Trigger warning: Discussion of rape

Kaiser was gone by the morning, though the empty chair next to Lenore's bed was still warm when she woke. Her face grew hot at the thought he sat there, watching over her while she slept like some kind of guardian angel. Lenore shook her head, and laughed at the wayward comparison. He might look like one but Kaiser was from an angel. Everything that transpired between them in the secret room was something she needed to forget. If she spent too much time thinking about it, that was bound to only confuse her.

She didn't waste time getting ready, making sure to dress in clothes that would allow easier movement. After yesterday she was going to be prepared for anything. Lenore noted that as everyone told her the wounds Emilio left her with were healed. She ran her fingers over the smooth skin of her cheek, amazed there wasn't even a faint scar left behind. Being—well, whatever she was—had its perks.

Her gaze strayed to the rest of her image in the bathroom mirror. There was a firm crease between her brows and a slight frown formed by dry, cracked lips. Dark, aggressive bag hung under her eyes. Honestly, Lenore wouldn't be surprised if someone mistook her for a walking corpse. Everything about her screamed, stressed out and sleep deprived. And that was accurate, because she was.

With a heavy sigh, she splashed some water into her face, hoping to sharpen her mind. There was a heaviness that clung to her limbs as she moved around the house. Maybe it was the past that haunted her or the truth of everything, whatever the case she couldn't wait to leave this place. Lenore was tempted to ask Kaiser to burn it down behind them. There was nothing worth saving or remembering about this place. 

No one said anything to her when she walked into the dining room. Emilio and Patrick were finishing off the food on their plates. They only deemed Lenore worthy of a passing nod of acknowledgement as they rose from their seats. The awkwardness of the previous day made her tongue thick in her mouth, words hard to find. Should she apologize? Did they know about what happened in the basement?

"Go ahead and take a seat. I've got fresh bacon and french toast coming out," Camila said, peeking her head in through the kitchen door as the boys passed her their dirty plates.

Lenore was grateful for her endless stream of energy. She took a seat, trying not to think too much about what happened at that table days before.

"You healed up well," Emilio said, pausing at the head of the table.

"Yeah, looks like it." Her voice sounded stiff and she averted her gaze, not sure how to fix the strange tension. "When is my next beat down?"

He chuckled at her question. Lenore gave him a sidelong glance, a tiny smile on her lips. "Pat and I have to finish up some preparations for Kaiser. So, it looks like your schedule is up to you today."

"What are you guys doing?"

"Nothing that concerns you," Patrick replied from the front door, sliding his arms into a leather jacket.

Emilio gave her an apologetic smile. "Rest up today. Try not to worry too much about this mess. Tomorrow you'll get back to your scheduled beat down."

Lenore watched the two of them slip out of the Manor. It was hard to ignore the curiosity and suspicion swirling around inside her head. She wanted to know what Kaiser was up to. But she wasn't tempted enough to call him back here to interrogate him about it, especially after what happened yesterday. Lenore would be happy to pretend that it never happened but she doubted he would let her forget (exactly because she wanted to, and he was keen on doing what she disliked the most).  

Camila walked through the kitchen door, humming to herself hands filled with the food she'd promised. She set it down in front of Lenore with a pleased smile. It was clear that whatever bad feelings she might have had yesterday weren't present this morning.

"Well, go on. Stuff yourself silly."

Lenore only hesitated a moment before she began to fill the empty plate at her seat, piling it up a bit higher than she'd intended. She didn't want to think too much about what her growing appetite might mean—she hoped it was only from her body's hard work recovering from her injuries.

"Are you going to need more?"

"Ah—" Lenore covered her mouth, trying to keep some semblance of manners. She had stuffed a large chunk of syrup soaked bread in her mouth. "I think this should be good."

"No reason to hold back. I know how hungry I get." She licked her lips, eyes straying to Lenore's neck.

She gulped the mouthful down. "Does human food not help at all?"

"No. It doesn't ease our hunger."

"Then why eat?"

"Because it's enjoyable and tastes good."

Lenore ripped off a chunk of bacon. "That makes sense I guess..."

Camila leaned her chin into her hand. "And I suppose it's a bit of a habit for us now. It was something Boss made us do when we started working with him. Said it would help us remember what we were and appreciate life more."

That was interesting, and completely unexpected. Kaiser wanted to teach them to appreciate life? It was hard to believe that could ever be the case. He didn't appear to place any value on people beyond what they could do for him.

"Did you not remember yourself after...you know, you changed?"

Those ruby eyes flickered with a dark emotion, one that Lenore could only label as sorrow. "I still don't remember."

"But you have your name."

"Kaiser gave it to me," she said, before Lenore could finish the thought.

"Oh."

"He named me well, I think." She shrugged.

"Definitely!" Lenore agreed, still suprised at that revelation. Though it explained why they were so loyal to him. 

Camila smiled then, light returning to her eyes. "Enough chatting, more eating. Boss said I'm supposed to help you search that secret room."

Lenore's stomach clenched at those words. That was the last place she wanted to go. Maybe he thought this was a consideration of her after what happened, allowing Camila to keep her company through the process. Though she had the sinking suspicion it was more to babysit her. Lenore proved herself to be the weak link yesterday. Now, he must be concerned she would be incapable of completing this task.

