by N. M. Brown
“Okay.” Huffing, Echo made her way back down stairs, running through her story again: the lies she told, the manipulation. It made her innards tingle in a way Sam could make her body feel. But she kept her face sombre. She had to play the part by acting the mourning sister. She realised in those last few steps she wasn’t dressed appropriately; skinny jeans and a crop top, but the detectives would hardly see that and jump to accomplice so Echo didn’t slow her steps.
In the entrance hall, Mara, Sam, Archer, Twilight, Nic and Bris lined the walls. Gala was the only one missing, but he was away on business in the Italian vineyards and the others would no doubt fill him in on what was happening. As Echo walked through them, their eyes glued to her, she felt cold. She realised as she took in their unique personalities she’d never been alone with them all. If they were ever all together, Adin had always been by her side. Together, they had always stood, side by side, as one…
Looking ahead she saw extra’s to their crowd; two men in large, stuffy overcoats, wool hats clasped in their hands and a pale, pitiful look upon their face.
“Echo. These men are here to see you.” Archer’s voice was grave. It had to be an act because Archer never showed emotion unless it was to do with money. Echo hadn’t stolen anything, not this week at least. “It’s about your brother, Adin.”
“Look, love.” The older of the two police men said, walking over to her. He didn’t bend or kneel which was a change. She was short for seventeen, but she was short enough people guessed her to be younger. She’d kicked the last asshole in the nuts that squatted down and talked to her like she was five and still wearing nappies. At least with the help and guidance from Sam her boobs had appeared, and people were getting less confused. Without realizing it, Echo had ducked her head frowning at her chest, contemplating their size and if she should ask Sam to add a bit more oomph. For the record, about three weeks later she did ask and was much happier. However, the Officer had mistaken her head bow for sadness.
“We know you were close with your brother, but we, well…” The officer stumbled, “Well, we thought that you might want to know that your brother is with God now, getting the help he needed.” Echo didn’t scoff, that would have ruined everything, but it did make her want to smile which only made her lower lip tremble. She was glad that the dumb officers hadn’t been stupid enough to disclose her part in Adin’s capture. Revealing that little tid-bit might not have gone down well with the rest of her family.
“Can I see him?” she asked, digging her nails into her palm to bring tears to her eye.
“See- see him? You brother?” The officer looked shocked, glancing back at his partner.
“Yes. Yes, please I’d like to see him. One last time.” Echo ducked her head again, to hide the smile behind her curtain of dark hair. Manipulation, trickery: how her heart soared.
“Ah-… um- Sure. Sure, we’ll call ahead and get the body-, get your brother ready. We can go now, if that works?” Echo nodded, which started a chain reaction, one officer nodding to the next, who nodded in return. As one, they walked out the front door past her family without backwards glance.
Watching each of them in turn: Bris, Archer, Sam and the others, a growing sense of… uncertainty grew in Echo’s stomach. She’d expected a wink from Twi, or a proud half smile from Mara, by they all look… blank. Blank like little porcelain dolls all sat in a row on a shelf unmoving, unfeeling… heartless.
✽ ✽ ✽
The car journey had been slow to the morgue; the Rippling traffic had been piled high on that spring day, though typically for spring, the sun was blocked by rain clouds and grey fog. It had started to pour when they were about halfway, and it hadn’t let up, only hit heavier. Entering the jittery automatic doors, past that one blinking tube light, Echo found the morgue its self was large, white and empty of people. Living anyway. It was new, upmarket and kept squeaky clean, yet it couldn’t overshadow the cold void of lifelessness. Drenched from the rain, Echo's footsteps squelched under foot on the polished floor.
“You sure you want to do this lass?” One of the officers asked. He had a soft and warm smile. Echo didn’t trust him. He smiled too much and caught her eye one too many times to be normal comforting looks.
Echo blinked and shook her head. “Yes… yes I’m sure.”
