Chapter 47: I Am the One Who Rings Death's Bell, Part 1

A few hours earlier. Shortly after arriving, Christina, Violet, and he sat at the dining table by candlelight. They acted as if they were afraid someone might see them from outside. Or rather, him—but no one knew what he was. Only they did.

A world with indoor plumbing but no trace of electricity.

The small oddities would probably fascinate someone else. But Sam honestly didn’t care what world he was in. If he’d had the necessary power in his previous life, he would have acted the same way. But he hadn’t. That Sam had been nothing more than a shadow of a man. Even if he ended up failing, these few weeks had allowed him to become much more of a complete human being than he had ever been in his old world.

Of course, that didn’t mean he was willing to settle for failure. For almost getting what he wanted. Almost was the same as never, as nothing.

Sam Wright was a good Antichrist. He "suffered" from all the sins, but without a doubt, the one that weighed most heavily on him was greed. Or was it pride, which in turn paved the way for greed? In any case, he would never give up.

"I told you on the way, Violet. Nero is really the only person I consciously decided to kill. After Evelyn died, I assumed he had done it to silence her. Even if it’s not true, he deserved to die anyway. We should agree on that."

"We do, if it's true," said Violet. "But he wasn’t the only one who died."

Sam sighed.

"I had to tell her. If you’re going to say I should have seen his suicide coming or that I should have personally killed Nero, I can’t argue. But I didn’t see it. That’s the truth. I was full of rage, Violet. I still am. I wanted to kill him with my own hands. And I wanted to protect her mother. It just... went wrong..."

"Don’t be unfair," Christina added. "You know he loved her very much."

Christina placed a hand over Violet’s, which rested on the table, squeezing it. Violet lowered her gaze to their intertwined hands. There was a lot of pain there. It was understandable that she was resisting even as she longed to believe him with all her heart. She was so afraid of losing the little she had left.

Sam could read her like an open book.

He might have been a wicked son of a bitch, but he was good at understanding people.

"The problem is, I don’t know what to believe anymore," Violet replied slowly, after a while. "You see it so easily because..."

"What? Finish that sentence." Christina immediately tensed up.

"Because he’s screwing you, happy now? You knew perfectly..."

"I believe him for the same reason you should: he's my brother. Period. What happened has nothing to do with that."

"Of course it does. Something that huge changes everything. Deep down, you know I’m right, Christina."

And Sam was good at recognizing opportunities to sink his claws in. This argument, which others might see as a sign that he was losing Violet or that he never had a chance to convince her, was one in his eyes.

"Enough," Sam said, trying to sound pleading, almost. "I love you both. You’re my sisters, and I don’t want to see you fighting, over me or anything. Violet, if you want me to turn myself in, I will."

Christina practically jumped to her feet, letting go of Violet’s hand to slam both fists on the table. The candelabra was close to falling over. The flame trembled.

"I won’t allow it!"

Sam ignored Christina (though it was hard; she looked gorgeous with her hair stuck to her face from sweat, too angry for her own good, making him want to drag her to bed and have some fun again), locking eyes with Violet.

The decision was in her hands, he told her.

And it was. He wouldn’t give up just because she told him to, obviously, but he didn’t think he could turn Christina against her own weapon. No matter how angry she thought she was right now.

Not that he wanted to. What he wanted was for them to cooperate in pleasing him.

He wanted two little sluts to ease his monotonous moments; it couldn’t all be plans, betrayals, and massacres. Well, more precisely, what he wanted was everything a man could desire. Greedy. Economic power, physical and mental power, and all the attractive women he wanted. He had no intention of leaving anything on the table this time. Nor of sharing with anyone.

Violet remained silent, which was a good sign, so he had to be the first to speak.

"Well? Although you should know I won’t receive a fair trial. They’ll hang me or burn me at the stake, but not before torturing me until they’ve had enough, because to them, I’m pure evil. Am I to you as well?"

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He already knew the answer, of course. That’s why Violet had followed them on this journey. She had no other reason not to stay where she was and respond sincerely. Even if it was mainly for Christina, she had left her home behind and let him be. That meant something. He didn’t miss it.

But he had to twist the knife in the wound, even more so since she still felt something for him. He had to, or he’d really lose her. He would use any tool at his disposal to manipulate her.

"I’ll respect your decision," Sam said. "I don’t want you to lose what little family you have left because of me."

"Don’t talk as if you hadn’t killed the rest."

"They wouldn’t have given me a fair trial either."

"He’s right, Violet. Why don’t you understand?" Christina clenched her fists.

"They weren’t the ones who attacked first," Violet said.

Frankly, he didn’t even remember who had attacked first anymore. Everything had happened too quickly, but in the end, it didn’t matter. If it were about what was true and what wasn’t, it wouldn’t have been worth trying in the first place.

"You remember wrong, they almost killed me, for God’s sake. If I had tried to talk to them, to reason, they would have killed me. They never gave me the chance."

