Chapter 38

The sacrificial room was warmer than McKenzie remembered, her breath left in sharp exhalations as she steeled herself for the terror that awaited her. Behind them the door swooshed closed, and he gently pushed her forward. They stopped beneath the chalk drawing of the ‘ultimate sacrifice’. When she spun to face him she realized that they were all alone, in the big space filled with jars of odd collections of what looked like human parts. She swallowed forcing herself to pull back her instinct to run, kill him or both. In her palm she could still feel the tiny tracker button, her last hope at getting a confession. She didn’t know if she’d live past the next few minutes, and all that brought her peace was knowing she’d leave behind a way to stop him and the legacy of The Devil’s Breath Killer.

‘The King’ stepped closer to her, his face stoic and all angles beneath the hazy blue light. His hands were shaking, perhaps with excitement Makayla thought. When he moved closer she stopped him by pushing her empty palm out, her stomach churning in hopes the audio of the tracker was working.

“Before I make this sacrifice,” She cleared her throat, watching him carefully. “I need a name.” her eyes rigid on his.

She saw a flicker of something behind his hardened dark glare before he finally gave her a name. “Delgado.”

She nodded and took a step back. “Delgado,” she said with emphasis, “what is the meaning behind all of this? I need to know so that I can be at peace when I leave this place.”

He shook his head. “You give me something, I give you something.” His eyes darted to the tray of his tools shimmering beneath the glow of the golden lanterns mounted along the walls.

“Your fears,” he asked pulling forward a tray covered with a blue velvet cloth.

“That the killer gets away,” she confessed honestly.

He grinned as he unveiled what appeared to be gut neatly laid out on a silver tray.

“Valmer.” She asked him, a shiver running over her thighs.

“He gave me a home and in return for his kindness, I gave him strength beyond his imagination.” His eyes met hers.

Makayla spoke clearly. “You mean you showed him this ritual.”

He nodded. “Indeed.”

“What about…?”

His eyes shot to hers as he took a deep calming breath. “My turn, mi amor.” His face shifted to that of something even more sinister, like he was the devil and this was his heaven. “Tell me a secret you have never told anyone.”

Makayla’s stomach churned, if the audio worked, this could damage her career—if she got out alive. But he’d know if she lied, he was good at reading people, this much she’d observed. But what was losing your job over saving the world from this evil? Her hand with the tracker shook involuntarily. “I killed someone when I could have just stopped him in other ways.” The biggest regret of her life. The memory let a bitter taste in her mouth.

“His name was Bruno. And he was my friend,” he replied, his demeanor remained calm, despite the hate radiating from behind his obsidian eyes.

Makayla listened, taken aback.

“I stood by and watched you kill my Bruno.” Slowly he stalked over to his tray of tools, “after you had arrested him.” His fingers grazed the sharp silver blades. “He wanted to get better, but you never gave him that chance.” He snatched up a scalpel looking thing.

“He was scum, a rapist, a murder…” he interjected, her eyes flickering between the blade and his expression.

His eyes were cold on hers. “I admired you in a way; you were fearless in your pursuit of Bruno. You sacrificed for greater things. I wanted to be just like you.” He looked down at his tools again. “Now I can be.”

She swallowed against the memory. “Delgado,” she said, which she noticed struck a nerve, “What about your other stuff, like the organ trafficking, does it not interfere with what you’re trying to achieve with these rituals, which I’m assuming are for enlightenment.” Her eyes flickered to the chalk drawing that took up the bulk of the wall beside her, of the girl ascending into a heaven of flowers.

He answered, like he was trying to convert her. “Enlightenment is for you, the souls I consume are for me. By eating your heart, I gain your spirit, to advance my strength. You live on with the others.”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

His eyes fell to the tray before him once more as he placed the scalpel down and picked up the gut string between his fingers. “That organ trafficking business is not for me, it is for someone else so I may continue my work.” He almost seemed ashamed of it.

“It’s not what you want…?”

