Page 2 of Ash and Poison

That day, I became a suspect.

Getting caught would be ultimately final, but becoming a suspect, being under the constant scrutiny of law enforcement, feeling the noose tightening around you—that was a true nightmare for a serial killer.

Of course, he didn’t find any evidence of my involvement and had to let me go the next day, but he never truly let go.

He was there, always there, waiting for me to slip, to make a mistake.

And so I ran.

That was four fucking months ago.

That was the last time I killed. The last time I felt free, alive.

The last time I felt like myself.

Dear A,

The spiders come every night when everyone else is asleep. He comes with them, the monster with horns.

Everything is so bright when it happens, so bright my eyes burn like they’re on fire.

The wind is sharp and biting, and his breath smells bitter.

His hands are like iron shackles, his legs like chains that tighten with my struggle.

He’s always whispering, Tick tock.

I cry, I beg.

When it’s finally over, there’s just pain. Only pain. I can’t move or cry.

I want to bury myself in a grave and never come out. Maybe then, it will be over.

It will all be over.

I’m scared, Asher, I’m so scared.

Riley.

1

SCENT OF BLOOD

DIYA

“Are you scared, Doctor?”

I stopped behind a tree, sharpening my ears. The voice was soft and hollow, and it was coming from Doctor Tomlinson’s cottage. I quickened my steps until I was close enough to hear him, to see what was happening.

“You deserve to die screaming, Doctor T,” the angry voice said, filling the eerie silence that wrapped around the trees. “And you will.”

Shit. I had chosen the wrong time to go for a walk.

I peeked through the wooden windows, my heart hammering in my ears.

The cottage was dark, except for the single white bulb hanging from the ceiling, and Doctor Tomlinson sat in a chair, eyes wide, white shirt branded with blood.

Oh. This is bad.