Virginia Creepers – Part 2 (Prequel)

Click here to read Part 1!

10 Years Earlier (2015)

Lennox sat leaning against the trunk of his favorite tree. The sun floated down through the treetops creating checkerboard shadows across the forest floor. It was warm and he was tired of running. That’s all they did all day- run around in this heat searching for things he was not interested in finding. There were other ways to eat. He had tried to tell his parents a million times but they never cared to listen. This was the way. This was what they were supposed to do. 

Bullshit. 

The wind blew his dark, wavy hair into his eyes, blocking out the world for a moment. He swept his hand over his forehead, pushing his overgrown mane out of his face. He felt trapped. He had ever since he could remember. Born into a family that he didn’t belong in. Missing out on a normal life. Stuck in these godforsaken woods witnessing things no human should ever have to witness. Everyday spent trying to survive- both the elements and his insane, mess of a family. Sometimes it was all too much. Especially today. He tried to blink away the images swirling in his brain that later tonight and tomorrow would surely bring. 

He wasn’t well-versed in the average human life. But, he had always wondered what it would be like to live amongst them. He seemed to be the only one in the entire Family that cared about townspeople traditions, their comings and goings, the “why” behind what they did. Since he was old enough to wander off from the Family on his own, he’d been studying them. He collected their treasures whenever he could. Sneaking in tents, pocketing phones, books, notebooks, pens…anything he could get his hands on for his personal studies. Each item unlocked more questions about the life he was missing. 

“Lenny!” his twin sister’s voice rang through the forest like a song. 

He leaned his head back on the trunk of the tree and rolled his eyes. 

Caught already. 

“Over here, Wren,” he said back, barely raising his voice enough for her to hear him. She trotted over. Her auburn hair trailed behind her like a long curtain. She stepped in front of him, looming, blocking his sunlight. His sister was tragically beautiful. Her features were sharp-  high cheekbones, a pointed nose, a keen, pronounced cupid’s bow where the top of her pink lips met. Her skin always reminded him of porcelain. Somehow untainted by the harsh sun that beat down on them all day. Except for the leathery, puckered patch that trailed underneath the corner of her left eye, down her cheek, pooling on her neck underneath her ear. It was the color of port wine, always looking inflamed as if she’d had hot water thrown over her. She was marked, just like the rest of his family had been for their supposed and unspeakable sins. Well, everyone except him. 

Her blue eyes narrowed, “You know Ma doesn’t like you wandering away. Especially in the middle of a hunt. She’s not happy, Lenny…today of all days…what are you doing?”

He grabbed her wrist, yanking her to the ground next to him. She fell in an unceremonious heap at his side. 

“Lenny!,” she cried out, exasperated. 

“Look what I found today,” he said smiling, ignoring her obvious frustration. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, heart shaped locket. She stared at the golden treasure sitting in his palm. “Lenny,” she said disapprovingly, her voice low. He ignored her. 

“And look,” he pried the locket apart, splitting open the tiny heart. Inside sat a tiny portrait of a family. A Ma, a Pa, and two young children- a boy and a girl. The photo was old and grainy. The family stood in front of the camera with smiles plastered on their faces revealing their bright teeth. The parents stood behind their children, each with a hand on one of the children’s shoulders like proud statues frozen in time. He looked up at his sister who was gazing intently at the photograph. She reached out, petting the side of the locket as if it were a mouse and then quickly pulled her hand back as if it had seared her skin. 

“Where did you find that? Is this what you’ve been doing while everyone else was off finding our feast for the ceremony?” she scoffed. 

He rolled his eyes again. “Wrenlee, please.” 

She stood up in a huff. “Ma wants you back, Lennox. Don’t let her catch you with that. We are celebrating our 15th year tomorrow. It would be nice for it to at least be drama free.”

