The room fell to silence as Judas shut the door behind him, a dull hum appearing seemingly from nowhere, like an old TV being left on in a quiet room. Beau looked surprised to see him there at first before he nervously glanced at Ana. Judas smiled and gestured to the room.

“Leaving so soon? I just got here, and it looked like you two were in the middle of a spell.” He commented, his eyes glancing down to her bookbag.

Ana hadn’t bothered to clean Beau’s blood from the bowl, and it now leaked from the corner of her bag. She didn’t reply to him, and that seemed to bother him. She glanced down and realized she had forgotten about the stone slab, and bent down to quickly retrieve it. Judas set his foot down on it, preventing her from taking it.

“Tell, me something, Ana—” He bent his knees until he was eye level with her. “What has your daddy told you about that night in the basement, hm?”

“Judas, stop.” Beau warned.

The younger brother raised a pale hand in the air. “Wait a moment. Hasn’t your little deal been complete? You know where mommy is now.”

Was it complete? Beau and Ana exchanged looks. The answer they received from the spell was incredibly vague at best, and they only had a small theory about her whereabouts but it was nothing to go off of.

Ana stood, ripping the slab out from under his foot and stuffing it into her bag. “I’ll look for more spells tonight. Maybe I misread the one we used.”

Beau nodded, but Judas didn’t seem satisfied. He appeared annoyed with her answer, as if it wasn’t the one he was looking for. He drew his mouth into a thin line and narrowed his eyes at her.

“All this time, and you’ve never questioned once what your father has said? But suddenly Beau appears and you actually think for once,” He murmurs.

Ana pulled her shoulders back. “I don’t need to explain my reasoning to you.”

She made a move to the door, but he quickly blocked her way. He was an inch shorter than her, only a slight improvement from when they were in high school. Ana looked down at him, glaring at his peridot eyes.

“I don’t know why you don’t have any memory of what happened, but it seems awfully convenient, doesn’t it? No memory, so it’s easy to blame us for what happened. Why don’t I just say it right here and now who caused all that pain and trouble?” Judas murmured.

Ana leaned in. “I have nightmares of somebody chasing me through the woods. A dark monster, set on dragging me into the ground, into that basement. You tell me whose fault it is, hm?”

Judas laughed. She wasn’t expecting him to laugh. She was expecting him to shut up and get away from her, but he didn’t.

“Maybe you should lay off the binge-drinking, hm? Too much whiskey at night?” He replied, smiling.

Ana searched his eyes, confused. How did he…? She looked over at Beau, who quickly glanced away from her with an ashamed look. Bastard.

She pushed past Judas and went to the door. She pulled the handle open, but Judas slammed it shut with his hand, trapping her inside. Her heart started to beat faster and she felt her hands quiver with anxiety. Trapped. I can’t be trapped again with the Motloes. Not again.

“The entire time Beau and I have been healing from our injuries that your father inflicted on us, you have been living a normal life without any care for what happened. Not a single scratch on you while we suffered for six damn years. You’re a coward, Ana Kravens. Always have been. Can’t stop being afraid of your father for one second to see the pile of lies he has built his throne on.” Judas seethed, his green eyes twinkling with gold and blue flecks in the morning light.

“Let me out! I don’t give a shit about what you say!” Ana raged, trying her best to control her breathing while still trying to hide her fear. Her hands balled into fists at her side, her shoulder pushed up against the wall to get as far away from Judas while still being close to the door. She suddenly felt cold, the only warmth she could feel was from the morning light hitting the back of her neck, a painful reminder that she was in a confined space with her least favorite people in the world. It’s going to happen again. You’re an idiot. Idiot!

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Judas, that’s enough—” Beau was close to them now. He tried to grab Judas’ arm to pull him away but Judas smacked his hand. The close proximity to them only made her feel worse and constricted her breathing. She grinded her teeth together as she tried her best to control her breathing. The strange hum was beginning to grow more intense, and Ana was starting to believe she was imagining it amidst her panic.

Control yourself. Just breathe, she told herself. She took a deep breath in, and then out before looking at Judas, who was arguing with Beau. How to hurt him? She thought. What’s the best way to pierce through that rotten heart of his? What has been eating away at him all these years?

“You ever wonder if you’ve ever taken things too far?” She murmured, her voice shaky but confident. He stared at her now, his argument with Beau forgotten. “I mean, at some point you must’ve thought if you hadn’t murdered Ophelia, we wouldn’t be here. Don’t you ever think about that?”

He was silent now. Good. That’s how Ana wanted him in the first place. No filthy words coming out of his mouth. He stared at her, as if trying desperately to think of a sly comeback to win an upper-hand, but he couldn’t. He was lost for words because he knew she was right. Eventually, he moved his hand away from the door and let Beau pull him away from her.

