34. Caspian

They've sent them all; my most cherished and trusted brothers and sisters. He sent them to come for me. His favorite four. His most braindead four. Their minds and will have been snuffed out eons ago. Ages ago. Centuries.

They live as one with him now. A perfect, creepy union.

They are waiting for me, standing in the hallway of that cramped, dingy motel. I can hear them. I can smell them.

But in my brain, the world is silent. I can only hear her, my frantic, terrified little fae. I hear her frantic, hurried breathing. I hear her begging in a broken, scratchy voice. I hear her plead.

"Don't leave me, Caspian! Please, don't leave…"

As if I could. As if I could ever want to leave her. As if I could ever let her leave me.

"I won't," I say to her.

I can't.

She is mine, and mine, and mine. She is mine and no one will take her from me. She is mine and no one will take me from her.

So I pull her forward and enter that dingy, cramped trap house. I once craved to visit this den of debauchery. Oh, please. I would beg him like she is now. Please, Lord Cassius, please. Let me play. Let me run. Let me away from you. Away from you…

Let me run away to the mortal realm. I will return.

I won't. I wouldn't want to return. He would make me. Compel me.

Even now, he tries to compel me. But he can't.

Because of her.

I laugh out loud as I hear him, a tiny, pathetic whispering beyond my skull. On the outside of it. He can't get in now. Can't get inside me and scrape around and issue commands.

He is shut out of me. Forever. For good.

He can never hurt me again.

And neither can they, his toys, my brethren. They stand before the desk of the motel, hands clasped, eyes glowing. Angry, red eyes.

"You have been naughty, Caspian, brother," they say in unison. "Return with us, and you may find mercy yet."

Mercy when he kisses me in repayment for the debt I still owe. Mercy when he pins me down and fucks out the retribution I still owe. Mercy still, when he locks me away and keeps me from the sister whose punishment is for my benefit.

I remember now. I am starting to remember. Cassiopea wasn't the one who sinned. I did. I ruined everything.

And she was taken to punish me.

I look at them now, these smiling, empty reflections of him. Reflections of the master I loathe and the mortal lives he's stolen away. He wouldn't come himself. No, I am not worthy of that.

But this, he can send them. Four messengers. Four protectors. Four punishers to drag me back to him.

That was their plan all along—him, them, and the fat mortal Mo. She hates me, oh yes, she does. She planned to set me up from the start.

I don't blame her.

But I will punish her—not now, because she and the other mortals are gone in hiding. They've left this building empty. Cassius plied them with more than enough silver and gold to make it empty. A perfect mouse trap sprung to catch a stupid, mousey Caspian.

But I am no longer his Caspian. I am hers…

And she needs me. She needs me. She needs me to stay. She needs me near, and so she needs me.

And I will stay for her.

I will fight them all for her.

I will kill them all for her.

Because she wills me to stay.

And I would rather die than go back.

* * *

Red robes.Bloodied walls. Gore and violence and bloodshed.

My favorite things. Such pretty things.

Such bleeding, messy things.

Oh dear, have I done a bad thing. The baddest of all, short of killing Cassius like I long to, like I crave. I have done the next best, and worst thing.

I look upon my four brothers and sisters sent to rescue me from the mortal realm. Sent to save me from my naughtiness.

I look at them. Smile at them. Let go of my fae and leave her to watch.

Watch me rip them all to pieces.

Watch me tear them all to shreds.

She's coiled up now in a corner of the hall, trembling with fear at what she's witnessed. Drenched in blood, she is. Beautiful, perfect, and mine to steal.

But I am too dirty to touch her. My hands are too red and bloodstained. Cassius' voice is a whisper. Too weak. A thready, broken whisper, beyond my reach forever.

Caspian, he hisses and rages. You have?—

What? What have I done?

I wait but he can't finish it. He doesn't finish it, his final threat.

Because I have finally snuffed him out. Poof. He is gone. He and the others are gone. Gone for good—like the make-believe I pretended until now. I had my figurative fingers in my imaginary ears before. I could hear the hum and cacophony they made but I could tune them out. Shut them out.

As long as I touched and soiled my delicious, dear, little fae one, they went silent. Quiet.

But I have sinned too greatly, and now they are gone. All gone.

All.

Gone.

Done.

Silence.

I laugh and laugh and wait. I laugh and laugh and hear no one laughing back. I eye the bloodied mess I've made. The limbs scattered at my feet.

They will heal one day, maybe. Maybe not.

But I am not in their head anymore and they are not in mine.

The world is quiet, utter bliss.

And it hurts me.

It burns me.

I laugh and laugh just to hear a sound. Something. Anything.

I laugh and laugh and laugh.

I LAUGH AND LAUGH AND LAUGH.

Nothing.

Silence alone is what greets me.

My head is empty again. Broken again. The collective is gone, I have been shut out.

I have been severed like dear Cassiopea was.

Whatever happened to her, my sister, my ally, my dear one?

She is dead and gone.

And so am I.