The Wrong Person Was Transported to the Horrific Lost Village

Author's Note: Content Warning for this chapter. Just be ready for some graphic detail.

 

Beverly's Happy Life—a good day for her would go like this—

"Hello, Pitter," Beverly said as she crossed the good man on watch.

"Hey, Bev," he replied, nodding from the shaded porch. 

This was something the villagers did—they would leave someone on guard to keep watch over the central gathering spot of the town. This position, in particular, gave the watcher a good view of many of the central buildings and some of the houses. Most importantly, Beverly's house was in eye-shot of the spot. 

Greeting the watcher on guard—that was the most critical part of Beverly's day when she was having a "good week."

After greeting the watcher, she went to her home, descended into her basement, and went to a special place.

Beverly's life had been blessed after she pulled off her second kill. She had gained a passage beneath her home. It was hidden in her basement behind a false wooden wall. Removing the wall revealed an earthen wall. This earthen wall was illusory. It was interesting how overtly magical it was, though, in a way, it was similar to the necklace I had. Of course, the significance of how these magical rewards came to each of us was not missed on me.

Anyway, she would pass through the wall and travel down its extent until she reached her playroom. Then, she would climb out and wait in the woods until her next victim would arrive, having sneaked away from town. And when they did—

"Hey, want to see a special place?" she would ask.

*** 

Present Time

 

"Beverly, I just am dying to know, how did you get this place? Did you dig it out? But oh, what about the strange wall?"

This room and the passage leading to it—if there was a sketchy part in my little act here, it was that I had managed to find this passage. I tried to make it as convincing as I could. I had used my butterflies–a power I was okay with letting this place see–to find it. I used them like little investigators and had them scour the whole room. It was my hope that this act would hide the truth that I had seen it in her memories. 

I knew how ridiculous it looked; I was using one extraordinary power to hide another, but in the case that they could not read my mind, such precautions would be useful for later.

I mused and mused about the strangeness of her home, floating many things until I settled on one question that I thought would be interesting.

"Hey, Beverly," I said, stroking her cheek as she whimpered. "Are you a monster?"

Her eyes widened as her teeth started chattering. I pulled my hand away in response.

"Are you like one of the monsters that are terrorizing us? I thought you were just a beautiful human, but that strange wall..." I narrowed my eyes, my gaze unwavering. "If you're a monster... I have a good track record against monsters, you know--"

"I'm human! I swear! I'm human! Please, just let me go--"

"I can't do that, Beverly." I turned a serious frown into a smile. "But I'm happy to hear that you're human after all!" I chuckled loudly and arrogantly. "All the monsters here are ugly--of course, they couldn't be as beautiful as you are."

Her lips quivered as she wiggled in her seat. "What?" she asked, her eyes frantically searching the dark for solutions that could help her escape.

"It's okay, Beverly... It actually breaks my heart, you know? Ask me what breaks my heart, Beverly--"

"I don't--"

"Please, Beverly."

"Wha--what breaks your heart?"

"Seeing you here. I just... I don't think you deserve to be here, but I have all kinds of ideas about how I can release you." I smiled like a girl with a broken heart. "I'm ugly and so wrong... but I can be in the service of the beautiful." I came closer to Beverly.

"Wait–Wait, Mari! We're the same!"

I cocked my head. "What? We're the same? No, that can't be," I said, keeping my act up. "You're so beautiful and perfect. I can't be the same as you." I shook my head as I giggled. "No, not me. I'm filthy."

"No, we are the same!" she said, her eyes clinging to desperate hope. "We have the same thing wrong in us!"

"I don't understand–"

"I'm a killer too! I get it! I get you, Mari!"

"You're a killer? No, no that can't be—"

"No, I am! I swear!"

I narrowed my eyes at her. I gave it a few moments and then cracked a smile before putting on a deranged laugh. "No, you mean you were a killer outside, yes? And then you changed your ways after coming here—"

"No! I killed people here too!" she said with an almost sick glee consuming her. "The bodies—I even kept the bodies in my basement, beneath floorboards! You can check!"