She wretched the door open and exited the suffocating room. She slammed it shut behind her and walked to the rusty iron rails. She swallowed lungfuls of air, trying to calm her beating heart that kept on telling her that she was in danger. I’m fine, she thought. There’s nothing wrong. I’m safe.

She hated Judas for cornering her like that, and she hated Beau for letting him stay in the same room as him. She hated him even more for telling Judas about her binge-drinking. What was the point of Judas being here? His only mission seemed to be to antagonize Ana as much as possible. She made Beau promise that he wouldn’t be near her while they worked on the spells, but she knew there was no guarantee of how long he would be away from the motel room. He wasn’t to blame for Judas suddenly appearing at the worst time.

She sighed. No use lurking outside their room. With the book bag over her shoulder and the grimoire clutched to her chest, she headed toward the stairway to leave the dingy motel.

—_—

The drive home was torturous. She tried her best to not have an anxiety attack in the motel room, but that effort now left her feeling drained of any energy. She hadn’t had one that bad in a good year or two, and she knew if she told somebody like her mom or Logan, they would insist on her seeing her therapist again, but she didn’t have time for that. The deal with Beau was still unfinished, and she started her new job as a cashier on Monday. She was now regretting her decision to take that job.

Despite never admitting it out loud, Judas had given her an inkling. She knew Marchosias was lying, but how much had he lied about? Were there lies even before the incident? He was an unreadable man, which meant she would get no answers from him. The next best answer would be to call her mother, but she had already called her a few days ago, and if she called her again she might run the risk of her telling Marchosias that she was digging. Not out of malicious intent, but out of concern for her mental well-being. Ana didn’t need him suspicious right now. She was lucky enough that he was a neglectful father instead of a protective one. Although, her mother did sound quite vague the last she had asked the questions, but could’ve just been because it was during her night shift and she was tired already. If she called her again, perhaps she could get more answers.

As she turned into the long road that lead to her home, she decided to call her mother. If she told Marchosias that she was asking about the Motloes, then that was a risk she was willing to take. She had to pry her mother’s brain for answers again.

She dialed her mom as she kept her eyes on the road, the trees hugging a little too close to the road for comfort. This road was always hell to use in the winter.

“Ana-Girl!”

“Hey momma.”

“How are you doing? Sorry, I just woke up. Haven’t had my coffee yet, but—oh! You were going to tell me about that date you had yesterday. How did it go? Is there another date being planned?” Her mother’s voice sounded excited, but Ana did not share her excitement. She thought about last night, how Deacon had grabbed her chin and tried to convince her to let him in. She winced, and instead focused her eyes on the road instead of her own thoughts.

“No, ah….there isn’t going to be another one. He was a bust.” Ana replied.

“Oh…that’s a shame. Oh well.” Her mother was audibly disappointed in the revelation, and Ana felt bad. Ana never had a real partner after Ophelia’s death, and her going on this date must’ve been a sign to her mother that she was doing better. She shook the feeling off, and opened her mouth to ask the question she had called her for.

“Can you—”

“Maybe it’s for the best, you know? Seeing as how your father is…” Her mother murmured, sounding distant.

“I…yes.” Ana knew she was right. Marchosias didn’t know about Deacon, and never will. If she was able, she wouldn’t let him know of any partners she ever had. It was the reason why the concept of having her own family was a pure fantasy to her. She had a hard time imagining Marchosias as a father-in-law, let alone a grandfather.

“Momma,” She turned into her driveway, holding the phone with her shoulder pressed against her ear. “Can you tell me anything else about that night? You were…a little vague last time.”

“…Have you been doing more thinking?”

She winced. “Maybe?”

Her mother sighed. “Ana, maybe it’s best you ask your father about this.”

“No.” She slowed the vehicle until it stopped and shifted it into park. “You know how cagey he is. He doesn’t like answering questions, he acts like it’s a chore.”

“Fine.” Her mother shuffled the phone, and Ana heard a sink being turned on. “It was late at night, and I thought you had gone to a friend’s house, but I was wrong. I saw the cop cars and sirens across the street, so I went outside to see what was wrong. The Motloe house was on fire, and I didn’t realize you were in there until your father pulled you out. He sent you to the hospital just before using his magic to make the cops and paramedics believe that they didn’t see any of us there, but the news still was able to report it for a night before your father took it down. He checked the basement again before he took me to the hospital to see you and…” There was more shuffling, and possibly breathing in or muffled sobbing. Ana couldn’t tell. “That’s it.”

“Momma…” This didn’t make sense. Ana felt an intense headache come on, like the ones she had after the incident. “Momma, why is this different from the last time—”

Sniffling, and a gasp of air, as if she was trying not to cry. “I have to go, Ana-Girl. I love you lots, okay?”

The call ended. Ana stared down at her phone, confused. Momma?