I. Lucy Rumley

Adrian awoke to the deafening sound of a chainsaw flooding his ears. It's accompaniment: The full-bodied wail of a soul being torn open. 

Where am I

Adrian thought fearfully as the blood curdling scream overtook the atmosphere. The visceral pangs of anguish reverberated through the chamber, echoes curling into his skull like a snake slithering through his ears. He tried turning his head but found his neck bound.

Anxiety set in. His eyes were fixed towards the ceiling. He was a blind observer, allowed only to listen to the slaughter.

He struggled to wriggle free, chomping down on the leather gag biting into the corners of his mouth, to no avail. 

A singular thought dominated his mind; was he next?

The victim’s cry rose exponentially, higher and higher until it broke, cracking mid-pitch. His screams of desperation were overpowered by the noise of his tendons being pulled apart. Adrian’s imagination supplied the rest until nothing but the sound of the chainsaw was left.

Somewhere close, a voice began to chant.

“Blood unfastens the door. Flesh pays the toll.”

Another voice responded, approving the nightmare. It was Stan. He clapped slowly, mocking the dead man’s silence.

 “Exquisite, Oz. Simply divine. The gods weep with joy as witnesses to your account. On such days, I feel pride. You've done well once again, my son.”

Adrian panicked upon hearing Stan's voice. His fate seemed sealed as he wrestled to break free, the leather binds chaining him to a metallic frame that creaked with every move. He saw nothing but what his mind painted; blood slicking the floor as death approached unequivocally. 

Oz inched closer, his footsteps confident. He was in no rush and spoke nothing. His breathing was composed, as if such a brutal act of slaughter had barely affected him.

Stan chuckled. 

“Enough blood for one night. My appetite leans in other directions.” 

On cue, a soft rustle of fabric spliced the tension; a concubine, approaching from the shadows. Her anklets chimed faintly, her hips swaying as she made her way towards Stan. 

“Oz." Stan commanded, departing "Do as you will, but make it… memorable.”

Adrian began to weep as he braced for the knife. But the blade did not come. Instead, Stan’s retreating laughter mingling with the concubine’s coos filled the room. 

Adrian fixated on the sound of their steps vanishing into the distance, each stride a nail in his coffin, until they could no longer be heard. This was followed by the sound of a heavy latch locking into place, sealing Adrian and Oz inside.

For a long time, neither moved. The silence was unbearable with Adrian trapped in a horrific anticipation, the sound of his own pulse terrifying him. He counted his heartbeats, rising, every beat palpable as he steadied himself to be slain.

Why?! Why did I come here?!

He lamented. The scrape of boots on stone broke the silence as Oz approached, slow and deliberate. He let each step echo, like a countdown. Adrian, who could only peer at the ceiling, saw Oz's shadow grow larger as he closed the distance between them.

“You think I’ll gut you like the last one.” Oz whispered “And you’re right to fear it.”

He appeared next to Adrian, pressing the point of his blade to Adrian’s neck causing him to stiffen, every atom screaming.

“But I won’t.”

The knife slid away. 

A pause.

Then came Oz’s voice again, lower this time and tight with contempt and grief.

“She chose you”

Adrian blinked, stunned as Oz circled him like a predator.

“She walked into death with open arms, hanging herself from the beams in the stable. They say despair drove her, but it was deeper than that. It was Stan's doing.” 

He spat the name. 

"Her life was a ritual of pain and he was the architect. Her body was broken as easily as her mind. She endured it all, until she could not.”

Adrian’s breathing turned irregular, images of his mistress swaying in the other realm burned into his eyes.

“It seems my mother’s soul found no rest after all” Oz went on, appearing now directly in Adrian's line of sight 

“It clung to a place, the same place you stumbled into. You've shown me the path to achieve the goals I've sought. And the most important piece of this puzzle is you. Don’t you see? It was no accident. She pulled you there with a purpose. She marked you. You are now a part of her vengeance.”

Adrian looked at Oz fearfully, blood smeared all over his face and body. His intentions were unknown but his expression did not signal bloodlust. Adrian's calmness prompted Oz to retrieve an item from his coat; a gemstone, glinting in the darkness.

“This is hers..” Oz murmured, placing the pendant in Adrian's hands. 

The amethyst blazed faintly, it's violet light pulsating as if it were a living entity. Adrian felt it radiate within his grasp, a warmth rising from within. He observed how the shadows bent ever so subtly to its frequency. This was followed by a faint vibration, like the beat of a distant heart.