Pushing open another set of double doors, a cold chill swept her feet and the hairs across her body stood on end. Like in the movies, the wall was stacked with panels of cold, shiny doors, two feet wide by three feet tall. Their handles were polished to such an extent; it was as if it was someone’s job just to make sure they could see their face in it. An old man, his back curved with age had shuffled forwards in what Echo thought were actual slippers.
Echo hadn’t even realizing her feet had carried her forward to the where the morgue tables were lined up in rows until she was there. She walked between two thick slabs of cold, cut steel and stood opposite the old man next to the wall of sliding coffins. She distantly wondered why she was holding her breath. If the old man had said anything to her to prepare her, Echo hadn’t heard it.
The heavy handle clicked, and door opened in silence. With practiced skill and polish, Gramps pulled the draw out causing the graceful fluttering of the coving sheet, just enough to make it seem like the body-… like Adin was breathing.
“Ready?” Looking up at Gramps, Echo thought she’d suddenly lost her sight; her vision was blurry and out of focus.
“Yeh.” She blinked, unsure why her eyes shed tears. Slowly lifting the sheet, Echo saw what lay underneath. Shoulders relaxed, head and chin raised so he was looking straight up, Adin looked dead. Most people tried to say that people on the cold slabs looked like they were sleeping, but Adin didn’t sleep like this. He curled, just like she did, on his side, back to the wall, face looking out into the room. They kept one hand under their pillow, the other grasping the sheets, knees tight to their chest to guard their stomachs. They protected themselves. They had protected each other.
“He died quickly.” The old man had tried to comfort her, but Echo wasn’t a wide-eyed innocent church girl. She knew guns and bullets, and she knew exit and entry holes. Adin had a bullet hole on his chest, smashing what was once his collar bone, while another bullet had lashed through his ribs. His lungs would have been collapsing from shattered bone, while blood filled them slowly. His arm would have been useless, the bullets tearing at muscles and tendons leaving him defenceless. They’d only shown her his torso, but she knew there would be more wounds where they had aimed for his knees and hips; any way to slow him down. Any way to wound him like an herbivore on the savannah. The kill shot - or shots - where the two on his face. Echo had the fleeting thought that she was surprised they’d shown her his face with the state it was in. But then, she saw her Adin, and everything left her head.
His once handsome, Greek sculpted face that wetted panties and boxers alike was a mash of blood and torn tissue. One bullet had shattering his left cheek bone, travelling through his head and obliterating his left ear, while the other a skimmed at a sharp angle, entering behind his right ear and exiting slightly to the left at the back of his head. Echo looked into those dark holes and could picture perfectly how the bullet would have twisted through the skin, then bone, then membrane and finally through his brain matter; all the while the bullet would be shattering and ricocheting in different directions, turning flesh into mince-meat.
Policemen weren’t meant to take head shots.
“The police on the pursuit were-… overzealous in their efforts to catch your brother.” Echo hadn’t even realized she’d spoken out-loud, her throat thick with tears, until the old man spoke back.
Why was she crying? She’d done this. This was the plan, right? Get Adin caught. Show him he was wrong. All these questions she asked out loud as her knees gave way and her body slumped to the floor. It was lucky the words were out of context, but Echo couldn’t think past the pain the centre of her chest; past the tears in her eyes and the empty, col
dness that sucked the life from her body.
She’d killed him. She’d killed her brother.
✽ ✽ ✽
Sharp shooting pain raced up Echo's arm as the hard wood floor of her apartment rose up to meet her. Her elbow took the brunt of the blow and her hip bone too, but Echo didn’t register it over the pain that had flared in her chest.
“Who…?” She croaked out, but the pain was so sharp it stole her breath. Her damp eyes surveyed the dark apartment. The door was wide open, and it wasn’t until her eyes skimmed over the bed did she see her guest. The back of a head full of soft blonde curls faced her and the last few bars of a pleasant song where being hummed. “Bris?”
Since that afternoon she returned from seeing Adin: Bris, Twilight and Mara had left without a word and it had only been Mara who popped back and forth. Twilight had returned, but only after several years had passed and even then, Echo saw little of him. Bris however had never returned. Not until now it would seem.
