The Devil, the Witch and the Whore (The Deal Book 1)

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The Devil, the Witch and the Whore (The Deal Book 1) Page 44

by Amy Cross


  “A deal?” I reply. “You brought me here to make a deal?”

  “Please. There's no need to thank me for my generosity.”

  Staring at him, I realize he's actually serious. He must be completely insane, just like Esther and everyone else connected to those tunnels, but a moment later I hear a faint tapping sound at the window. Turning, I look over my shoulder, but there's nothing moving on the window's other side.

  Just the dark forest, waiting out there in the night air.

  “What are you most afraid of?” Sebastian asks.

  I turn back to him.

  “Perhaps if you'll tell me what you fear,” he continues, “I can come up with a better offer for you. Whatever it is that scares you, I can make it go away. Forever. And all I ask in return, is for your cooperation regarding the witch.”

  “I'm not making a deal with you,” I sneer. “This is some kind of game. You and Esther and the others are just -”

  Before I can finish, I hear another tapping sound at the window, as if a few light drops of rain hit the glass. Still, I know there's been no rain in this part of the state for months, and I don't see any out there now. For a moment, I can only stare at the window, waiting to see whether something emerges from the darkness on the other side.

  “So what is it?” Sebastian asks. “What do you fear the most?”

  I want to tell him to go to hell, but I think maybe I can see something moving out there in the darkness, just on the other side of the glass.

  “What would be the worst thing for you to see right now?” he continues. “I'm trying to understand you, Ramsey. What would drive the most dread into your heart if it appeared at that window? A ghost, perhaps?”

  I open my mouth to reply, but suddenly I see a pale, skeletal face leaning closer to the window, peering into the house. Its dead eyes stare straight at me, and I feel a shudder pass through my chest as I take a step back.

  “That isn't real,” I whisper, trying to force myself to stay calm.

  “What if it's not a ghost?” Sebastian asks. “What if it's a zombie, instead? Are people still scared of zombies?”

  As the words leave his mouth, the face at the window turns slightly, and I realize that it now has strips of flesh hanging from its skull. It's not scary, though. Not really. I know it can't be real, so it just looks ridiculous.

  “Or perhaps you fear something more monstrous, Ramsey. Something that might draw your blood out, perhaps?”

  Suddenly the face at the window is pushed aside, and another face leers at me, opening its mouth to reveal a set of sharp fangs.

  “No?” Sebastian continues as I take a step back. “Are vampires not your thing? I could try a werewolf, perhaps. There's no limit, really, to the horrors I can put outside this house, but I'm starting to think that perhaps your greatest fear is something less melodramatic, and more earthly. How do you feel about burning to death, my dear? Does that get your pulse racing?”

  Turning to him, I see that he's grinning.

  “Why are you doing this?” I ask. “It's not working, but -”

  Suddenly I hear a roaring sound in the distance, and I turn just in time to see that while there's no longer a face at the window, there's now a set of flames burning through the dark forest. I step closer, until my face is almost against the glass, and I'm shocked to see that a huge fire has erupted, burning the trees and spreading rapidly.

  “It's real,” Sebastian explains. “Everything you see out there is absolutely real, at least for as long as you see it. Are you scared of the fire, Ramsey? Are you fearful of those flames getting closer and closer? I can leave this house any time I like, but you're rather stuck here. And let me promise you, the flames aren't going anywhere. They could burn the flesh from your body and melt the marrow in your bones.”

  “You're sick,” I reply, turning to him. “Do you really think this is going to get me to strike a deal with you?”

  “Oh, I know it will,” he says with a grin. “I just have to find the right fear. And evidently I'm not quite there yet, even though I can sense your heart pounding a little faster with every beat.”

  “There's nothing you can throw at me that'll make me give in to you,” I tell him, stepping closer. “Do you know why? Because anything you do is just a show. If you were going to kill me, if you could kill me, you'd have done it by now. Esther told me that was the one thing you couldn't do, so if anyone in this room right now is scared, it should be you! Because no matter what you try, there is zero chance that I'll ever, ever make any kind of deal with you! I'm not even sure you're real!”

  I wait for him to reply, for him to taunt me some more, but instead he's simply watching me.

  “What now?” I ask finally. “Are we done here? Can I leave now?”

  Again I wait, but he seems to be studying me intently.

  “I never asked to be part of this,” I continue. “I'm not even going to pretend to understand what's going on out here, but I just want you to leave me alone! I have to go and save my -”

  I catch myself just in time.

  Maybe I shouldn't mention that part.

  “What scares you?” he asks, tilting his head slightly. “You're a young woman, still in her teens. What scares young women the most? What scares this particular young woman the most? What scares Ramsey Kopperud?”

  “Is that how you're gonna figure it out?” I reply, turning and heading toward the door. “Good luck if you think -”

  Suddenly someone knocks at the door. Someone just a few feet away, on the other side. I freeze, not daring to reach for the handle.

  “What would be the worst thing to find on the other side of that door?” he continues. “Everyone has a nightmare, something that lurks at the edge of their mind. Something they fear will come for them. Everyone has something that could be waiting outside for them, on their unluckiest night.”

