Chapter 34: The Devil Deals the Cards, Part 14

"Good God." Someone doubled over and vomited violently. Sam didn't see it, not even out of the corner of his eye. He couldn't take his eyes off Rose's corpse, and Adams standing over the body with a triumphant expression. Surely he wasn't doing this for money, but it was clear that the truth mattered to him far more than people. He wasn't even looking at him, but his face said: I've won.

"I noticed something strange about you from the beginning," Adams said. For some reason, he still dared to turn his back on him. Good. Sam wasn't the only one who had made a grave mistake. "I don't want to know exactly what you did with the heart, but that's how you managed the miracle of taking Rose's form, right? And Evelyn's."

His heart froze.

He had realized. Of course, how could he not? His true mistake in all of this hadn't been impatience, but underestimating him, thinking he could get away with it anyway.

"I'm sure that if I had her body exhumed, her heart would be missing too. You pushed Kyrie to kill her husband, didn't you? Because the poor sexually abused girl told you about it?"

"What are you insinuating?" Christina asked, practically screaming.

Adams, ignoring her, said it loud and clear for everyone present.

"Or did you tell her a lie, knowing she would believe you no matter what, since for her you were her daughter?"

His frozen heart started beating again, accelerating to a thousand miles per hour. Both things were painful.

"Oh, don't bother answering, boy. I don't need your words anymore. The answers are in Evelyn's grave. Some might say the evidence is quite... circumstantial, but the truth will come out sooner or later. You're finished."

Nothing is over, he thought, clenching his fists.

"Of course it's circumstantial evidence!" Violet shouted, taking a step forward, placing herself in front of him, just like Christina. Perhaps they were becoming convinced that Adams was right, but they resisted. Love had not yet died in their hearts. They wanted to protect him. They wanted to believe in him. "How can you just assume all that? Something so horrible. Evelyn had feelings for Sam, everyone knew that, and Sam cared for her too. I understand you think he'd want to get revenge on her... her... on that man, he has no right to call himself a father. But lie about her sexual abuse, all so that both would die horribly? What kind of monster do you think he is? Nothing you're saying makes sense! Show me one piece of evidence!"

Violet was on the verge of hysteria, barely able to contain herself enough not to break down. Her eyes were brimming with tears and her voice trembled with indignation. Maybe he could get away with it if he played his cards right. Maybe it wasn't too late.

"I already told you, I can't. The answers are in Evelyn's grave," Adams said very calmly. "If I'm right, what do you think he used her heart for if not that?"

"And if you're wrong? And why the hell do you think the heart has anything to do with this? What do you think, huh? That he sacrificed it, burned it? Ate it? What are you talking about?"

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Adams shrugged.

"Somehow he must have achieved the impossible, and the heart is the center from which magical energy flows. I don't see what's strange about taking something from a person or thing you want to turn into. It shouldn't be possible with a human being, too big, too complex, but as you must know there are ways to transform into animals that work similarly."

"Stop talking to me like I'm stupid!" Violet spat. "You're the one not saying anything but nonsense, it doesn't hold up, your theories don't have a leg to stand on."

Adams stared back at her in silence.

"Give me one reason. Tell me what he would gain by doing all that."

"I can't know that."

Mary entered the chapel, at last, rubbing her eyes. Followed by the few adults who had stayed behind to help her rub her eyes, removing the sand, and express their support instead of rushing to the chapel, driven by simple morbid curiosity.

"That's something only the killer can know. However, it's the only theory that made sense. The only one that puts all the pieces together."

It was time to stop playing.

Violet and Christina could resist all they wanted, but he already knew what awaited at the end of the road. He couldn't do anything to hide what he had done to Evelyn, the disappearance of the corpse would be the same as confirming Adam's theories and it's not like he could give her a fake heart and regenerate the damage he had done with the shovel.

So he could only do one thing.

His mission was to kill the Wrights. Massacre most of the family, not all, he could keep some toys if he felt like it.

The traps, the deceptions, the stealth.

It had been the most convenient option, but it had never been the only option.

He wasn't going to waste his second chance. He wouldn't let anyone stand in his way. Filled with determination, Sam stood up straight.

He stepped forward, his hand sliding inside his jacket.

"Sam?" Christina raised her voice, scared.

Otherwise Adams wouldn't have noticed. He was looking elsewhere, as if distracted, as if he already considered him dead and buried. How naive. He supposed he was used to the fight ending when he closed the case, but the real world didn't work like that. He would give him a taste of the real world.

With a quick movement, Sam pulled out the kitchen knife he had hidden in his jacket and brandished it. Adams had resisted his powers once, even if only for long enough to reach the chapel, opening it. Better to play it safe.

He had stashed this days before, of course. He thought it would come in handy in an emergency and he had turned out to be right.

He didn't pierce his chest. His blade didn't reach the damn detective's heart.

But he buried it up to the handle pretty close, and blood flowed abundantly. Adams grabbed the knife, putting his hand over Sam's. His face contorted with effort. He didn't win the struggle, in fact Sam made him stagger backward. A pool of blood was forming at the detective's feet, which wouldn't help him keep his balance.

Sam couldn't lose the struggle, that was clear from the first second, but he couldn't win it either. At least not quickly enough for it to matter. Sooner rather than later someone would intervene on the detective's behalf, physically or with magic, in any case he would be screwed. He would be an easy target, and he would have achieved nothing.

So Sam used his telekinesis, trusting that this time his magic would take effect.

Because of the pain, because of the distraction, because it was an extra effort when he was fighting for his life.

And so it was. He threw him away, like a sack of potatoes, through the chapel window, one of many. He fell outside followed by a deafening explosion of glass. With a bit of luck and the force of the impact, he hoped, the knife would have buried itself deeper into that son of a bitch's chest. Just enough to kill him.

"Sammy?"

The voices of his sisters, almost in unison, behind him. Hollow voices.

Incredulous.

Sam turned around slowly. Feeling a power growing inside him, confirming what he expected. Detective Adams had solved the mystery and paid for it with his life. The chapel was full of people who had to die.

"Sammy?"

He let his demonic eyes burn yellow.

The Devil Deals the Cards, Part 14: END