Into the Heart of a Killer: Memoirs of an Assassin

Chapter Twenty-Four

The next time I woke up, I was terrifyingly numb. I almost wanted that excruciating pain back. Anything that could convince me I was even still alive. I forced myself to open my eyes, blinking rapidly as the light momentarily blinded me.

I was on my back, as far as I could tell. I moved my wrists tentatively and touched my stomach. All I came away with was bunched up covers. I loosed a breath and closed my eyes again. I felt sticky and hot still, and my limbs felt heavy. My breathing came in raspy spurts. I wondered how long Ceseth had had his hand on my neck, and whether or not he'd actually tried to kill me. My thoughts raced. Why had he done that? It had ended the pain, yes... but why had that been a necessary course of action?

I lifted my head cautiously and opened my eyes once more. I didn't recognize my surroundings. The bed I was in was much plusher than the one at Ceseth's house. The covers were not covered in sweat, but they felt oddly damp. The room was minimally decorated, with a single chair in the left corner of the room, and a potted plant that had grown unruly by the side of that chair, brushing against the doorway. The room was smaller than mine, but the lack of furniture made it seem much more spacious. No one was in the room with me.

I tilted my head to the right, staring through the doorway. The doorway was halfway open, but the way the door was positioned, I found it impossible to see outside my room. Next to me was a bedside table. It was slick. Slick with...

I gaped.

Is that...blood?

I quickly looked away. My stomach was wound up tight with all the possibilities. It was possible, of course, that it wasn't blood at all, and, in fact, I was merely seeing things. I'd learned to live in blood, to simultaneously worship and destroy the bodies it came from.

"You're awake."

I hadn't noticed the door open any further; it appeared that, unlike Ceseth's house, the hinges on these doors were actually well-oiled. It had swung open without a sound.

"What's...what's that?" I whispered, nodding to the table next to me. The unidentified man followed my gaze.

"Oh. A mistake, that's what. I meant to clean that up."

My hand fell to my stomach. "Why am I here? Who brought me?"

"I believe he told me his name was Anais. You're Liliana, correct?"

I hesitated for a second. Anais? The only person who could have possibly brought me was Ceseth—so it was obvious that he didn't want this man to know who we truly were.

"Yes," I replied.

"Well, Liliana," the man said. "It's my unfortunate job to inform you that you lost your child."

I stared at him.

Somehow, I wasn't surprised. Somehow, I had known what had happened. And still somehow, I knew Ceseth was responsible. Despite the fact that the prospect of pregnancy had terrified me, I found tears in my eyes. My heart clenched painfully and I mentally berated myself for being so weak. It was just another thing Ceseth would have punished me for.

"I am sorry for your loss..." the man trailed off, as if he didn't really believe his words. He didn't seem too sorry. In fact, he seemed rather... relieved? Relieved about what? I automatically didn't like him. He struck me as the type of person Ceseth would get along well with, and any man like that was no man at all. He was a monster.

Amid my raging thoughts, I couldn't think of how to respond to him. There was nothing truly to say. This man had destroyed whatever life had been inside me. I hadn't been excited for it by any means, but it had still been a life. And I hadn't planned on keeping the child. Someone would have taken it. An orphanage, at worst, but even then that would've been a better start at life than I'd ever had. The man didn't seem to notice my internal conflict as he wiped up the blood on the bedside table and left the room. I was left waiting alone for Anais—Ceseth.

I hadn't expected how angrily I would have responded when I saw Ceseth.

The moment "Anais" walked into the room whatever pain I'd been feeling left. All I could feel was a terrifying rage that made me want to do little more than kill him, and the man who had taken my child from me. I shot from my position laying down, and had gotten one leg over the bed when a shooting pain went down my abdomen. I gasped and buckled over, tears reaching my eyes again.

"Liliana." Ceseth's voice was flat. He had seen the look in my eyes. He had known what I had intended to do.

"You did this," I whispered. "You."

"You have no proof," Ceseth said. "Once you find some, show me, and I'll gladly take whatever measly punishment you think to give me. But until then, I'm innocent."

I didn't look up, but instead tried to focus on steadying my breathing. It was raspy again, but it settled faster than I'd anticipated. Slowly, I straightened myself out and sat up. Intentionally I kept my eyes off of Ceseth, afraid that I would be tempted to do something rash. My body had taken a beating from whatever had happened.

What had happened? I wondered. All I knew was that I had been pregnant, and was no longer.

"You're a monster," I said finally, forcing myself to look into his eyes. That rage returned full-force, and for a second I was afraid it would physically knock me over. It was a horrifying crash of emotions.

"Yes, so you've said," Ceseth said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Lay back down, foolish child. You've got to recover properly before we can go home."

He turned and left, leaving me once more alone in the room, with nothing but unanswered questions and unshed tears.