  I open my mouth to tell him to go to hell, but there's another knock at the door.

  I take a step back.

  “Just try to picture it, Ramsey. Try to imagine the thing that wants to come in.”

  “It doesn't work like that,” I whisper. “There's no -”

  I flinch and let out a faint gasp as the door is hammered again, and this time the entire frame rattles slightly. Whatever's out there, it sounds angry and determined, and a moment later the handle starts to turn.

  “It's coming in,” Sebastian says calmly from the far side of the room. “But what is it?”

  The door slowly creaks open, revealing several figures standing silhouetted against the burning forest.

  “Oh, of course,” Sebastian continues, sounding a little relieved that he's finally come up with an answer. “I should have guessed from the start. You're old enough now for the real world to be far scarier than any monster you can imagine. You're pretty typical, Ramsey. You have the same fears as pretty much any girl your age. You're no longer scared of monsters. You know humans can be far more dangerous.”

  I turn to run, but suddenly hands grab my shoulder and pull me back. Letting out a cry, I try to push them away, but I'm quickly shoved to the ground, while one of the hands takes a fistful of my shirt and tears the fabric on the collar. At the same time, another hand grabs my hair and forces my head back, and I stare up at an angry man looking down at me.

  Before I even have time to beg for mercy, I'm shoved to the ground and a boot slams into the back of my neck, holding me in place as my clothes are tugged and ripped. I start screaming, begging for mercy, but already the strength of these men feels too powerful and overwhelming, as if I already know I can't fight back. I try to turn around, but another boot crushes down against my arm, almost breaking the bone with the force of the impact. I cry out, but one of the men is already on top of me, and all I can do is scream with rage as I look across the room and see Sebastian calmly watching me.

  Closing my eyes, I press my face against the wooden floor and start sobbing. I can't fight them, I can't even begin to stop them. All I can do is
squeeze my eyes tight shut and try to scream loud enough to drown out the laughter and baying whoops I hear all around.

  And then suddenly it all stops, and I realize there's only one sound now.

  A constant beep.

  I stay completely still, too terrified to move for a moment, before opening my eyes and turning to see that the men are gone. The door is still wide open, and the forest is still burning, but the attack ended just as the first man was about to get started on me.

  “Interesting,” Sebastian whispers. “I think I might finally be onto something.”

  Looking around, I see that the far end of the room is strangely dark, as if all the shadows have retreated. I start sitting up, feeling a sharp pain in my arm still from where the boot pushed down, but my eyes are starting to adjust to the new darkness and I can just about make out what looks like a hospital bed at the far end of the room.

  “And here was I,” Sebastian continues, “thinking that an attack by a bunch of brutes would be your greatest fear. Now I see that the attack merely brought your true greatest fear to the surface. I understood, at the last moment, what you were scared of losing.”

  “What is this?” I whisper, as the bed becomes clearer in the shadows and I realize that there's a figure resting on its back, with neat, clean white sheets tucked all the way up to his neck, leaving just his face exposed. There's a machine next to the bed, too, just one, but apart from that there are no wires, no tubes or drips. It's as if whoever's in the bed is no longer being treated. They've simply been left to die.

  Feeling a flash of fear in my chest, I take a step closer.

  It's him.

  The man in the bed is my father. He looks so much calmer than usual, and a little thinner too, with the flesh of his face clinging slightly to his cheekbones. He's weak, as if he's done fighting with something that overpowered him, and his hands are resting on his chest.

  I shake my head, but I can already feel my eyes ready to burst with tears.

  “The door is open,” Sebastian reminds me, “and the fire wouldn't prevent you from getting away. You can turn and run. Or...”

  He pauses, still watching me.

  “Or is running your greatest fear? Are you scared that you'll run from your father, and that he'll be alone when he dies?”

  “This isn't real!” I stammer, as tears run down my cheeks. “This isn't him!”

  “Of course it's not,” Sebastian says calmly. “But it will be. A month from now, maybe six months at most. It will be real. And I assure you, the real version will be so much harder to bear than any illusion you see before you now. And perhaps you'll be gone again by then. Back in New York. Perhaps you won't be able to bring yourself to be with your father when he dies. Perhaps you'll argue with him and leave again. Is that what scares you?”

  Reaching the bed, I place my hands on the frame. The metal is cold, so cold that I immediately move my hands onto the sheets, but they turn out to be cold too. My father, meanwhile, continues to rest peacefully, although after a moment I see that one of his eyes is very slightly open and staring straight up at me.

  “I won't go anywhere,” I whisper, filled with panic. “I swear.”

  He lets out a faint gasp, just a tiny curl of sound from his lips, but it's enough to let me know that he understands.

  Reaching across the sheets, I take his hands in mine. He feels so frail now, and so cool.

  “I'm going to stay right here,” I tell him. “I swear, I won't go anywhere. I'm so -”

  Suddenly he lets out a retching sound that makes his whole body shudder. Shocked, I watch as his eyes slide open, and a moment later he makes the sound again. He turns, as if he's trying to climb off the bed, but his body quickly shudders several more times.