And with that she stormed off- back to the Camp he assumed. He sat there a few moments longer, relishing the silence, his fingers toying with the smooth locket in his hands. Wren was his best friend…well, only friend in this cruel world. She understood him. He knew that. That was the perk of sharing a womb with someone- an instant intimate connection for the rest of your lives. But, he also knew Wren envied him. She was marked and he was not. His obsession with other humans was also dangerous. For him and for Wren. If his family ever knew the extent of it…he honestly was not sure what they would do. Which was why, as much as he knew some part of her was fascinated, Wren would have none of this “craziness” as she had told him time and time again. 

After carefully hiding the locket, he slowly began the march back to Camp. The afternoon sun was hot. Especially in the middle of July. It beat down on him mercilessly causing perspiration to rise to the surface of his skin, like the inside of him was a pot boiling over. He trudged into the Camp. It had laid here for over a century, hidden in the thickest part of the forest, too far out to be stumbled upon by anyone but their own. The small community was a mixture of makeshift tents made from scrap materials and tiny shacks that were built from the trees years before Lennox was born. Some of the structures had seen better days- now lopsided, many leaking and lined with moss and vines. In the center of the Camp was a large fire pit surrounded by rows of shabby wooden benches – it is where the family gathered for meals and celebrations.

“Lenny!” his mother cried in frustration as he shuffled over. “You’ve once again abandoned your family in the middle of a hunt! A hunt that centers around YOUR celebratory day tomorrow!” 

Lennox stared at her, his ocean eyes narrowed. His mother was not beautiful. Not in any sense of the word. It had always baffled him that she had produced him and his sister. The skin on her face was ragged and leathery. The left half of her face was puckered, skin looking like swirls of tiny rivers flowing from where her thin, gray hair met her forehead, through her eye, down her cheek and neck. Her left eye was ghostly, as if the color had been sucked out and drained. A small portion of the top of her right lip was missing so her yellowed, jagged front teeth were always on display. 

“I was participating and then I…got distracted,” he mumbled, kicking the ground with his foot not bothering to come up with a better excuse. 

Her eyes bore through him, one dark, one an icy grey. “You will be participating tomorrow. Whether you like it or not. It is your 15th year. You will not disappoint me…or your sister,” her voice pierced the air like a knife. 

She did not wait for him to respond. Turning on her heel she marched into their small shack and slammed the rickety door. He stared at the ground. Always a disappointment to everyone here. Not a soul who cared about him other than his twin. He let out a long swoosh of air from his lungs, shoulders deflating with them. His sister’s fingers interlaced with his. He felt her squeeze his hand two times. 

You’re okay. I’m here. 

She smiled at him. “Come on, Len, let’s go for a walk before we’re required back here.”

He stared at her for a moment. Grateful that she always seemed to be there to save him. Even when she didn’t agree with what it was he was doing or how he was feeling. He let her drag him from the Camp. They fell into step next to each other, fingers still interlocked. He squeezed her hand back, just once. 

Thank you. 

The Cabin 

After a few miles, the cabin came into view. It was old and decrepit like the rest of the forest. It had stood here for almost as long as the Family’s camp. And it was absolutely forbidden. Lennox had heard the stories told over and over again. A century ago when the first members of the Family had originally fled the townspeople and settled here in the Blue Ridge Mountains they were followed. Most of the town was just happy to see them go. Not many had interest in being close to monsters. But, there was a small group that wanted them to pay for what they’d done. They’d followed the Family out here, building this cabin just a few miles from the Camp. They settled here to watch, to stalk, to take out as many members of the Family as possible. To punish them for their sins. Horrors had taken place in this cabin. Their Family members mutilated, tortured, captive for years, at the mercy of the men who had taken it upon themselves to play God. 

