“She might be an illegal immigrant or something, there’s no record of her birth or former parenting,” a young man holding a clipboard said. “All we know is that she’s the daughter of Mr. Schultz and his wife, Grace Bailey-Schultz.”
An older married couple sat across from the man with the clipboard. “Well, someone’s got to raise her,” the older man said. “If she doesn’t have a home she’ll end up on the streets.”
“You’re correct” the young man replied, “but you do know what adopting an older child can entail, right? You could have difficulties with her behavior. Her parents are dead, at least, so she won’t try to run off back to them, but that isn’t the only thing that can go wrong.”
“I understand,” the older man said. “I’ve raised two kids of my own, I know how to deal with a little bit of rebellious attitude.”
“Very well,” the man with the clipboard said. “I’ll bring Brooklyn in now.” He stepped up to a door behind him, opened it, and walked through, shutting the door behind him.
“Are you sure about this, Samuel?” The woman, who had been silent until now, spoke to her husband.
“Yes, Katrina. You wanted another child, right?” Samuel replied.
“This girl’s parents died in those grizzly murders, though. Maybe we should think about this later,” Katrina said.
“Nonsense. She’ll be happy to have a new home after everything that’s happened to her.”
“I hope so.”
The man from before walked back into the room. With him was a small girl, looking to be about 12 years of age. Her expression was hollow and soulless, and she avoided eye contact with the others in the room. She had dark brown hair and grey eyes, and in her hands was an antique polaroid camera.
“What’s that you’ve got there?” Samuel asked.
Brooklyn stared at him. Whether it be in awe or in terror he couldn’t tell. That stare unnerved him, but it clearly wasn’t one of condemnation. The girl looked confused, unwise to her surroundings entirely.
“I should mention” the man added, “she hasn’t spoken at all since she arrived. She isn’t mute, as far as we’re aware, just terribly shy.”
“That’s fine, it can be helped,” Samuel said. “I think things should be fine, we’d like to adopt her.”
“You coming to that conclusion awful quickly, why do we try to get to know her first?” Katrina said.
“Nonsense. We can meet her when we get back home,” after addressing his wife, Samuel turned to the man with the clipboard. “Can you bring out the paperwork?”
“Already right here, sir,” the man set the clipboard down on the table. Samuel began scanning through it with pen in hand.
“I really don’t think this is-“ Katrina voiced her worries but was interrupted.
“Nonsense!” Samuel said in a quiet but authoritative tone. “Do you want the kid or not?”
Katrina leaned back in resignation.
After finishing the paperwork and handing it over to the younger man, Samuel turned to his newly-adopted daughter. “Well then, Brooklyn, you ready to come home?”
[ cut ]
“Hey kid” Samuel asked, “I forgot to ask earlier, when’s your birthday?”
“There a far more important questions than that, dear,” Katrina said.
“Who cares,” Samuel rebutted.
The trio were on their way home from the orphanage, driving down the road in their family car. Brooklyn was still yet to say a word.
“Hey, kid” Samuel said, “why haven’t you said anything? I thought you’d be asking a bunch of questions.”
Brooklyn remained silent.
“How about this” Samuel said, “until you can tell us otherwise, today’s your birthday. We’ll take you anywhere you want, just say the word.”
Brooklyn’s continued silence unnerved Samuel.
“Really? Nothing?” Samuel asked. “Are you okay? Is there something wrong?”
“Relax, dear,” Katrina said. “She’s probably just nervous.”
“I didn’t ask you,” Samuel sighed and kept his eyes on the road.
Brooklyn still said nothing.
“I guess doughnuts it is, then,” Samuel said. “Your mom’s favorite.”
[ cut ]
“Well, at least she knows how to eat,” Samuel said, sitting in the driver’s seat of his car parked in front of a small doughnut shop. He glanced back to the other half of the car.
Brooklyn, still sitting in the back seat, was quietly, but very quickly, devouring her recently acquired meal.
“A little gratitude would be nice though,” Samuel continued. “I guess we can look past that for now.”
“Honey” Katrina said, “this isn’t going to help her. All you’re doing it-“
“Doing what?!” Samuel replied, “What am I doing wrong?!”
