I stared at Cassie Cassidy.
She was a fair faced girl who looked like the kind of person you would cast as the girl next door while being too beautiful to be her. I didn’t feel any attraction to her but was observing from a strictly aesthetic point. She put a lot of effort into appearing warm and approachable, which was not typical of heiresses if television had taught me anything accurate about them. She was talking with Nancy and I wondered how much time, if any, we had left. If she’d managed to track us down, it was very likely we only had a short time before the Fraternity of Orion’s forces descended upon us.
I searched for some sign of the inherent evil to her soul with my power. It was the first time I’d ever used my ability consciously and wasn’t even sure it was possible. I expected to find the blood stains of someone who had led their friends to their doom: especially since this “Tina” person had died according to Nancy. The very fact Nancy had also died would also mean her blood was on Cassidy’s hands, even if she’d gotten better.
Instead, there was nothing. It was surprising. Well, no, nothing wasn’t quite right. There was a miasma around her, but it was unstained by blood. It was a dark, penetrating, and loathsome collection of anger swirling underneath her skin. It was the mind of a killer and someone with the hate necessary to carry out the deed but no actual blood on her hands. There were also tiny strings tied to her hands, feet, and face, though. The strings attached to her face forced a grizzly smile upon her that made her look like she’d prefer to scream. It was a horrifying image that unsettled more than any amount of blood and gore. I was glad when the image faded away.
“She’s not guilty,” I said, dryly. “Her sins are not counted to her total.”
“See, that’s what I’m talking about,” Carrie said, looking at me.
“What?” I asked.
“The creepy shit like that,” Carrie said, lowering her voice to James Earl Jones proportions. “Her sins are not counted to her total. If you say more stuff like that then you’ll sound less like my geeky big brother and more like an authentic slasher.”
“The word geek comes from the word freak or fool. In carnivals, the purpose of the geek was to shock the audience with outrageous behavior such as eating living fish or swallowing mice. They often would have ridiculous backstories like being abandoned in the woods, only to become wildmen, or being imprisoned in their parent’s attic until adulthood.”
“I don’t get it,” Carrie asked, genuinely confused.
“I’m saying that if you don’t want me to be a geek, maybe you shouldn’t try to get me to freak people out,” I replied.
“Whatever,” Carrie said. “So, we can trust her?”
“Not being a murderer and being our friend are far from the same,” I replied. “Especially since we are a pair of murderers.”
“Yes, but only of bad people! America was built on that,” Carrie said. “Hell, if we’d ever been in front of a jury then I bet we would have been given a medal. You know, it strikes me as odd that we were dumped in an asylum with no trial for a decade. Does that strike you as odd?”
“Not really,” I said. “Someone probably noticed we weren’t white on our medical records and immediately had us committed.”
“Ouch! Look at you, socially conscious,” Carrie said. “I do wonder if that was part of why our dad hated us, though.”
“The possibilities are endless,” I said, taking position out of earshot with my sister. “In any case, Cassie and Nancy seem to be talking. That’s a good sign.”
“Is it?” Carrie said. “Maybe they’re actually ex-lovers and she’s being slowly lured into a false sense of security before striking us down. Sexuality is a spectrum, you know. There was a lot of situational stuff at the asylum. I mean, not for me, I’m all into both. My first girlfriend, Angel, was misgendered and—”
“Please stop,” I replied. “Her past relationships, whatever they may be, are none of my concern.”
“They should be unless you want to end up stabbed in the back,” Carrie said. “She could totally kill you and claim you were a crazy stalker. Like three of the psychos at the asylum’s women ward recommended that as a way of escaping justice. It’s terrible and ruins it for other women.”
Nancy turned her head back and looked at us. “You know we can hear you, right?”
“Clearly not!” Carrie replied then turned to me. “So, you can count how many guards are in the fortress of doom at a glance but not tell how far a person needs to be away to avoid being overheard? Jeez. Also, that’s just awful. How can you talk about your girlfriend behind your back? Even to your sister.”
I felt my face. “Carrie—”
“That’s my name, yes,” Carrie said.
“There are no words,” I said.
Cujo came running from the van and jumped into her arms, glaring at Nancy and Cassie. He’d softened to the former but his glare at Cassie was unmistakable hatred. It was an odd sight in a dog’s eyes.
“He doesn’t like her,” Carrie whispered. “We should trust the dog.”
“Bark!” Cujo said.
“He didn’t like Nancy either,” I replied. “Or Gerald.”
“Keep that in mind,” Carrie said. “Dogs can detect evil.”
“Arf!” Cujo said.
“It trusts us,” I replied. “We’re not exactly Girl Scouts.”
“I would have joined the Girl Scouts,” Carrie replied, frowning. It was a rare moment of honesty from her. “Cookies are better than murder.”
“Agreed,” I said, thinking about the life we’d missed and never would have anything approximating.
“Guys, please come over here,” Nancy said. “It’s alright, she’s not going to bite.”
“Grrr,” Cujo said, keeping his eyes focused on Cassie.
I reluctantly walked forward as my sister followed behind. “You’ll forgive my caution but when preparing a suicidal attack against an enemy position, I tend to prefer to have the element of surprise.”