These men had long been conquered and killed by the Family. No townspeople ever daring to venture back out into this forest of horrific, sin-filled monsters. The only memory left was the Cabin and its blood soaked walls. They weren’t to step foot in a 2 mile radius of this cabin. It was an absolute sin in the eyes of the Family. Lennox’s mother would be horrified to know he and his sister had frequented the tiny property since the time they were older enough to venture out on their own. It had become their “spot.” A dilapidated oasis when the Family and their ways became too overwhelming. Lennox had stumbled across it first seven years ago. Initially, he had planned to keep it his secret and his secret only. A spot to hide his treasures. One place no one would ever look. Then, one day he was lying on the floor of what was once the living room counting the ceiling beams and listening to the dripping of water leaking from the roof when it dawned on him that his sister might like the place. She knew all of his secrets anyways- what was one more. 

 ☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

At first, 8 year old Wren had been terrified at the idea of stepping on forbidden land. Land that held so many corpses and was marinated in the blood of their own family. But she allowed Lennox to convince her. He took her hand, showed her around the cabin. The walls were paneled and falling apart in some areas. Magnificent beams held up the ceiling- now mossy and decaying. The windows were boarded up, immersing the cabin in darkness even when the sun shined brilliantly through the trees. It smelled like dampness, a mildewy smell mixed with an almost earthy scent. She found the place oddly comforting. She gazed at Lennox seeing his beaming smile as he showed her around. She squeezed his hand once. 

“It’s creepy but kind of pretty,” she breathed. 

His eyes lit up. “There’s more, come on!” He dragged her across the kitchen to another door. He excitedly flung it open. She held back. Dampened stairs led down to darkness. He squeezed her hand twice and pulled a flashlight from his pocket. “Come on, don’t be a baby,” he teased. 

“You’re not supposed to have that,” she said flatly, pointing to the weathered light in his hands. 

“How else am I to explore in the dark?” His voice was light. He stepped down onto the first stair. “Come on, Wren! It’s cool, I promise,” he exhaled, a slight tone of frustration in his voice. Always having to waste time convincing her. She followed him slowly into the blackness below. He led her down, stair by stair. The walls on either side of them were made of old stone, suffocated by moss. The smell of the earth was stronger down here. It took over their noses as if dirt had been shoved up their nostrils. The tiny flashlight only shined a few inches in front of them. Everything else was black. 

Wrenlee paused, pulling at Lennox’s arm, “I don’t like it down here.” 

He gave her a little tug, “Almost there, come on.”

Across the dirt covered basement they reached another small door. Lennox pulled on it a few times. The door refused to budge. Wren stood next to him wringing her hands together, staring around into the quiet darkness. 

“It’ll open! I’ve done this a million times,” he said breathily. He heaved his tiny body back one more time and the door groaned open. He shined the flashlight into the tiny opening. A long, narrow tunnel made of stone covered in spiderwebs and dark green moss laid before them. Small puddles of water lined the bottom from years of rain sneaking its way through the decaying cracks. 

Lennox crouched down making his way into the tunnel, Wren following closely behind him. Her hands immediately slimy from the mud that caked the lining of the passageway. After a few feet, Lenny stopped suddenly, causing Wren to almost smash head first into him. 

He turned to her, “Back up a little.” She followed his instructions and heard some shuffling followed by a soft creaking. It was hard to tell what he was doing, her eyes would not adjust to this tunnel of darkness. 

“Okay, let’s go,” Lennox breathed heavily. She couldn’t see him but could hear the smile on his lips. She took a deep breath and followed him through the second doorway. It led to a small room, just tall enough for a grown up to stand up in. Lennox moved his flashlight around the room showcasing thick, green, leafy vines that clung to the walls and ceiling. 

“Woah,” Wren exclaimed, stepping towards the wall to her right. She reached her hand out, slowly caressing the fragile feeling leaves in her fingers. She let a few of the leaves lay on her palm for a moment. They were hard to see in the dim light. She felt them gently glide up her palm, interlacing with her fingers. She jumped back, ripping her hand away. 

Lennox stood behind her, studying her closely. “Try not to touch them. You’ll get itchy.” 

 ☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

Lennox allowed Wren to lead him into the cabin. He followed her to the living area where he had recently laid out a tarp, some blankets and a few pillows he had found left behind by a hiker. She plopped down on one of the pillows crossing her legs into a pretzel. She tapped the pillow next to her. He moped over, carefully dropping onto the makeshift seat. They sat together in silence for a while. His mind slowly relaxed by the familiar dripping sounds of the cabin and his sister’s steady breathing. 

Finally Wren spoke softly, “I know you don’t want to participate tomorrow, Lenny.” She paused for a moment. He could feel her staring at the side of his face. He didn’t want to see her eyes right now. “You know that if I had a choice, I would not either. But, we don’t have a choice. Sometimes, I think you forget how dangerous it is to think that we do.” 

He stared ahead of him at the boarded up window envisioning the trees swaying tentatively in the breeze behind it. They’d had this conversation before. Or variations of it at least. Always leaving him feeling frustrated with his sister. And leaving Wren with a little more resentment than she had before- for Lenny it wouldn’t be implausible to somehow make it out. To reintegrate into the society that he so badly wanted to be a part of. But for her, the crumpled, inflamed looking skin on her face forever tied her to the Family. A scarred heritage etched brilliantly on her skin like a bad piece of art. She was branded like livestock. Marked by her family’s supposed transgressions. 

“Lenny,” she said, sterner this time. “Please look at me.”

He raised his face to hers. Her eyes bore into him, the dim light of the cabin making them look more of a dark, grey than blue. He ran a finger across her cheek tracing the slopes and valleys of the rough skin. She placed one of her hands gingerly over his.  He took a deep breath. 

“Wren, you know I would not leave you alone tomorrow. I will be there,” he pulled his hand away from her face, looking down, anxiously pulling at his own fingers. “But for the record, I think it is much more dangerous to think you are stuck. We make choices every day, Wren. Each one, filled with pros and cons, sometimes ending in celebration, sometimes consequences. But I promise you my sister, we absolutely always have a choice.”

She let out a small breath. Lennox looked back up at her. He could not tell if it was a sigh of frustration or sadness. She blinked a few times and quickly turned away from him. They sat quietly for a moment. He could feel his stomach starting to turn, anxiety spreading like a swarm of red ants through his body at the thought of going back to the Camp. He placed his head in his hands, pulling at his hair. He could feel Wren now studying him. She stood up abruptly. 

“It’s getting dark, we need to get back,” she whispered. 

Lennox hauled himself up from the floor and absent-mindedly followed Wren back home where he knew the Family would already be gathering around the fire. Each step was forced, like his brain had switched into manual and he had to focus on every muscle or they would not budge. 

Why hadn’t he gotten them out before their 15th year? How could he have let the years pass by so quickly without making a run for it? How could this be happening? They were supposed to have made it out by now. 

Disappointment and guilt gnawed at his chest, boring in like tiny parasites. Thoughts swirled in his head as if someone had peeled back his scalp, cracked open his skull and mixed his brain around with a spoon. His stomach bubbled. He hummed quietly to keep himself from gagging. 

At the edge of the Camp, Wren paused. The Family gathered around the large, raging fire. The benches had started to fill in quickly with their ragged bodies. The excited chatter could be heard from here. Towards the back of the group he could make out a figure pacing back and forth- his mother he was sure of it. Riddled with anxiety that the twins had up and left for good…like he had always threatened. Wren took his hand. Their moist palms pressed together, fingers interlocked. She squeezed his hand two times before stepping out from the tree line and onto the Family property. 

The Preliminary Ritual

Their mother immediately spotted them from the treeline. Her tiny figure rushed over to them, her dirty skirt flowing in the wind behind her reminding Lennox of the old witches he’d seen in a book he’d stolen. 

“Where have you been?” she hissed through clenched teeth. “Everyone is here. We are waiting on you two! To arrive to your ceremony. Your father….” She ran her hand down her crooked face in frustration. Wren stepped forward, taking our mother’s hand in hers. 