“Nothing, dear,” Katrina said with a sigh, leaning back into her chair.
“Why are you always trying to argue with me?!”
“It’s nothing.”
“Really?! Nothing? If you’re this insistent we can always leave the girl back at the orphanage. That’s what you want, right?!” Samuel began to raise his voice.
“No! What are you thinking? She can hear you right now, why would you say something like that?!”
“Maybe if you could just tell me what your problem is I wouldn’t have to,” Samuel said.
“You don’t have to say that,” Katrina replied.
“Alright then, we’re taking her back. It’s your fault if she-“
Samuel was interrupted by the sounds that accompany a young girl’s tears. He looked into the back seat and saw Brooklyn lying on her side with her hands covering her ears, crying.
“Look you monster, she’s crying now,” Katrina said, unbuckling her seat and exiting the car. She re-entered from one of the back doors and sat on the seat next to Brooklyn, putting he hand on her side. “It’s okay, Brooklyn, we’re not going to abandon you.”
“Speak for yourself,” Samuel said. Katrina gave him an infuriated glare. Samuel sighed and relented. “Sorry.”
[ cut ]
I found myself on a plane of boundless white glass. I was curled up with my arms around my legs, sitting on the ground. The world around me, the car, the two people, they were all gone. My body felt agile and weightless, but my mind felt weak and empty. It had always felt that way, but now I knew of the absence of something.
“Hello, child…” A voice echoed out from across the horizon. At first it was a deafening sound, but I realized that I simply wasn’t used to a voice in isolation. The echoes spoke in a whisper, something I knew that only I could hear. “It seems you’ve finally awakened.”
I knew the words but could not speak. My body simply didn’t know what I needed to do to reply.
“I can help you with that, child,” the voice said. “This will take but a moment.”
Suddenly, my head began to throb. It was as though someone was trying to shove information directly into my brain. Well, that was exactly what was happening.
[ cut ]
“It hurts…” I said quietly, still clenching at the sides of my head. Those were my first words, a dulled exclamation of pain.
“It’s okay, we’re not going to leave you behind,” the woman next to me said. I know her name, but I know who she is, my mother. Not my original mother, of course, she died. Katrina was a replacement, someone who would take care of me in my dead mother’s stead. “Just breathe, it’s gonna be alright.”
“It hurts…” I echoed once more. My head still pounded, trying to process my newfound gift of speech.
Who was that voice? Where did they come from?
[ cut to: ashton ]
I stood before the wall strewn with symbols, clutching my new photo in hand. How had Brooklyn seen the mark on my hand, and more importantly why would she draw it? Look closer at one of the photos, there was a date written on it. The photo was less than a year old, but before my encounter at the library. I didn’t have this symbol on my arm yet, since I only saw it after Noe and I defeated the demons there.
Unless this mark was there the whole time and I just didn’t know. If there was another reason I couldn’t see it I could very well have had it since even before I had been to the library the first time. It could even have been from…
…the accident two years ago.
All I remember was that voice. When I was unconscious, someone spoke to me. I don’t remember what they said, but I remember what the voice sounded like very clearly. It was a woman’s voice; it sounded a lot like... No, that’s not who it is, that’s not a possibility. However, I couldn’t have seen the mark at that point, since Noe hadn’t given me one of her eyes yet, but it’s very possible that the mark could be related to the first set of pentagram killings rather than this one.
Brooklyn’s parents both died in the last set of killings. I don’t know the details beyond that. However, I did live in the area, and Brooklyn transferred into my school only about a year after the killings. Wouldn’t she have stayed in the same class if she hadn’t moved? She’s never said anything about living somewhere else for a year, which I feel like she would have brought up before.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
Brooklyn and this mark must be connected in some way, some way that I still don’t understand. I have to learn more; I need to figure out what this all has to do with Noe.
Speaking of Noe, didn’t Eden say that her body’s age seemed to date back to the first set of pentagram killings? Wait… if Noe’s body is only two years old, and she was at least physically human, wouldn’t it mean that it’s possible that…
[ cut to: brooklyn ]
Every night I hear that voice. It’s become something regular for me now. I’ve never questioned why, but it seems to care for me in some way. It helped me learn to speak, it helped me get into high school, it’s been helping me repair the camera my dad left for me, it even helped me make a friend.