When he looked back up, his face was fixed to give away no emotion, but his eyes brimmed with anger and bitterness. “It is time. Our games have come to an end.”

“You are protecting someone.” She continued, desperate to keep him talking.

Ignoring her he rolled the trolley over to her.

She knew she didn’t get what she needed, but she had enough for now. She tilted her head, her eyes on his, fearless, brave, and stronger than her pain as he moved in closer to her. When he bent down before her, she noticed scars across his shoulder blades. Thick and long, like the kind whips leave behind. Coming back up he held a rope made of thin steel before her. He called her closer. She stood bare foot, and blue dress with her crown of Devil’s Breath flowers looking like a goddess beneath the glimmer of blue lights. For a fleeting moment she thought she saw a glimpse of remorse in his eyes. The King hooked a belt around her middle, then he tied the strings of gut that strangely had a silky feel to them, onto her wrists. He took a scalpel from the tray and sliced her dress off. It fell like mist to the cloud of white flowers at her feet. In the background she could hear the steady beep of a heartbeat.

From beside her, he wheeled a mechanical arm on stilts. He hooked her belt onto the silver hooks of the arm, lifting her steadily and slowly as he watched her from below.

“A request?” he asked.

“Give the girl’s one more sunset after my sacrifice so my soul may rest in peace knowing I gave them one more day.”

“Or what?” he sneered.

“I will fight you, ruin this beautiful altar, and bring you down.”

He thought for a moment. “How will you bring me down? No one knows, nor cares where you are, or they be here already. That what makes you so strong, your solitude from needing others.”

“You think I wasn’t trained in the art of escape.” She gave a wicked grin. “I can ruin this entire room in seconds and kill you with your own tools.

His eyes had a smile to it when he said. “You will make me strong, so for this I will grant you your request.”

“Tell me who is making you do those things to those girls.”

When he gave nothing, she said. “Someone you look up to? It’s not Valmer, he’s dead.” She kept still for a moment as the mechanical arm came to a stop, her dangling feet swaying back and forth.

“Your father. You need to win his approval, or are you preparing to get enough strength to take him down. Ruin him for abandoning you as a child.”

“Enough.” He sneered.

This might as well have been a confession she thought. She wiggled as the belt dug into her hips, the gut itching at the skin on her wrists.

“I want to hear you give them the command. You promised me a request.”

As he walked over to his cellphone, she coughed and threw the tracker on the floor where it rolled beneath one of the tables.

After giving the command to his people, which she knew was a ruse. She’d seen the elaborate setup for the reaping of those girl’s organs. She was too clever to dismiss the fact that time was money to them all.

“It’s done.” He said and slowly Delgado rolled a set of metal stairs toward her suspended body, he took up the rest of the string and started to weave it in her hair, then pinned her hair to the wall. As he moved, she smelt pool water and aftershave on him. He tied more gut around her wrists, around some of her fingers and pulled on them until her arms were raised. He tied them to silver hooks to suspend her hair and arms like a puppet.

His face took in hers. “This will hurt, mi amor. But without pain you cannot find rapture.”

A tear rolled down her face, in fear of the impending pain but also because Aaron had not found her yet—and that might mean they’d never rescue the girls. As the scalpel came closer, she closed her eyes and asked God for forgiveness, mercy, and less pain. Thunder shook at the walls and for one moment, she thought God himself was coming to fetch her. But then she saw the panic on his face, and the sound of gunshots going off in the distance that rattled him and elated her.

“How did they find me?” He looked up at her with disgust and betrayal.

Full of rage, he took the blade and stabbed her in the heart. It was so sharp that she barely felt it at first. She smiled down on him, not fully realizing what he had done, and then the pain came and she cried out. The sound of the helicopter was right above them and girls were screaming from down the hall. Voices shouted in protest, becoming murky as if Makayla was beneath the surface of water. She gave a deep painfully sharp breath before saying, “You lose,” she managed to push the words out before the ache became so unbearable, she let it take her asunder.

As her last conscious breath left her, she saw him run the blade across his throat.