“I’m sorry, Ma,” Wren spoke quietly, timidly. “We got chatting and walked too far out. We were rushing to make it back.” She turned to look at Lenny, ushering him forward with the strain of her eyes. He fell in line next to her. Close enough to his mother that he could smell the sharp stench of anxiety coming off her. Wren grabbed his hand, placing it over her own which was still draped over their Ma’s. “We are both excited and honored, Ma,” Wren exhaled, opening her eyes wide like a child as she looked up at their mother. Their mother’s jaw softened a little as she gazed back at Wren. 

“Let’s go, they’re bringing it out in a moment,” she stated bluntly as she ripped her hand away from theirs and stomped off towards the gathering by the fire. Wren immediately started after her. Lennox paused for a moment, looking back at the treeline from which they’d come from. 

“Lenny!” Wren called out, whipping around once she’d notice he was not in step with her. She waved her hand furiously at him motioning for him to hurry the hell along. He trudged over to her trying to focus on his breathing, in the nose for 5, hold for 3, out the mouth for 7. He followed his mother and Wren to their place in the front row of benches closest to the fire. He sat, his leg bouncing up and down a few times before Wren placed her hand on his knee to steady it. She squeezed twice. He ignored her, staring into the dancing flames in front of him. Admiring the careful mosaic of oranges and reds, yielding into blues and purples reminding him of a sunrise. 

One of the Elders stood in front of the group. Wrinkled skin hung on his face. He was missing a large portion of his top lip looking almost as if someone had chewed it clean off.  Most of his teeth were missing, only two, browned fangs remained poking through his reddened gums. White tufts of hair clung to his scalp like the puffballs of a dandelion. His voice boomed over the small crowd, “Family, we come together this evening to begin the celebration of a momentous milestone for two of our fellow members,” he gestured to Wren and Lennox. Wren popped up from her seat, standing at attention. Lennox rose slowly after her, eyes glued to the ground. 

“Wrenlee and Lennox Gaudet have reached their 15th year. Our twins. Our very beautiful twins..” his voice trailed off as he studied them before continuing, “we have been blessed today for this traditional preliminary ritual. Nature has come through gracing us with both a meal for tonight and a sacrifice for the celebration tomorrow.” He clasped his hands together. The clap jumped Lennox, his neck snapping upwards to stare at the Elder. “Please allow the preliminary ritual to commence. Bring out the blessing yielded from the hunt today!” He gestured with both hands down the aisle that sat between the two columns of benches. 

Lennox and Wren turned, allowing their gaze to follow the direction of the Elder’s outstretched arms. A woman appeared where the last row of benches began. Two Family members stood on either side grasping her tightly by the upper part of her arms. Her hands were bound behind her back, gag tied tightly around her mouth. Her body was dirty and bruised. Blood painted her skin here and there. It was difficult to tell if it was her own or somebody else’s. One of her eyes was completely swollen shut- looking as if it had been replaced with a purple golf ball shoved in the socket. Her hair hung at shoulder length, dark and matted. Her one good eye desperately dashed around taking in the scene in front of her. She moaned and struggled as brutes on either side of her forced her down the aisle towards the fire where the Elder was standing, lips curled into an elongated smile. 

Lennox took a shaky breath inward as the woman was shoved past him. He was close enough to reach out and touch her. The large men holding her turned her so that she was now facing the curious audience, standing next to the Elder. He reached out and put a wrinkled hand on her shoulder. She jumped back at his touch, trying desperately to speak through the gag in her mouth. The men grunted and shook her, a warning to shut up and stay still. She couldn’t have been more than a few years older than the twins. Tears streaked her reddened cheeks. Her shoulders sagged in defeat. 

“Lennox! Wrenlee! Please join us up here,” the Elder exclaimed as spit flew from his mouth. 

Wren led the way up to the front, standing beside the Elder on the other side of the bound woman. Lennox stepped in line beside her. His body shook slightly. He continued to keep his eyes focused on the dirt beneath his feet, unable to make eye contact with the hungry crowd. Lennox’s leg started to flutter again. Wren gently punched his thigh reminding him to stay still. He clenched his fists together feeling his fingernails embed into his palms. The Elder led Wren over to the woman, placing a small knife in her hand. Wren paused in front of the woman, gripping the knife so tightly that her knuckles turned white. The woman stared at Wren, her good eye bugging creating a wild expression. Like a rabbit caught in a trap. 