That friend was walking down the road towards me right now. His light brown hair and blue eyes faintly reflected the dull sunlight peaking through the clouds. He brought his camera; he must be here to take pictures of the library. The voice told me not to go inside the library, but that my friend would go in and take pictures for me, and that it would be safe if he went inside.
“Ash? What are you doing here?” I said as he approached.
I should explain. His name is Ashton Phillips, or Ash for short. He and I are in the same high school, where I met him this year, when I transferred into the school. I started the photography club, and Ash joined with a bunch of his friends. I’ve always had an interest in weird rumors, but that isn’t exactly the reason I started the club. The voice told me to do it, it said that it would help me get closer to Ash.
“I’m coming to take a few pictures, and you?” Ash asked. He was lying, at least partially. I could tell these things, I don’t know exactly how or why, but I knew that he wasn’t telling the truth. He must have come here to investigate.
“Oh, I’m trying to see what the ghosts are doing.”
“The ghosts?”
That’s right, I should probably explain that too. Ever since I was little, I’ve been able to see things that other people can’t. I started calling them “spectral footprints”. I think they’re left by spirits of some kind, hence “ghosts”.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” I said. “The ghosts leave their footprints around places where spiritual activity is high, that’s probably because there are so many of them there.”
“Look, I don’t know exactly what you’re talking about, but if you’ve already taken your pictures here, I suggest you leave. The teachers say this place is dangerous and they’re probably right.”
“But if I leave, I won’t be able to see the ghosts anymore.”
“What ghosts? I know all of that’s made up, you don’t have to keep talking like that.”
It isn’t made up; I’m telling the truth. Why is Ash so stubborn about this kind of stuff.
“Come over here, I can show you,” I told him. I took the camera off of my neck and held it out to him.
Alright, fine,” Ash said as he walked over that took the camera from me. “What do you want me to do?”
“Take a picture.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because that’s how you can see the ghosts,” I said. For some reason, whenever someone takes a picture with this camera, they can see the same things that I can. I think the camera must be cursed somehow, but I have no idea who or what could have cursed it.
Ash pointed the camera at the library door and took a photo. The camera then printed the picture.
“There it is! That’s the ghost!” I pointed out a faint glow on the now-printed picture.
“What do you mean? This is probably just a printing defect. I bet it’d be in a completely different place if you just retook the photo.”
“Well then, try it again.”
“Really? This thing’s gonna run out of film eventually, right?”
“Just do it, I don’t care.”
Ash took another photo; the distortion remained.
“Wait, what?” I said. “This really is in the photo.”
“I told you, it’s a footprint from the ghosts.”
“So you’re telling me this place really is haunted?”
“You bet! I’m sure you’ll find lots of ghosts inside!”
“Why haven’t you gone inside yet then?”
“Because it’s scary, and the ghosts might haunt me in my sleep if I disturb them.”
“Don’t be such a coward, I’m sure they won’t hurt a nice young girl like you.”
“Shut up, why don’t you go inside if I’m just being a coward.”
“Fine, I will. Do you want me to bring in your camera and take pictures?”
“Of course I do!” I handed him the camera, “Be careful with that, it’s an antique!”
“I will, don’t worry.”
[ cut ]
A few minutes later, I heard something slam against the main door. It was as though someone was trying to escape, but they didn’t realize you had to pull the doors from the inside.
“Help me! Somebody help me!” I heard Ash’s voice cry from the inside.
I rushed over to make sure he was okay. I had to push against his body weight on the door until he jumped back, allowing me to open it.
Once the door was open, he stared at me with wild, terrified eyes. His hands were covered in blood. It scared me, a little bit, but I knew that Ash would never kill anyone.
“What’s going on? Is everything okay?” I asked.
“We’re leaving, now.”
“Why would we-“
“Because I said so.”
I paused for a moment, waiting for someone to answer.
“Go with him,” the voice in my mind said. “You can trust Ash.”
“Okay,” I said before looking back down to Ash. “I’ll trust you.”