“Hello Echo,” the sweetest sing song voice Echo had ever heard spoke. Much like her family, Bris was the incarnation of what she fed on: Archer was all class, Sam all sex, Mara the furry of a woman scorned, Gala the Kings feast, Nic the slob and Twi the bell of the ball. Bris embodied that of a small five-year-old girl with a sugar smile and the cutest dresses. Her hair was always in soft, blonde curls tied with ribbons in pigtails, which rested against pristine white skin. Yet, it was her voice, child-like and sugary, that strangely spoke with wisdom beyond centuries that intrigued Echo.
“Wh-… why did you do that?” Echo asked, thick tears slipping down her face. She was still lying on the floor, but she was slowly starting to gather herself together.
“Do that?” Bris asked in a confused voice. “I did nothing. I merely pushed you to relive your most harrowing moment. The moment you made a mistake; when you pride over took your logic.” She hadn’t turned around on the bed, so Echo couldn’t see her face, but she could imagine the small child rolling her eyes.
“What mistake?” Echo hissed, collecting her feet beneath her. Her towel had slipped off her body and she clutched at it with shaky hands. “I’m – I’m not making a mistake. I’m not letting my pride get the better of me!”
Bris didn’t answer. Instead she was cooing ‘Who’s a good kitty? Who’s a cute kitty?’Now stood, Echo could see Wilson had already curled up beside the child, content with having his belly rubbed. Never did the cat act like that for Echo; the beast would try and kill her.
“I don’t know what memory you saw.” Bris explained. “But if you think I was showing you that cautionary tale for a reason, then that is your conclusion.” Bris answered, making Echo think she was in a therapist’s office. “Therefore, you haven’t intentionally caused anyone harm yet, but your pride and stubbornness just might.” Echo slumped on the couch opposite. She was exhausted even after such a short distance.
“I’m not being stubborn.” Echo watched the small girl, her hair in its gentle curls that hung past her shoulders, while wearing a pristine white dress. Her skin was a beautiful, unblemished peach colour, which shone against her long, luxurious lashes and rose-pink lips. Tiny, delicate fingers twisted and twirl in the air and by some grace of a heavenly being, Bris wasn’t being torn to spreads as she stroked that monstrous cat. “They, those policemen treated me like dirt and then when they want something, they come around all smiles and pleasantries. It’s pathetic. I am not one of Archer’s marks. I don’t do stuff for free because ‘it’s the right thing to do’.”
“But that’s not like what you saw in your memory?” Bris slowly stroked Wilsons belly and the cat was lulled into a state of sleep.
Echo went cold: had she given her help freely to the detectives at the time to get revenge on her brother. For the cruel treatment he gave her? Adin had always expected her to be happy to hear about his tales and how he killed each victim. He always expected her to help him, make him better, more devious, sneakier, like it was her job to stand at the side lines and cheer him on. And now the police, stuck in the mud of their investigation, they wanted her help. Demanded it.
“It’s not the same.” Echo tried to snarl but it came out flat.“Someone might die? So, what? The Detective’s should have been a better detective. I don’t care. And that’s if there really is a danger of dying, which I don’t see happening,” Echo finally said. “Life is nature and so is death. My pride has nothing to do with it.”
“Isn’t it?” Echo cursed Bris for always answering with a question. “We are gods of our Hellish dimension. We rein with power and fear. And yet we are here. Here in the filth of humanity, in the muck of the apes.” Bris was cold now. Gone was the little girl and in its place was the century old demon, filled with knowledge and vengeance. “You think we wallow with the chimps and pigs because we like it?”
Suddenly Wilson howled and hissed viscously. Echo flinched but didn’t move to her cats recue as Bris tightened her grip of the black ball of fur.
“I would suggest I know why you-,” But Bris cut her off, vicious and curl word snapping out her mouth.