“Wrenlee will mark her first,” the Elder’s deep voice. The crowd cheered loudly. The woman shook her head back and forth begging, no. Wren took another step forward, knife raised in her hand. Her hair cascaded down her back, almost touching her bottom. Her dress was white, withered and worn, fragments of stringy fabric clung to frayed edges. Lennox watched his sister place the knife on the woman’s upper arm, pushing down, immediately igniting a muffled scream. Wren’s hand shook. Blood trickled from the slice, dripping down the woman’s arm. The men held her tightly in place. She writhed as Wren continued to draw the knife over her soft skin. A small W began to form, followed by a ragged, G. Blood pooled from the letters. Wren looked away as soon as she was finished, her eyes now fixed on Lennox. She walked over to him slowly, placing the knife in his outstretched palm. Her fingers brushed his slightly making him want to grab for her hand and squeeze. She walked by him, eyes fixed downward, hellbent on not meeting his gaze. 

He wrapped his fingers around the knife in his palm, feeling the grooves of the engraved handle. The knife had participated in decades of ceremonies supposedly passed down by the original members of the Family. His hand shook slightly as his heart pushed adrenaline through his veins. He looked up at the crowd in front of them. Most of them sat on the edge of their seats, whooping and hollering. Mouths slightly ajar, drool pooling in corners of lips. His gaze fell on his mother’s face. Her brows were curled into a scowl, jaw tight. A silent warning. He quickly averted his gaze from her gnarled face. He stood in front of the woman. Sweat poured from her forehead, mixing with the tiny rivers of tears flowing over her eyelids. He could feel his own perspiration wading to the surface of his skin threatening to ooze from his pores. He stared at her for a moment, trying to catch her eye. Her gaze locked into his. He raised his eyebrows slightly trying to signal to her this was not something he wanted to do. Her golden eye was wide, studying him. Her body tense, prepped for pain. He positioned himself on the side opposite of Wren’s still oozing tattoo. 

He raised the knife, pressing it gently to the skin on her other arm. He felt her body tense, watched the muscles in her jaw tighten as she clenched her teeth in preparation of the burn as her skin was slowly sliced open. He drew his initials on her skin as quickly as he could ensuring they were as small as he could physically make them. His stomach knotted as he watched the crimson, liquid trail down her arm dripping from her fingertips creating tiny droplets on the ground. The crowd whooped and hooted behind him, their noises growing as the blood poured. Once he finished the “G” he walked away quickly, staring down at his feet, shoving the small knife into the Elder’s hand as he passed. Beads of sweat tickled their way down his back. His hands shook ferociously. He clenched his fits trying to calm them. Back next to Wren he could hear her heavy breathing, sounding as if she had just run a marathon. He took a step closer to her side gently allowing the back of their hands to touch. 

In front of them, the Elder swirled the knife in his wrinkled hands, “Wonderful!” he walked towards the woman, now bleeding from both arms. “We’ll see you back here tomorrow.” His eyes fell to the men still standing behind her. “Take her away.” he stated, turning away with a brush of his hand. The men pushed the woman back down the aisle. She didn’t fight this time. Her head slumped down as she allowed them to take her. 

“Lennox, Wrenlee, the Elder said, turning back to them, “You may be seated for the feast.”

