“No and no.”

Cora doesn’t look convinced, but she begins to peel away the paper, corner by corner, with careful fingers. When she pulls the top off the little white box, her breath catches as she stares down into the cotton stuffing. She’s staring at the gift inside, but I’m staring at her. I’m watching the emotions climb up her chest, then her neck, landing in her throat and releasing with a squeaky sigh. Her red-tipped fingers graze the heart pendant attached to a gold chain.

“It’s beautiful, Dean. It’s… too much.” Cora glances up at me with misted eyes, then looks back down at the necklace. She removes it from the box, letting the delicate chain dance over her fingers as she holds it up and gazes at the gilded heart.

“Open it. It’s a locket.”

Cora blinks, surprised. I can see her fingers tremble as she unclasps the two pieces of gold and fixes her eyes to the inner contents.

Still Beating.

She doesn’t say anything. I wonder if maybe she doesn’t understand, so I start to explain. “I was thinking you can wear it over your heart as a constant reminder of everything you survived. As long as it’s still beating, you’re okay.”

She is still silent.

I’m starting to doubt the gift, thinking maybe it is too much. Maybe it’s too personal. Too triggering.

But then Cora throws herself into my lap, her arms around my neck, and I feel her tears slip underneath my shirt collar. “Thank you,” she whispers in a ragged breath. “It’s perfect.”

The necklace remains clutched in a tight fist as her tears continue to fall, hard and relentless, wracking her body with everything she tries so hard to keep inside.

She doesn’t need to pretend with me, though. She doesn’t need to hide.

I’m here, and I see her—every scar, every flaw, every broken, hollow piece.

And I understand.

Blood. Blood everywhere.

So much goddamn blood.

I feel it spatter my skin and I taste it in my mouth, but I keep going. Flying fists, cracking skull, brain matter. Dreadful, painful moans… death.

He needs to pay for what he did to her. He needs to die. I promised I would snuff his worthless life away for touching her, and that’s exactly what I’m doing.

No remorse. No going back.

It’s over.

I think I hear her voice, far away, calling for me to come back to her.

“Stop. He’s dead.”

Cora breaks through and reality sinks its teeth into me as I stare down at the grisly crime I’ve just committed. Dear God, it’s like something out of a horror film.

A fitting end to a gruesome tale.

I did this. I fucking did this. I murdered a man in cold blood with nothing but my tattered, dirty knuckles.

The motherfucker deserved it.

I’m about to jump back, get as far away from this bloodbath as I can, but then his eyes fly open. Terrifying white eyes with irises so black, so barbaric, they almost skin me alive. Earl lifts himself up on his haunches, his wide, bulbous eyes sunken into mangled flesh.