“No. You would do well not to assume! You assume you know us – my siblings and I. You assume you know our methods. Your pride and stubbornness will end you child.” Like a gust of wind, Bris was suddenly clam again and Wilson – with a quick swipe of his paw, sprinted away to safety. “I can smell your wounded pride from here.” Bris sneered, shaking her head at Echo, but still the angelic princess didn’t look at her “How do you think it will end, this case?” She asked. Echo could only frown at the floor before she answered.
“The police will never solve it.” Echo answered honestly.
“Exactly.” Bris spat and she finally looked at Echo. Bright, vibrant purple eyes stared Echo down until she felt as small as a mouse. Or a cockroach; cockroaches were squishable. “You were told to keep close to this case, and you have squandered every opportunity. Still the police bang at our door, still they snoop. You’re pride is misplaced and you are sorely failing us.”
Echo sucked in a tiny breath. Whatever pride she might have had dissipated. She was a failure. She couldn’t apologise though, that would make her worthless. “I’ll do better, Bris. I’ll make you all proud.” She promised instead, but Bris just looked away, a cold aloofness settling around them.
Bris asked a question which surprised Echo. “Do you know why I’m the oldest of my siblings Echo?” she asked
Echo hesitated, but recalled what she’d been told before. “You were the first sin the humans felt. You were born of their survival instinct, the pride of reproducing, of catching a kill and fucking each other’s brains out.”
Bris laughed like wind chimes on a summer’s day. “You’ve spent too much time with Samantha. That daemon does like to hear itself talk.” Bris looked back to Echo and still sat in her towel, Echo held her gaze. “I was not born of human sin Echo.” Smiling sadly, she looked away again, sighing deeply. “And God saw everything that he had made, and, behold, it was very good.” Pastors had spoken the same words with less emotion than Bris did right then, and Echo was lost for words. “You see Echo; I have seen humanity grow from the very beginning. It was centuries until my siblings joined me, so I know that when I speak of your pride; it will bring you pain again. It will make the ones you love hate you, and the ones you hate laugh at your demise. Unless you are careful, it could spell some mighty changes you might not be ready for.”
Echo didn’t answer. Couldn’t answer. She’d never tell the others, but Bris had always been the Sin she’d admired the most. Ever growing, everlasting, pride, self-importance, devotion; all undeniable and unstoppable. “So, what, I should be their lap dog? Run around after them all loyal? I don’t bow to any one!” Echo snipped.
Bris stood, arms clasped behind her back and sadness filled her eyes. “Like Adin?” Bris asked, tilting her head to one side. “You saw yourself as Adin’s lap dog? His trusty side-kick? I knew even back then, your pride was always in tatters around him” Echo opene
d her mouth to speak - to quickly derail any suggestion that she’d been a part of his death - but Bris slowly shook her head. “It saddens me you still see yourself that way rather than what you really are...”
Skipping like child she was, Bris moved across the room, leaving a happy Wilson in her wake. “Bris.” Echo said softly, slumped still and her hand tight across her chest, like the pain might flare any moment.
“Humm?” Bris didn’t turn around and instead stood up on her tip-toes reaching for the door handle.
Echo didn’t know what she wanted to say, but she suddenly felt very alone in the wide expanse of her apartment. Should she talk of her brother, how Bris was wrong about Echo feeling the same as she did all those years ago? Or maybe she should ask for advice on the current case? What she should do, how she should proceed…? But each question became stuck in her throat, so instead, she asked a long thought out question she’d never found the time to ask. “Why a child?”
Bris chuckled which could only just be heard over the creak of the door opening. “A child isn’t affected by any of the other Sins for years. My brothers and sisters cannot touch them. Children can’t lust, and they cannot grow angry to the point of insanity. They cannot want for luxuries or wish to rest after a hard day. They might be envious of toy they don’t have, but it’s a fleeting notion; one that boils away quickly the same as any anger they might hold. Gala is the only one who could come as close as I, but as many times as a child might want to eat, they have small stomachs and cannot feast. So, I am their everything. Proud of every accomplishment, I will always live among the humans as a constant, long before they were born, and long after my siblings die.” And like a butterfly on the breeze, she was gone.
