12. HOME AGAIN

12

HOME AGAIN

THE STRANGLER

I leaned against the seat as the train began to move. The sound of chatter felt like nails down a blackboard. It made my teeth and head hurt.

The woman from the seat behind me was telling her husband about a mole that looked like cancer.

Their relentless jabbering, the laughter, the mundane conversations—it grated on my skin like a vicious itch. I wanted to peel my skin away, to make it stop, to make everything stop.

The sound grew until all I heard was a cacophony of noise around me—a tall wall, unbreachable by silence.

How I wished I could shut them all up!

My finger mindlessly crawled up and down the misted window, drawing a twisting snake, trying to collect myself. I couldn’t lose it here.

I couldn’t stop them from chattering, but I could not listen to them. I knew what would always bring me peace. Grabbing my phone, I started Yara’s podcast.

Her voice always brought me a sense of comfort. Familiar, and yet strange. It helped me escape the abyss slowly forming inside me. She had always been the light in a dark tunnel.

Behind her masks, in the comfort of anonymity, she remained confident in her world, in her words.

I burned to tear away her masks. To let the world revel in something marvelous, something grand.

This dead world deserves someone glorious like her.

“I can’t wait to see you again,” I murmured, tapping my fingers against the window.

I would liberate her from her secrets. This shallow existence would then gladly bathe in her glory and drink her blood to come alive from death.

My love deserves K.Y. Wolff’s soul. My love demands Yara’s soul.

Her haunting voice filled my head, and her broken whisper tugged something deeper within me. It always did. She was the only one who could make me feel, who could break me. The only one who could comfort me, too.

How could she not know that the letters were for her? Always for her. Only for her!

“Let me tell you a story. She was beaten until the pain was only a distant echo. She lost everything that made her HER. And then there was only a pit inside her heart. All she hoped was to live in the light, away from the crippling darkness, and to heal in the sunshine, but the animal was relentless.”

I grinned, running my fingers through my hair. I could feel the brisk wind against my cheek, and it felt like Yara’s breath.

Oh, how I enjoyed her storytelling.

She was a master weaver of tales. I rubbed my hands together and pressed my chin against the cold window of the Amtrak Wolverine, bringing me back home. Toledo was a layover. Baltimore was a layover. Everything else was fleeting.

Detroit was home. It had always been.

My home was where Yara was. I couldn’t wait to look at her, to live her days with her.

The sound from the outside world ceased to exist. I was blissfully alone. Just me and her. Her and me.

“Always chasing and hunting. She became familiar with the scent of blood, and something woke in her. Something bitter, and bloodthirsty. She tried so hard to hide, but the seams were shattered, and the demons emerged, clamoring for blood.”

“I’m coming home for you, Yara, and this time… I’ll find you, and you will see me. You’ll finally see me and love me.”