Lennox sat down on the bench next to his sister. He could feel her trembling slightly. He kept his head down staring at his hands as he wrung them together. Wren pushed her knee slightly into his. He allowed his mind to wander during the remainder of the Elder’s speech. He wanted to jump off the bench and sprint for the Cabin. The need to be in a safe space, away from the Family, away from the torture and blood was overwhelming. His heart punched at his sternum. His stomach was still turning over and over as if someone were inside him jostling his organs. The sudden smell of meat made him clasp his hand over his mouth, his throat threatening to heave. Wren knocked her knee against his. His mother turned towards him, her eyes piercing him. The thought of eating this meat after what he had just done, knowing what he would have to do tomorrow. It made him want to run. His stomach continued to churn, waves of nausea swelling in his abdomen. His hands shook, anxiety taking over his body. 

No choice…

He thought back to what Wren had said at the cabin and how he had responded. No, he had a choice. But choosing anything except to stay put and eat would wind up harmful to not only himself but, Wren too. And his mother…whom he cared much less about but still, it wouldn’t be fair. He did have one though…and he had chosen to stay. For Wren. For their wellbeing. Well, their overall well being…as in being alive. Ending up dead served neither of them. He had no doubts this environment was absolutely terrible for them but he’d have to save the running for another time. 

He allowed his mind to travel away. His brain drowned out the rest of the ceremony, protecting him from the anxiety and emotions that brewed inside. He vaguely remembered food being passed to him- two hunks of reddish meat on a slab of wood. Eating was autopilot- shoving the food into his mouth as quickly as possible with his hands. Trying not to overthink it or his stomach would force it back up. A few times throughout the meal, the Elder would boom something or other over the crowd regarding tomorrow’s ceremony igniting excited chitter chatter from the Family. Always excited for festivities. Especially those involving blood. Other than that only the nauseating sounds of chewing and swallowing could be heard. The rest was a blur for Lennox. Next thing he knew, he was laying on the old, queen sized mattress next to his sister on the floor of their tiny bedroom. He couldn’t recall them walking back to the shack. His brain must’ve taken over, protecting him from the urge to flee as fast as he could. 

She lay still next to him, breathing softly. He studied the dark ceiling, trying to ignore the anxiety that had set up shop in his chest. He felt Wren’s fingers wriggle into his, squeezing his hand tightly. She took a shuddery breath. He knew anxiety had crept its way into her as well. 

“I wish tomorrow wouldn’t come,” she whispered. “I wish the night could last forever. I wish we could go, like you said and that we didn’t have to….” her voice trailed off. 

He let out a breath he’d been absentmindedly holding. “Me too, Wren,” he replied softly. 

She paused for a moment. “We don’t have a choice, do we?” He felt her turn in bed towards him. He waited a moment before he responded, trying to gather the right words in his swirling head. 

“We do,” he responded, voice low. “But, right now only one option makes sense. You weren’t wrong earlier, Wren. It would be dangerous. We’re not prepared,” he ran his hand through his hair in frustration, “Had we planned…” he stopped abruptly, closing his mouth. He didn’t intend to make his sister feel bad for being scared. Not with the horrors of tomorrow waiting for them. 

“I didn’t know I wanted to,” she squeaked. “I mean I did…I just…”

He breathed out heavily, relaxing the muscles in his face. He gently rubbed his thumb against the back of her hand. Something he had done since they were small whenever she was upset. 

“I know,” he replied gently. “We’ll get through tomorrow, Wren. And then, we’ll figure it out from there. If you want to go, we go.” 

She squeezed his hand tightly once before releasing her grip and turning onto her other side. Lennox lay still, eyes glued to the dark ceiling searching for anything to get him through the next 24 hours. He heard Wren’s breathing start to steady, soft whooshes of air coming from her mouth as her body settled into sleep. Anxiety still sat thick in his stomach. The scene of his knife carving skin, blood oozing through the tiny slits, the sound of muffled cries played in his mind over and over. He couldn’t imagine seeing that woman again. The things tomorrow would bring. The things he would have to do…he snapped his eyes shut willing the thoughts out of his head instead focusing on his breathing. In his nose for 5 seconds, allowing the air to sit filling his lungs for 3 and then allowing it to softly float out of his mouth for another 5. Over and over…allowing the darkness to slowly consume him. 

Part 3: The Ceremony (coming soon)

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