[ cut ]
After we got back to Ash’s house, he finally noticed the blood and offered to clean off my camera. I was grateful that he was willing to do that for me, even if it was his fault that it got dirty in the first place. Well, actually, that isn’t entirely true. I was the one who gave him the camera and told him to take pictures for me. I wonder if he actually took a few. I guess not, he probably would have given them to me.
“I think it’s time you learn the truth,” the voice in my head said. “Go back to the library.”
“But it’s scary there,” I replied. “Ash said that the student who went missing was dead in there.”
“He was lying wasn’t he?”
That’s true, he was.
“Yeah…”
“So you have nothing to fear. Even still, I’ll protect you. Have faith in me,” the voice assured.
“Alright then…” I was still nervous, rightfully so, but the voice had never tried to get me hurt before. I could definitely trust it. Even Ash had lied to me before, but the voice has always said nothing but the truth.
It was an hour-and-a-half walk, and fairly late at that. It was around 7, I think, so it wasn’t starting to get dark quite yet. I arrived at the library and entered through the front door. The door’s inside had bloody handprints all over, likely from Ash. The spectral footprints, however, were everywhere. Alongside-
Suddenly, something rushed up to me and pinned me to the ground. It was huge, a creature made of shadow that reflected every human nightmare at once. Millions of red spots, eyes, covered its hide, seeming to appear wherever my gaze met. It had tentacles that stretched out from its body and giant fangs within its maw. I was terrified. Is this what Ash had seen? No, he would have said something about it, right?
“Help… me…” I said weakly as I closed my eyes, waiting for my life to be swiftly ended.
But the end never came.
“It’s okay, those weaklings won’t hurt you,” the voice in my head said. “It is I who command them in the first place.”
“You… command them?” I asked.
“Open your eyes.”
When I opened my eyes, the creature was gone, leaving the path further into the library open.
“Go deeper inside,” the voice said. “Find the truth.”
The truth… what is the truth? Why is it so important? I wandered into the library. Something immediately caught my eyes.
There was a body hanging from the ceiling, just like Ash said.
“What…” I muttered, not expecting a response. What did the voice mean by “truth”?
“What you see before you is death; nothing more, nothing less,” the voice said. “Death, that which is your birthright.”
“Birthright?”
“You and I are one and the same, child. You should know that Brooklyn is not your real name, an imaginary one that the humans created for you,” the voice explained. “Your true name is…”
“…Abaddon,” I said. The words flew from my lips and seemed to create a violent breeze throughout the enclosed library. How did I know that name? Where did it come from? Where did I come from? Who was I? More importantly, what was I?
[ cut ]
When I arrived home, my parents were bickering again. This was a common occurrence in my new household, one that couldn’t be avoided anymore.
“Why didn’t you pick up the groceries?!” Samuel shouted at Katrina.
“Because I thought you were going to do that on your way home from work,” Katrina replied.
I sat down at the table and started fidgeting with my camera.
“You could have had Brooklyn do it if you didn’t want to go, you didn’t pick them up on purpose!” Samuel said.
“No, I just thought that-“
“Don’t give me excuses!” Samuel interrupted. “And don’t just assume that I’m going to do something for you.”
“Honey, please” Katrina said, visibly on the verge of tears, “calm down, Brooklyn just got home.”
“You’re just using her to deflect, aren’t you,” Samuel said.
What a stupid argument. I can’t believe dad is so upset over being asked to get the groceries.
“Why do you think she’s gone all the time? It’s because of this. It’s because of your behavior,” Katrina said.
Samuel hit Katrina.
What a scumbag, things would be better for all of us if he just died. I can’t believe mom and I are still putting up with this.
“Don’t turn her against me!” Samuel shouted. “This is about you, not Brooklyn.”
At this point, even I was starting to feel angry towards him.
“Please, just stop this. Brooklyn doesn’t need to see this,” Katrina said.
“What?! What does she not need to see? This is reality! This is how things are!” Samuel said. “Brooklyn needs to know what happens when people step out of line.”
There was no way he’d reach my boiling point, right? If I lashed out at him, he’d probably beat me.
“Just stop, Samuel, please!” Katrina was now visibly crying. “Enough.”
“No! It’s not ‘enough’! This isn’t the first time this has happened, either!” Samuel continued, putting his hand to his brow. “Stop using Brooklyn to get what you want!”