"Would you have tried if you thought it possible?" Violet asked.

"Tell me what I’m doing with you two if not. I never wanted to kill anyone. Nor to be born the way I was. It’s not my fault; it could have happened to anyone. Even to you. I doubt Satan cares whether he has a male or female body, as long as he has one."

Yes, he had revealed it to her. The desperation of being caged. That he was the plan to end it, though he didn’t know the details. He had no reason not to tell them. Quite the opposite. He wouldn’t automatically win their trust, obviously; he had never expected that, but it gave them one more good reason to believe that Satan was not his father, his mentor, or his guide, but an enemy.

"Am I evil just because of how I was born? Because of what I am? I don’t think that has much to do with Biblical teachings, with the values Jesus preached."

"I’m not blaming you for your birth. I’m blaming you for what I can blame you for—your actions."

"What are you even doing here if you’re not willing to listen to him?" Christina murmured softly, almost inaudibly. Because she was trying not to explode, he understood. Not to break what she had with the only family she had left.

The only one.

She no longer saw him exactly as her brother, even when she called him that, after all. They had always had that desire, but they had crossed a line. She saw him more as a man than as her brother.

If you asked him, he’d say incest was like a species, but she could do whatever she wanted as long as she was willing to end up beneath him. Or on top, depending.

Violet ignored Christina.

"So, do you believe they wouldn’t have killed me after all? That I was wrong to defend myself, thinking it was a matter of self-defense?"

"We begged you to come with us," she replied instantly, as if she had been replaying the words in her head, over and over. "You could have fled. The chapel incident, fine, self-defense. But what you did in the mansion... how can you justify that?"

Sam decided to hold her gaze for a few seconds, then look away, as if he were ashamed to some extent.

"I understand that you want to believe things could have gone differently, but they would never have stopped searching for us. They wouldn’t rest until they had my head on a pike. And yours too. For helping the son of the devil. I hope you soon understand that, Violet. For everyone’s sake."

That essentially ended the conversation. The weak protests soon subsided. So that she could speak with Christina in private, as he had discovered at night, waking up by chance at the perfect moment (not that it was hard to guess). But essentially, it was over.

——

The following morning, Christina was the one who approached him for a private conversation.

“I understand that you’re worried, but I don’t think she’s going to betray us,” Sam said, placing a hand on her bare knee. Normally, the dresses of rich young ladies were longer, at least in this era, but that had drastically changed on their journey here. True, but he was making it seem more significant than it was. They had stopped so Christina could take a piss, and she had torn part of her dress on a bush. She decided to take the practical route and ripped it further, turning it into a short skirt. Nothing out of the ordinary. “She’s family.”

“She could have insisted on staying behind, she could have betrayed us already. I know that.”

Christina’s face darkened.

She gave him a hug, burying her face in his chest and digging her nails into his back.

“It hurts,” Christina murmured.

Sam simply hugged her back. He also knew when it was best to stay quiet and let the other person speak. It was easier to let someone convince themselves than to deceive them. Sure, he had Christina already, but it never hurt to make sure.

To ensure she wouldn’t slip from his control, that is.

“We’ve always been together, the three of us. I can’t stand the way she looks at you. And I hate that I have to look at her like that too. Wondering if she’s lying to me, wondering if she’s going to hurt me.”

“Like the rest of the family looked... looked at each other,” Sam said, more to fill the silence than anything else, hoping to encourage her to keep talking.

Christina nodded against his chest.

“We were supposed to be different. Together forever.”

“It doesn’t have to change. It’s not too late.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“I have to believe it.” It was more realistic, more human, than what he actually thought: Yes, I have no doubt.

“But you love me more, don’t you?”

The girl... no, the woman leaned back so she could look at him with tearful, anxious eyes. That probably wasn’t the only thing that was wet, huh.

“I only love Violet as a sister. I’ve always wanted you, and I’ve always known that you wanted me.”

“Prove it.”

“Prove to me that I’m not disposable.”

“Do you doubt that I love you?”

“No. No. That’s exactly why. Don’t let me doubt it.”

She took his hand and placed it inside her modest neckline. She made him squeeze, though the word “made” made it sound unpleasant when in reality it was anything but. Christina wasn’t as well-endowed as Rose or even Violet, but he didn’t care. What fit in his hands was heaven; the rest was just excess.

“I wonder if you’ll be able to stay quiet so Violet doesn’t hear us.”

Christina bit her lower lip.

Was she so damned sexy on purpose, or did it just come naturally? Kissing her and groping her at his leisure, he guided her toward the bed. It hadn’t been used in years. For a moment, just for a moment, he wondered if they might end up breaking it. He quickly decided he didn’t give a damn.

Christina was riding him, impaled on his cock, with her hand over her mouth to muffle her moans, when the window shattered into a thousand pieces.

As if that wasn’t enough, he had been about to explode himself, but the mood was instantly killed.

I Am the One Who Rings Death's Bell, Part 1: END