I wore surprise on my face, but she had just told me what I already knew. She had eight bodies in her basement, the sick bastard. What was important was that she had said this out loud, clearing me to look for the bodies without raising suspicion of any supernatural onlookers. But now, back to my acting—

"I can check…" I said, a little despondent. "You're like me…"

"Yes! I'm like you! Don't you see, we should help each other out! I'll even help you find someone else!" she said with a twisted grin. "You like beautiful women, right? I know a few! We can get them—especially if there are two of us—"

She let out a scream—the most blood-curdling one she had ever belted out. I had driven a knife into her palm.

As she cried, I looked down at her, "If you're dirty like me… then I need to clean you."

She looked up with tears in her eyes. I pulled the knife out, earning a whimper from her.

"Please, stop this," she whimpered.

My anger spiked. I hoped I hadn't shown it. I was just overwhelmed with the urge to ask her if she stopped when the children begged for it but… I wanted to be more careful than I was with Kaz, just in case they were watching me with more scrutiny now…

"Let me... let you in on my precious secret." I straddled her and sneered as she glared at me. "That first-hand wound?" I came closer and whispered into her ear. "That wasn't an accident. I stabbed you, Beverly… and I loved doing it." I forced my body to shake. "I almost left my body--living up to my calling always gives me the shivers... I know we were meant to share an incredible bond. The beautiful Beverly and her diligent devoted."

Her subsequent shudder was fulfilling. I smoothly lifted my hand and showed her the knife.

"Do you remember this?"

She looked at the knife, and I relished how her eyes slowly widened.

"That's right. I took it. Didn't you notice that I had it? I just couldn't leave behind the knife that first drew your blood. It's a priceless treasure now--sacred even," I said, hoping I was putting enough degrees of crazy out there for this place to make use of later. "I couldn't just use new tools as I got to know you more, you know? This knife is our bond."

She shook her head as more tears streamed from her eyes.

"I'm falling in love with you more… You're the only one that can see the true me, Beverly," I said. A killer with a sick definition of love—yeah, it felt like there was plenty of material the malevolent forces could use there.

"I…" she said as she tried to steel herself. "I could always look at you, Mari. You don't have to do this. I'll always watch you—just let me—"

I got up from her and smiled. "I would love that, Beverly… Can I call you, Bev? I'd love to call you Bev."

"Y-Yes! You can call me whatever you like!"

"Thank you, Bev—oh, what joy…" I pulled a canister of toothpicks from my pocket.

"Mari…" Bev said, already quivering.

"I found these in your lovely home, Bev," I said as I opened the canister and pulled out a pick. 

"Mari, what are you—"

"I'll get rid of the filth plaguing you. Promise."

Beverly curled her fingers, but I just grabbed her slender index finger and held it straight.

"Mari, don't--"

"Shh, I need to focus. I don't have my glasses."

I gently lined the toothpick up against the bottom of her fingernail.

"Mari--"

"It's okay."

Beverly's eyes were glued on her finger as she tried to move around on the chair. Was she hoping she'd be able to fall over? Did she forget she nailed it down?

I pressed the toothpick against the flesh holding her nail down. It took a little bit of force, but then, like a pop, it went in a few centimeters all at once.

Beverly let out a shrill cry.

Then, I twisted my fingers, rotating the toothpick beneath her fingernail, almost hearing the sound of wood rubbing against wet flesh. I pushed in again, feeling the pick tear through a thread, popping it. With another push, it broke through more fibers. My fingers jittered each time I went deeper. 

Beverly cried as an unfortunate smell reached my nose. I ignored it and tapped on the toothpick a few times, seeing the fingernail lift a little higher with each tap.

Beverly let out her cry. "Please stop!" 

Tears were running down her face almost as quickly as blood was running down from her finger.

"It hurts, doesn't it?"

She nodded.

"Pain is what happens when filth leaves the body," I replied, unsure of what else to say. In truth, I had gotten distracted by the Vengeance I received from that act of violence.

"Please--"

"Yes, you don't need to beg, Beverly." I showed her the whole canister of toothpicks. "I have more than enough for each and every finger."