“You should hear her more clearly now,” Oz revealed. “When she whispers, answer. When she guides, obey. Through this, you and I shall speak and help bring her soul to rest.” 

His eyes flashed

“I cannot follow you. Not yet. I will remain. My battle with Stan is not done. That man’s presence still challenges my sanity. I cannot move on while he continues to draw breath. My mother was innocent, her body taken from her since adolescence. Stan defiled his own child, persistently corruptive, until the day she gave birth to me." 

Oz paused, staring into space , hollow with longing 

"I am his son. My mother, his daughter. We are siblings, and also a parent and child. This twisted bond pushed her between emotional extremes, ruining her in the end. And yet, while her soul continues to suffer, Stan draws breath, living on without shame. I won't allow that for much longer."

With swift hands, Oz severed Adrian’s bonds. He staggered free, legs shaking as he stared at Oz, searching his face for betrayal.

Oz stared back somberly, his eyes unreadable. 

“Go. Quickly! Find the path again. Learn how to return to that realm. Please... help my mother find rest.”

Adrian clutched the pendant as he sat up, shocked at the change in Oz's tone. He wanted to know more, but Oz had already turned away, hiding his expression. He sat down, the blade resting on his lap as he muttered prayers to shadows. 

Adrian stared pensively for a moment before fleeing. He ran through narrow stone passages, each step echoing as corridors widened into grand halls, their ceilings splashed with murals of saints twisted into devils. Soon, claustrophobia gave way to vastness as the passages led him out into an open space. 

Adrian darted through gardens where statues of Rumley ancestors loomed, passing a gallery of doors until finally the outer gates yawned ahead.

He darted through, the night air hitting him like a rebirth. Stumbling into the open grounds, he was showered by the light of the crimson full moon and countless shimmering stars, wheeling overhead. He wheezed, his lungs burning from the sprint.

“Adrian…”

The voice returned, unmistakable. It was Lucy.

He froze, clutching the amethyst.

“You carry me now. My vengeance, I entrust it to you.”

 Her voice was soft, almost motherly.

 “But to walk with me again, blood must be paid. A sacrifice.”

“No,” Adrian muttered. “I won’t.”

“Yes.” The voice caressed. 

“One must die for you to cross. It is the law written in flesh. Choose wisely and be swift, for the window for the door to open is tonight. The blood moon yearns for your offering ”

His knees weakened as the amethyst pendant throbbed against his chest like a second heartbeat. His soul was divided, his mind in chaos as he bolted for the wilderness.

Hours later, Adrian wandered the city streets. He was back in the neighborhood of Lucy's Antiques, his thoughts frayed. 

His eyes darted around, looking for something, anything, until his gaze met with a familiar sight. Slumped against an alley wall was the homeless man. The same man who had received a brutal beating by a young boys father.

The man looked up, eyes hazy as a syringe dangled from his forearm. Spit leaked from his mouth as he lay there seemingly paralysed. 

Adrian’s stomach twisted, a potential victim presenting himself without notice. The drugged up man could barely move a muscle, zombified by whatever substance he had injected into his blood stream. And then, as if on cue, Lucy’s voice pressed against him like a lover’s breath

“He is forgotten. No one will miss him. His life is meaningless in the face of your desire. Through his death, you will return to me. Do it quickly, before the moon steps over the horizon."

Adrian's hands shook as he drew the knife Oz had slipped into his coat. The homeless man tried to rise, confusion in his eyes. 

“Who are you...”

Adrian lunged before he could utter another word. He did not want the sound of his voice to humanize him. 

Steel tore through the man's throat, splicing flesh and bone as a fountain of blood erupted. The man choked, barely lifting his hands as he clawed weakly at Adrian’s arm. His blood spilled hot across Adrian’s chest, seeping through his shirt.

He stood up and watched the homeless man struggle for life, until the body slumped and stopped twitching. He watched expressionless at the lifeless corpse, absolutely still. 

There was Silence. And then, strangely...laughter. 

It was Lucy’s voice, pleased. Her essence curled around him like a dense fog on an early winter's dawn.

Adrian's adrenaline ceased, his body collapsing beside the corpse. He gasped for air whilst staring at his hands, stained crimson and numb. He hadn't eaten anything for an entire day, but hunger was the last thing on his mind.

What have I done..

He thought, passing out from exhaustion. Meanwhile, in the corner of the alley, a security camera blinked its red light. Its lens watched coldly, recording everything.