“I’m afraid you’ve lost that,” Cassie said. “My uncle Aiden already knows you’re coming. He’s told everyone to keep an eye out for you and has offered a reward to whatever agents find you first.”
“Ironic,” I said, realizing that we might have gained an advantage by being revealed. We’d also been exposed. “How did you find us?”
Cassie lifted a small clipping of hair wrapped in a bow. “This is from our sorority scrapbook. It means I can track any of us.”
Nancy grabbed it from her hands and pulled out a cigarette lighter before setting it on fire. “I hate magic.”
“It’s useful when you’re the one who has it,” Carrie said, staring at Cassie. “Why are we not stabbing her?”
“She wants to help,” Nancy said. “Cassie says she can lead us to a secret entrance in the back that won’t be guarded. We can hit the compound without issue.”
“This sounds suspiciously like the plot to Return of the Jedi,” I replied. “It was a trap there too.”
Hopefully, there would be less teddy bears here. If they ever did sequels, I hoped they understood the secret to the movies was not being too silly and relying on special effects instead of strong character writing. I’d heard they’d done a prequel and figured that since it was written by George Lucas, he’d keep these principles in mind.
“It’s not a trap,” Nancy said. “If it was, we’d already be dead.”
“That’s what someone setting a trap would want us to think,” Carrie said, nodding. “Which I know that you know that she knows.”
“Carrie, are you on drugs?” Nancy asked, sighing.
“Nope, just crazy,” Carrie said. “Though doctors don’t like to use that term anymore. Unfortunately, there’s not really a term for hearing voices from eldritch horrors from beyond time and space. I mean, homicidal paranoid schizophrenia only goes so far.”
Cassie looked at Nancy. “Real bunch of winners you’ve got here. I can see you’ve assembled a crack team of America’s best.”
“You are very rude!” Gerald called from inside his bag, still in the van.
“They’ve saved my life multiple times,” Nancy said, not looking at Cassie. “I trust them with my life.”
“Which means you’re as crazy as the rest of us,” Carrie said before pointing at Cassie. “But as crazy as I am, isn’t she one of the bad guys? Badder guys? Worst guys?”
Cassie frowned. “I never in my wildest dreams knew my father and uncle would attempt to kidnap my friends for one of their sick rituals. I’m not marrying my fiancé of my own free will, it’s part of their plan to unite two of the wealthiest families in America. The Cassidys and the Hawthornes will join on the eve of fixing the US Presidential election.”
“Our cousin is going to win, right?” Carrie asked. “Please say yes.”
Cassie blinked. “I’m under several geas to assist them in all of this but the only reason I haven’t had my brain entirely screwed with is they’ve let their guard down with me. You have no idea what it’s like to have family who want to literally control your mind. Family that you’re nothing more than a possession of.”
“Yes, we have no idea what that’s like,” I said, believing some of her story but not all of it. “You look familiar.”
“I’ve been on TV a lot,” Cassie said. “Believe me, I’d rather not be. Apparently, playing the role of an American princess is part of their role for me.”
That wasn’t where I’d seen her before. I’d seen her at H.P. Lovecraft’s Memorial Hospital, dressed as a nurse and talking with the doctors there, particularly the director. She wasn’t part of the staff but disguised as one for the meetings. I had no idea why a billionaire’s daughter would be in one of the most criminally abusive institutions in the world, but I was certain of it now.
A part of me wanted to confront her with her lie but I, instead, kept the information to myself. It would be more useful to hide it and let her think she had me fooled. The thing was that Nancy had a right to know and she was clearly giving her friend the benefit of the doubt. Why, though? Maybe it was something I would have understood better if I’d had friends other than Wilson.
“Alright?” I asked, pretending to believe her. “How did you slip your bonds?”
Cassie crossed her arms and looked at the ground. “It wasn’t easy. The Cassidy family has numerous pacts with the Red Gods, dating back to Celtic times. They have to be renewed between Samhain and the Winter Solstice with a tithe to Hell. I think when Nancy was sacrificed but came back to life, it disrupted their magic enough that I was able to regain most of my free will. Accent on most.”
“What’s most of your free will?” I asked. “I feel like that’s not something you can put a qualifier on. You either have it or you don’t.”
“William!” Nancy said.
I didn’t take back my question and waited for her response.
“If I had all of my free will back, I’d have stabbed my father to death and set my uncle on fire before unleashing a horde of zombies on the compound,” Cassie said.
Nancy blinked. “Okay, that’s a bit darker than I expected.”
“Why?” Cassie asked.
Okay, I was starting to like this woman. Not like-like but perhaps entertained by enough to give her the benefit of the doubt. “Can you do that?”
“I’ve always loved necromancy,” Cassie said. “I got a degree in hematology and business both while studying it on the side. The trick is to make the best deal possible for the least amount of your soul.”
“Aroo?” Cujo asked.
“So, what can you do?” I asked, feeling like I was repeating a conversation Nancy had just had minutes before.
Cassie closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I can lead you to the others. All of the prisoners, through the escape tunnel.”
“Escape tunnel,” I said, not believing what she was saying.