“You need to stop throwing your weight around like you own the place!” Katrina replied.
Samuel hit her again.
“I do own the place, bitch!” He screamed.
That was it. He had crossed the line; my line, at least. Mom didn’t have to suffer like this, we can survive on our own.
“Leave her alone,” I said quietly as I stood up from my chair, slowly raising my voice. “Just shut up and die already!”
I felt my heartbeat tick by in slow motion. The rage in my father’s eyes slowly faded to a complacent nothingness as he reached for a kitchen knife on the nearby counter and slit his own throat.
Katrina screamed.
All I could do was stand there, watching silently. I that I had done this, but it was for my mother, right? She should be happy now, we’re safe without Samuel around.
“You monster!” Katrina shouted as she now sat down on the kitchen floor, cowering against the counter behind her. “We never should have picked you up from that orphanage!”
Oh, of course, she hates me. I knew that mom never likely me that much, but I was expecting her to be overjoyed that her husband killed himself in front of her, even if it was me who forced him to do that.
“You’re a demon! No more human than the killer that took away your parents!” Katrina cried. “Go back to hell where you belong!”
Why should I have expected her to embrace me, thanking me for what I had done? I must have been being stupid. It’s just like that voice, rather, my voice told me. My birthright is death, nothing more, nothing less.
“See. This is how they think of you,” the voice said. “It would be better for them if you never existed. This woman will call the police if you don’t do anything, kill her.”
What? Why should I do that? At worst I was considering my position as an indifferent god, one that cares not for insects below. To kill this woman now would be murder. So what if the police show up? I can deal with them if they attempt to apprehend me.
“You misunderstand,” the voice answered. “If the events that have transpired in the room are made public, we’ll never be able to get close to Ash. You know how horrible that would be.”
True. I suppose I’ll have to put my personal biases aside for now for the sake of my future.
“I’m sorry, mother,” I said. “You don’t need to suffer any more. Please, die.”
[ cut to: ashton ]
No, that isn’t possible either. Noe is the angel of death; Ronin was just mistaken. There’s no way he would kidnap Brooklyn if he knew that… unless he was trying to get her away from us.
It’s been awfully quiet; don’t Brooklyn’s parents live here?
I began to search the building, but it didn’t take me long to find a lead. What was presumably a bathroom door, based on the vacancy sign hung above it, was locked from the inside. There was no keyhole so if I wanted to see what was inside, I would have to force my way through.
I went into the kitchen downstairs to see if there was a knife or something I could use to pry the door open. Surprisingly, there was a kitchen knife lying around on the floor… covered in… blood. It was a few days old, so it was probably just an accident or something. Still, with the killings going on, my nerves were getting the better of me.
I returned to the restroom door, jammed the knife into the doorframe, and started trying to pry the door open. It didn’t take long, as the door’s locking mechanism wasn’t particularly sturdy. The whole handle, lock and all, was torn from the lightweight wooden body of the door before it fell to the ground, the door swinging into the bathroom.
There were two bodies in the restroom here. One was an adult man, maybe in his 50s or 60s. His neck had a large gash in it and his body was covered in tiny flies. He was most certainly dead. The other was a woman, but I couldn’t see her face. Her body was bloated on account of her head being submerged in the bathtub; she had drowned. The room smelled awful, even worse than the harbor. Most importantly, however, was the window, which had several bloody handprints on and nearby its surface. Someone had climbed out of the room; this was a murder.
What the hell happened here? Was this Brooklyn’s doing? No, that can’t be. I trusted her, I trusted Brooklyn. I need answers.
Or do I?
If Noe is the angel of death, I can see her again. In fact, I can spend the rest of eternity with her if I so wish. It’d be better than living in a world where everyone betrays me, where even my best friend is a murderer. I should just die, just like all of the victims. My sister doesn’t care about me, DEED certainly doesn’t after what I did to them, and Brooklyn is a murderer. For all I know, she’s behind all of these insane murders.
I’ll jump off of a building, that’ll work. My sister works at a tech company, so I can probably get into the building if I say I’m there to meet her. Then, I can ride the elevator up to the roof and jump off. I’ll see Noe again, even if I end up in hell. Hell must certainly be better than this place.
[ chapter end ]