  “What's wrong with him?” I stammer. “Why are you torturing him? Please -”

  Before I can finish, his whole body starts shaking violently and he lets out a series of loud, guttural barking sounds.

  “What are you doing to him?” I scream, putting my hands on his shoulders so that he can't throw himself over the side of the bed and fall to the floor. “You're making him sound like a goddamn seal!”

  The shaking and the barking suddenly stop, and Dad slumps back against the bed for a moment. He's breathless, and I swear I can see fear in his eyes. Spotting thick saliva at the edge of his mouth, I wipe him clean.

  “Hiccups,” Sebastian says calmly. “Not uncommon among patients in their final days.”

  “These can't just be hiccups,” I reply angrily, as I smooth the matted, sweaty hair from the side of Dad's face. “You're going to be okay,” I tell him, reaching down to squeeze his hands tight. “I promise. They can try another treatment.”

  He looks up at me with watery eyes, and a moment later I feel him squeeze my hands in return. His lips move slightly, as if he's trying to say something, but he seems unable to get the words out.

  “What is it?” I ask, leaning closer. “I'm here, Dad. I'm not -”

  Suddenly the hiccups return and his whole body convulses.

  “Dad, stop!” I yell, trying once again to keep him in the bed as his body jerks and shudders. These hiccups are getting louder and louder, as if his throat is trying to break free from the rest of his body, and all I can do is hold him tight and hope that they stop soon. For several seconds, I feel him spasming in my arms, until finally he falls still again and peace returns to his body. I hold him for a moment longer, trying to make him feel better, and then I carefully lower him back down against the bed.

  With tears streaming down my face, I kiss his forehead as he tries – and fails – to whisper something to me.

  “Make this stop!” I hiss angrily, turning and looking at Sebastian. “I don't want to see it! It's not even real!”

  “No,” he replies, “it's not real. Just think how much harder it'll be when it is.”

  I open my mouth to tell him to go to hell, but suddenly the machine next to the bed starts letting out a flat, persistent tone, and I realize Dad has fallen completely still. Reaching down, I put my arms around him again, hoping to bring him back. I hold him for a moment longer until finally I dare look at his face, and I immediately see that he's at peace. His eyes are still open, but I can already tell that he's gone. Still holding his body, not daring to let go, I put a hand on the side of his face. Somehow, I can feel the complete stillness that has been left behind now that his heart has stopped beating.

  It takes several minutes before I hear the sound of the fire still burning outside. I tell myself that the thing in my arms isn't really my father, and after a moment I feel the weight of his body fade away until I find that I'm holding nothing.

  I look down at the bed as it disappears into the darkness, and then I turn to Sebastian.

  “Well, at least we got there eventually,” he says, with a hint of satisfaction in his voice. “Now I know your greatest fear, I feel I can propose a far more interesting deal.”

  “You can go to hell, is what you can do,” I reply, turning and storming toward the open door.

  “Your father is in the tunnels right now.”

  I stop and look back at him.

  “I'm not lying to you, Ramsey. He's in the tunnels under Devil's Lookout, with one of his deputies, searching the witch's chamber. They're in a great deal of danger. There's a distinct chance that your father will never get to his deathbed, because he'll die tonight. After all, that fire out there in the forest is very real, and it has already almost reached the entrance closest to your father's position. On the plus side, if he burns to death, at least the cancer won't claim him.”

  “Why are you doing this?” I ask, shaking with anger.

  “You know how to reach him,” he replies. “Follow the ridge, and then go along the dried riverbed when you reach the two twisted pines. You'll find the right entrance soon enough. If you hurry, you can still save your father. But I want you to understand what it'll mean, Ramsey. If you save him tonight, our deal will be set in stone. You'll never
have to face your father's death, not at the hands of the fire and certainly not in a hospital bed as cancer claims him. I can keep him alive for you, and in return all you have to do is leave the witch alone. Don't meddle in something you don't understand, in something that began long before you were even born. She's mine.”

  “I'm not making a deal with you,” I stammer. “You're a monster.”

  With that, I turn and hurry out onto the porch and down the steps, although I stop for a moment as I see that the forest fire has really taken hold now, with huge trees burning all around the edges of the clearing. Finally, however, I spot a gap in the flames, and I realize that it's almost as if the fire has left a path that runs along the ridge.

  A path for me to follow.

  “If you save your father, Ramsey,” Sebastian continues, having come to watch me from the doorway, “then it means you've accepted the terms of the deal. I'll provide a path for you. I sincerely hope you'll do the smart thing.”

  “Go to hell!” I hiss, running past the side of the house and over toward the ridge.

  The heat of the flames almost forces me back, but I make my way along the ridge, where a corridor has been left for me to follow. After just a couple of seconds, I hear a loud cracking sound over my shoulder, and I turn to see that one of the huge burning pines is falling. The ground shudders as the tree crashes to the ground, and a burst of flames rushes up into the air, blasting me with heat.

  My path back is blocked.

  I couldn't return to that weird little house, even if that was what I wanted.

  I'm momentarily overcome by the sight of the forest burning all around me, but I quickly realize that I have to keep going. Turning, I start hurrying along the ridge, desperately trying to reach Dad before this entire forest burns to the ground.

 

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