“The idiots who designed the Fraternity’s lair made an exit for their guests to flee out of during an emergency,” Cassie said. “They didn’t think that a tunnel used to get out could be used to get in. At least for slashers. I can open the doors and show you the entrance. From there, it’s a smooth ride straight to the dungeon. As long as I don’t, myself, try to rescue the prisoners then I’m not violating the letter of my oath.”
“This seems pretty violating,” Nancy said. “Are you sure you’re not leading us into a trap.”
Cassie frowned. “Believe me, I have my reasons for doing what I’m doing.”
“Rescuing your friends?” I asked.
“Revenge,” Cassie said, looking at Carrie. “I want you to kill my father and uncle in exchange for my help. Can you help me with that?”
“Cassie!” Nancy said, sounding shocked.
“Well, now I believe her,” Carrie replied. “And sure! Killing old guys is easy!”
“Oof,” Cujo said, covering his face with his paw.
“You need to believe me,” Cassie looked into my eyes. “Really.”
A strange aura radiated out from her and I felt magic being used. However, the effects seemed minimal other than making her look a bit more “sparkly” for lack of a better word. It confused me rather than affected my feelings.
It’s a fairy glamour, the Spirit of the Hunt said. It makes subjects more attractive and individuals more inclined to do what they say. You’re immune, though. It requires a base level of desire or submissiveness to work.
Is it being used on Nancy? I asked.
That would be telling, the Spirit of the Hunt said. Remember, I’m not your friend. I’m more the director of the movie you co-star in.
Believe me, I’m unlikely to forget, I replied.
“We have to help her!” Carrie said, making me think the glamour had worked on her as well. “This mysterious femme fatale who is not suspicious at all!”
Or maybe not.
Nancy stepped between Cassie and me. “Listen, I know this is hard to believe—”
“You think?” I interrupted.
Nancy frowned. “But I believe her. Cassie was a friend to me when I didn’t have any others in the world. She was the first real sister I’d had, which says a lot about my relationship with Summer. Cassie helped fund our sorority and assemble it. She’s the one who made it a place where women could defend themselves. She wouldn’t have done that if she wasn’t trying to help us.”
Unless, of course, she was trying to raise a bunch of sacrifices for her father’s weird murder cult. The presence of two Artemises and a group of women trained in combat seemed to imply that it required someone who could fight back, even if they were hopelessly outnumbered. It was also possible, even if she was an innocent, to be unable to disobey her uncle’s commands. Finally, even if that wasn’t the case, a big if, there was also the fact that any sane security force would have such a big weakness as an escape tunnel heavily guarded. Certainly, it would be monitored beyond merely a locked door or two. I felt I should bring up all these objections but, instead, I said, “Alright, we’ll go with your plan.”
“Thank you,” Cassie said, beaming brightly. “You won’t regret it.”
“Of course,” I said, already regretting it.
Why am I doing this? I asked the Spirit of the Hunt.
It’s more fun this way, the Spirit of the Hunt replied. Practicality often gets in the way of a good slaughter.
I decided to get my brain warded against her interference.
I heard that, the Spirit of the Hunt said.
Before I could say more, a highway patrol car pulled up behind Cassie’s hot pink Ferrari. Two officers stepped out, both drawing their guns. They were ordinary but athletic looking men but they seemed unusually well-prepared for someone who’d randomly come across two escaped mental patients as well as an heiress.
“Stand right where you are!” one of them said.
“Don’t move or I’ll shoot,” The second said.
Not very original, were they? I sensed the blood on the hands of both, though. Not much but enough to know they were very dirty cops and had turned a blind eye to the disappearance of hitchhikers, transients, and even the occasional minority. They feared their current employer, and only this combined with ample payoffs kept them from calling the Feds.
That was when Cassie turned around. I saw a Zeus-75 handgun in her back pocket. Basically, a Pantheon Corp made Desert Eagle knock off. “Don’t worry, I’ll handle this.”
“Wait—” Nancy started to say.
“Gentleman, everything is fine!” Cassie said, immediately pulling her gun and shooting both in the head.
“What the frick!” Nancy shouted, having returned to no longer swearing. “What the heck, Cassie?”
Cassie walked to the back of the police cruiser and opened the door, pulling out a pair of animal masks. A fox and a rabbit. “These were cultists of the Fraternity. Paid soldiers. I told you they were looking for you.”
“Oh,” Nancy said. “I see.”
“Well, I trust you now,” Cassie said. “This time for real. Murder is a great way to bond with a new group.”
Nancy glared at her.
“What?” Cassie asked. “It’s how you did with us.”
Nancy didn’t look happy about that comparison.
I knew, looking at Cassie’s soul, that she’d arranged this demonstration so we would trust her. Cassie was a now a murderer and a very dangerous enemy. But for us or the Fraternity?
“There’s a pig farm nearby where we can dump the bodies,” Cassie said. “The owners accept cash and I have plenty. We’ve got only a little daylight left. The other slashers come at night.”
“Jesus,” Nancy muttered. Apparently, unlike other swears, that counted as a prayer.
“Has nothing to do with this,” Cassie said.
On that, we agreed.