve been vague about everything ever since I started this channel, but there are certain things I can’t openly talk about, as my brotherhood has a strict code of secrecy we abide by here. But, I do appreciate all of you who chose to follow and support me after I left the Gate Keepers, and I understand you guys want more juicy details, especially since my videos are all vlogs, and… well, that’s kinda the whole point of vlogging. I haven’t been ignoring your comments. I see all your questions, and believe me, I want to answer them… but I have to be careful about how I do.”
Ariella and Arkus exchanged another grave, thoughtful glance, returning their attention to the video as Zane spoke further.
“Those of you saying that I’m just riding the serial killer bandwagon… I have this to say. You’re not entirely wrong,” Zane admitted. “I gotta admit, I like the whole trope. I like the style, and the grungy gothic stuff, and the whole slasher genre… but I’m not a serial killer. I just had some ideological differences with the other Gate Keepers… and I couldn’t keep them to myself anymore. You guys might think I’m crazy, and you might think I’m some psycho who’s busting at the seams now… but this is my channel, and most of you are loyal followers. I’m not talking to the handful of haters here. I’m talking to the people who’re supporting me… and I want you to understand why I’m doing what I’m doing. Listen closely.”
“Ideological differences?” Arkus grumped, scrunching up his face. “Riiight… we don’t like you holding our friends at knifepoint, so we’re suddenly just unacceptable to you…”
“I am a sympathizer,” Zane stated in the video. “I fully admit that. I am a Cutthroat sympathizer. I totally understand the idea of wanting to kill people who deserve it. There are a lot of fucked-up people in the world… and, I’m sorry, but I’m never gonna be one of those people who thinks murder is always wrong. Some people, like child molesters, rapists, abusers and so on… I truly believe that the world is a much better place without them. Now, I wanna make a full disclosure here; I am not willing to do everything that Cutthroat does. I’m just saying that I understand why he’s doing what he’s doing.”
“So do I,” Ariella grumbled at the phone. “But that doesn’t make it all okay.”
“Hold on.” Arkus paused the video, meeting Ariella’s eyes and wearing a bizarre expression. “He’s full of it. He’s completely fuckin’ full of it. He is not a Cutthroat sympathizer.”
“How do you know?” she wondered.
“Because he stuck a knife to Jax’s neck ,” Arkus groused. “Jax didn’t do anything to deserve that. Zane was just throwing a fit because he was pissed off at him. He’s using this whole sympathizer thing to try and justify his fuckin’ tantrums. That’s all this is.”
“Well, yeah… that makes sense,” Ariella mumbled grimly. “Definitely sounds like something he would do, just to keep some kind of audience backing him through all his crazy BS.”
Arkus huffed out an irritated breath and continued playing the video.
“During one of my psychology lessons, I learned something,” Zane ranted. “We see it all throughout society, both in ours and in other countries. For some reason—maybe genetics, maybe psychology, maybe environments, maybe something far beyond that, like fate—or maybe even all of the above—people who suffer from abuse always end up becoming abusive. People who suffer from rape are more likely to pass that curse on to their kids. People who see or get involved with murder always end up getting involved with it again. For some reason, if something really bad and terrible happens to you in your life, it just sticks to your lineage like glue and it carries on throughout all your family’s generations. Some people are destined to live normal lives, where they barely ever see anything horrible. Other people, for some unknown reasons, are just destined to live in the horror. They live in the fire. They experience it directly, they experience it routinely, and it just becomes normality for them. That’s the Cutthroat Killer. And that might be me, too.”
Ariella fell deathly silent, thinking of her trauma as a child and the recent horrors she’d witnessed in her adult life. Zane was a selfish lunatic, and she wanted nothing to do with him anymore—but she had to admit, he might have been making at least one interesting point in this video, one she could almost agree with.
“Some people are born to live in the fire,” Zane said ominously. “And I think I’ve always been one of those people. I just never knew what to do with it… and I still don’t. But… I’m figuring that out now. That’s why I broke off from the Gate Keepers, and that’s why I started my own channel. I’m just like everybody else, in a way… just trying to figure out who I am. So… there’s your answer, folks. That’s all I’ve got for you today. Seeya next time. Jack out.”
Zane gave a salute to the camera, and the video ended.
Arkus lowered his phone, sharing a dark stare with Ariella.
“Can you believe that?” he said. “What a fuckin’ loon…”
Ariella nodded quietly, her mind now working up a storm. “Well… he’s not totally wrong.”
Arkus narrowed his eyes questioningly at her.
“I mean… he’s a manipulative liar, and I can’t stand him anymore,” Ariella said honestly. “But the thing he said about certain people being predisposed to frantic lifestyles… that’s not… actually wrong. That’s a real thing.”
“Aye… I know that,” Arkus replied. “But he’s unstable as hell. I dunno what he’s gonna do with his little ‘I’m destined for great things’ belief, but whatever it is, it’s probably nothin’ good. That’s the part I don’t like.”
“Yeah, me either,” Ariella agreed.
They both fell silent for a few minutes, gazing over the park in the distance and realizing that the fireworks had stopped. Some groups in the field were packing up their belongings to leave, others staying behind to talk and joke around with one another for a while longer.
“Y’think Jax and Tammy are done with their little romp-around yet?” Arkus smirked.
“I doubt it,” Ariella chuckled. “They probably took advantage of us leaving. We might get traumatized if we go back now.”
“M’kay… well, I’m gonna go to the bathroom and grab some more food,” Arkus said, reaching his feet. “Y’want anything?”
“Yeah… grab me a drink, please.”
“Aye. Be right back.” Arkus gave her a two-fingered salute and marched down the hill, Ariella watching him until he disappeared from her sight.
In the moments after Arkus’s departure, she found herself mulling over various thoughts—her prayer with Julian, the pastor’s confession, and now, the disturbing content that Zane had been uploading to the internet.
In all honesty, it didn’t surprise her that Zane managed to cling onto a following, as he had a certain charm to his demeanor that naturally allured people. Still, his behavior while he was alone with his friends was a stark contrast to his calm and collected disposition in his videos, and Ariella couldn’t shake the feeling that he was simply a predator attempting to glaze over his true feelings with a glossy layer of emotional manipulation.
Eliza appeared in her mind, making her gulp and repress a shudder. Her old fake mother was once an expert at that same manipulation—plastering on a fake smile and a motherly demeanor, then shattering it all away whenever she had an angry manic episode.
It seemed Zane was similar, expressing his insanity only when he chose, other times hiding behind a false personality of charm and kindness.
Ariella gnawed her lip, feeling disgusted at the thought of them…
But as her mind indulged the troubling information—her thoughts quickly vanished when she spotted the blond predator marching up the hill directly toward her.