Chapter 20: I Am The God of Hellfire, Part 20

He slept peacefully, dreaming of the ocean.

Before giving the explanation to Satan, he had gone out like everyone else to see what the hell was happening.

Well, that's it, so as not to stand out. Even Rose, who seemed to hate the attention she received, covered his eyes and asked him to leave, to go back to bed.

So he did and slept like a baby.

He should have imagined that the next morning wouldn't be so pleasant. To begin with, at least, someone burst into the sanctuary of his room with a bang. Someone who evidently had the position to go around this mansion slamming doors without worrying about the consequences, which there would be even for annoying a child like him. So he imagined it before seeing her.

There weren't many options.

"Oh. Good morning, mother. What are you doing here so early?" Sam took the risk of speaking casually with her, knowing that given the circumstances he could justify the slip (if it was one) by saying forgive me, I'm still more asleep than awake.

Mary had a strange expression on her face, as if it was the first time in years she had seen him. And as if she couldn't care less.

She hadn't been so expressive at the funeral.

To be fair, there had been one funeral after another, it had been endless. And very soon there would be two more.

"Well, what can I say," Mary said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Come to see my son, see how he is, what else, Sammy?"

Sam frowned for a tenth of a second. He didn't like that, but he would have to tolerate it.

There were two possibilities. The other Sam liked his mother calling him that way and insisting otherwise wouldn't exactly raise suspicions, but it would seem strange to her, and he didn't like it anyway.

The other possibility was that the other Sam didn't like it either, but since it was his mother he had no choice.

In any case, he decided that the best thing was to shut the fuck up.

"So many tragedies are happening lately that I can't help but worry." She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, sitting there on the bed, with her hands on the edges. For some reason she was blushing. "After what happened to Ivor, you know, Violet convinced me to leave you alone, that was the best thing..."

Ah, that's why it took her so long to come see me, he thought.

Sam tensed slightly. There were many things he wished he knew or could remember, even if it was behind the filter of a different person's consciousness. One of the few things he knew for certain, although he did what he could to increase the list, was that Violet loved him.

In that case, why would she try to keep his mother away from him after what she perceived as him almost being murdered?

There had to be a reason. Jumping to the worst motives would be as stupid as assuming there was nothing. It could be something as innocent as her being an overprotective mother, like most mothers, and not wanting her to overwhelm him. It could be, yes, although that would probably be sinning on the optimistic side. He would be attentive, trying to figure it out subtly.

"But I needed to come see you," Mary finished at last. "You're my son, after all. Come here."

Sam approached, allowing her to hug him. Then, thinking better of it, he forced himself to return the hug. It's not that he had had such a bad life that he wasn't used to a mother's hug, but this woman wasn't his mother. Anyway, he had to play his part. Anything was more important than the life he had left behind. He had died and all that had disappeared, and that's how it should stay.

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A part of him missed it sometimes, but well...

That part of him was a dead man.

Obviously they were the same person, but there was no need to waste more time on that.

"First Evelyn, then that madman tries to kill you and blame you, and now this." Mary shook her head. "I can't imagine what you're going through. You liked her, didn't you? Knowing that her father..."

She realized she had messed up and looked away.

"Yes, it's not... pleasant, of course." Sam took a deep breath. More carefully chosen words, his mind working at a thousand miles an hour. These were the worst parts of his new life. The ones he wasn't good at. Well, not exactly. So far he had avoided messing up completely, so clearly it was enough. But he didn't enjoy it, so it drained his energy pretty quickly, compared to everything else. "But there's nothing I can do now. Not for her or for her mother."

Mary slowly broke the hug.

"I don't know if that's very mature of you or just worrying. Anyway, don't forget that I'm your mother, Sammy, and I'm here for you. No matter what." She put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing.

Sam received a flash of inspiration.

"Because I’m the favorite?"

"Because you're my son," she replied without thinking twice, and gave him a kiss on the forehead.

"It's true. I know you're on my side, I'm sorry."

Mary sighed.

"Yeah. Your father, well, your father has turned out like your grandfather. Sometimes I wonder if he's human."

If you knew you were talking to a real inhuman being, he thought. A real killer without scruples.

He hadn't gotten much with that calculated response, but the mention of the grandfather was interesting. When he had some free time he would try to find information about him.

"Anyway, I'll leave you alone, Sammy, you just woke up and I'm already bothering you." Despite what she had just said, she put a hand on his head and ruffled his hair. He didn't like anyone touching his hair. He couldn't contain a grimace of disgust, although he erased it after a few seconds.

"You never bother me, mom."

Mary smiled.

"You're very kind."

He didn't know how to take that, so he said nothing, just in case. The woman left the room, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Although not for long. Sam got dressed, preparing for the day and went out too. He didn't have a goal, but he had ideas and a fervent desire to kill. During the family conference everything else was put on hold. That's why no one had bothered him to attend class, sessions with private tutors, or whatever.

So those his age could sit around doing nothing, just waiting, having fun for a change.

But he had a mission.

And a time limit, it was obvious. For some reason Satan hadn't told him directly, hadn't pushed him to hurry, but you didn't need to be a genius to realize that this period of time, starting with his birthday, was perfect for massacring the Wright family. The only time of the year when everyone was gathered.

Satan wasn't pressuring him to do something that should be advantageous to him. The most logical and simple answer is that somehow it wasn't advantageous, actually.

Sam needed the power that awakened with the murders to fulfill his dreams, to rise up. And maybe that was the problem. Satan didn't want him to become too strong.

But he wasn't going to do what he wanted, he wouldn't be his damn toy.

Even if it had to be a self-imposed time limit, the Wright family would be dead by the time the family conference ended.

For the sake of his future, his new life, he would achieve it.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" He didn't recognize that person's voice. The Wright family was too big. In any case, it was worth taking a look.

He followed the voice and grabbed the balcony railing, leaning forward.

The man was standing at the entrance, dressed in black from head to toe, including a trench coat. At the very least none of the men and women present in the lobby recognized him.

In any case, it was a nuisance. Strangers shouldn't interfere in this. It would only complicate things.

"I was hired by the master of this mansion," the stranger said.

Someone asked him for what. What an idiot, it should be obvious at this point, with everything that had happened in a few days. Sam wasn't worried. While it was true that he hadn't expected this to happen so soon, it was evident that sooner or later it would occur. There was no point in complaining about what he couldn't control, anyway.

The only thing he could do was get rid of the problem as soon as possible.

Sam descended to the landing in the middle of the staircase.

"Hello, detective," Sam greeted him, smiling like a little angel, the sunlight filtering through the stained glass window behind him framing his silhouette.

The detective raised his head to look him in the eyes. He took off his hat, resting it against his chest with one hand. His smile was fake, completely forced. Well, what a snake.

"Well, at least there's someone who's glad I'm here."

I Am The God of Hellfire, Part 20: END