Chapter 48

  “Please don’t let go.”

  Ben tugged her close. The masked girl melted in his embrace.

  She sniffed him, searching his scent. Unbeknownst to her, he did the same. Her fragrance was extremely familiar.

  Strawberry. His favorite. Something his wife wore only on special occasions.

  She looked up and they locked eyes.

  “I think I am ready for you to see my face now,” she said.

  Ben’s heart beat a mile a minute as he reached down and gently removed the wolf mask from her face. He knew it was not his wife. It could not be.

  What he saw sent a shock through his system.

  “Victoria?”

  The face of his sister stared back at him. But it was all wrong.

  Her skin was burned black, her hair gone. The familiar sweet scent vanished, replaced by the stench of burning flesh. Ben’s eyes widened in horror.

  Then she released a bone chilling scream of agony.

  Ben sprang up in his bed, his body drenched in sweat. He panted heavily as the darkness of the room came into focus.

  “Not another one,” he thought.

  It was always the same. But this dream was especially sinister, twisting the intimate moment he had shared with Eve into something cruel.

  As his disorientation cleared, Ben looked down and saw his left hand shaking violently.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  He grabbed it with his right. It did not help.

  Ben rose from his bed and fell to his knees, facing the icons of Jesus and the Virgin Mary mounted on the wall above him.

  “Lord Jesus Christ, son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.”

  He whispered the plea over and over until his knees ached. When he finally opened his eyes, his hand was still shaking.

  Ben had received a revelation recently. Angels were real. Which meant God was real. His faith had changed.

  God was real and He was sending His angels to help him.

  But Ben’s hand still shook. The nightmares persisted. That knowledge did not take away his struggle. If anything, it only recontextualized it and raised more questions.

  Ben stared into the dark for a long while before finally forcing himself to his feet.

  Knock, knock.

  Shuffling came from the other side of the door. When it swung open, Victoria stood there. She wore her nightgown and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

  “Ben? What time is it?”

  She spoke groggily.

  Ben did not answer. He could not even look at her.

  Victoria noticed immediately. His head was bowed. His expression was distraught. Shame clung to him as he avoided her gaze.

  Her eyes dropped to his left hand. She saw the tremor. Her expression softened.

  “Another nightmare?”

  Ben nodded, his jaw clenched tight.

  Victoria sighed and closed the distance between them. She wrapped her arms around him.

  Ben stiffened at the touch, but she did not let go.

  After a moment, he wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly, as if she would disappear if he released her.

  “Oh Ben, when are you going to tell me what’s going on?” she whispered.

  He answered only by holding her tighter.

  After a while, Victoria carefully pulled away. She took his left hand and squeezed it firmly.

  “Come on.”

  Ben offered no resistance as she led him into her room.

  She went to her closet and pulled out a large bean bag chair and a blanket. They were already prepared, folded neatly together.

  Victoria crossed the room and positioned the chair beside the window. She closed the blinds.

  Ben lowered himself into the cushion.

  Victoria covered him with the blanket.

  “Don’t stay up too late,” she said.

  Ben nodded.

  Satisfied, Victoria wandered back to her bed and climbed beneath the sheets.

  “Goodnight, Ben.”

  “Goodnight.”

  She fell asleep quickly and comfortably under his watchful gaze.

  Ben remained awake far into the night. Ever vigilant.

  “Not this time, Lord willing, not this time,” he thought.

  It was a mantra he clung to, repeating it more times than he could count.

  He stayed on guard until sleep finally claimed him.