It stung. A lot. But she swallowed that feeling down with another large bite of french toast.

# # #

Descending the stairs filled Lenore with nothing but dread and the urge to lose her breakfast. She, happily, let Camila head down first. Almost told her to go alone. But she was the person who knew her Uncle best and the one who would find whatever he was hidden down there. Her sweat began to soak through her T-shirt as Lenore got closer to reaching the bottom of the stairs. The fear that she would breakdown again gripped her, making it harder for her to breathe.

"So, this is where it happened?"

"Huh?"

Camila stepped into the darkness, disappearing for a moment before lights flickered on. She popped back into view. "This is where they did the sacrificing?"

Lenore's eyes focused on the room, it was much smaller than she remembered. There was a desk, a few floor to ceiling bookshelves, an oversized brown leather chair, and the oriental rug with a large brown stain on it. The sight of the brown stain made her stomach lurch. That was her blood—from when they cut the Blessing out.

She turned her face away, squeezing her eyes shut. It was happening again. Lenore was frozen in place and the world was shrinking around her. Soft footsteps approached her then a gentle hand was grabbing hers, holding on firmly.

"It's okay. I'm here."

Those words were still fresh in her mind. Lenore opened her eyes and turned to find Camila waiting. There was no irritation or judgment written on her face. If anything, she appeared serene, as if there was no one and nowhere else she would rather be.

"We can go in together." She gave Lenore's hand an encouraging squeeze. "Whenever you're ready." 

It was such a human response. Too human. It made her suspicious that Kaiser coached Camila to do something like this. Lenore wouldn't put it past him if it meant he'd get what he wanted out of it. Still, the weight of the hand in hers helped to settle her anxiety. Which irritated her more, because the manipulation was working as Kaiser intended.

"You don't have to do this. I won't rat you out to Kaiser."

She tilted her head, the corners of her eyes crinkling as a big grin ate up her face. "Boss has his work cut out for him with you. Good! He deserves to have to work for something. It'll keep him humble."

"Huh?" Lenore blinked, confused by the nonsense response Camila spewed.

"Boss only told me to keep an eye on you. This—" She lifted their clasped hands. "I wanted to do this myself."

That left Lenore more confused. "Why?"

"Because I think a part of me wishes someone did the same for me." 

"What do you mean?"

Camila tightened her grip on her hand. It was nearing the point of pain but she held in the urge to say anything. Only the sound of their breathing and the soft buzz of the fluorescent lights filled the room for a few minutes.

"If you don't want—"

"I'll tell you."

More silence followed and Lenore found the strength to move her feet. She stepped down, taking one step closer to the damned room that changed her life. Both of them were clutching the other's hand like it was an anchor in a turbulent sea.

"All my memories...of any friends, family, or anything precious to me are gone. But I remember the last moments of my life. It's the same for the others too. We only have the memories of the end." 

She took a moment to process what Camila revealed, thinking of the right thing to say, to ask. "Was it bad?"

Camila nodded and began to lead Lenore deeper into the room. Each step was slow and calculated. She left space and time for her to pull back or stop. Lenore allowed herself to be led, letting their arms become a rope and their hands a knot that kept them from drifting apart. 

"I was on my way home from an evening with my friends. A group of drunk men...young business men, started following me. Three blocks they followed until they decided to act. They grabbed me, dragged me out of sight, kicking and screaming. I remember their bruising touch on my body, the smell of their stale breath in my face, the beastly grunting sounds they made like rutting dogs. They each took a turn with me until there was no fight left in me, until they were satisfied."

"Then they argued with one another for a while, and I listened too tired, too dazed to move. They talked about me like I was nothing more than an animal that jumped out in front of a car. As if what they did was an accident. They weren't sorry. They were only afraid that they would be caught. They were concerned about how it might ruin them."

She laughed at that, but there was no humor in it. A wild grin morphed into a vicious sneer, eyes focused on nothing in particular. "I had to listen to them decide my fate. Had to hear how they were going to kill me. No one came to save me. I died alone, shamed, and in pain. They didn't even cover me up. Just left me on a pile of trash next to an overflowing dumpster in a dirty alley."

"When I woke up this was what I had become. And all I had was rage and pain...and the hunger. Everything was gone. But those men's faces were clear to me. And all they had done was damned clear. So, I hunted them down. One by one. Gorged myself on their bodies like they had gorged theirs on mine." 

Lenore swallowed, her heart like a stone in her chest. She wanted to apologize for yesterday. For her comment about not wanting to be a monster. But her voice was gone and she had the feeling Camila wasn't looking for an apology.

"I've done a lot of bad things. Got pretty prolific in my city, before Kaiser found me. I'm not sorry for the things I've done. And I don't expect to be forgiven for them either."

"Me too," Lenore said in a hushed voice. She would never apologize for what she had done or what she intended to do. Even though it was wrong. And it was wrong (she knew it). Her heart was resolved on the matter. 

Camila met her gaze and It was one of understanding. "Was it bad for you?"

Lenore breathed deep, and spoke about what happened to her. It was hard to breathe but the hand holding hers, she would remember later, was warm and the grip firm. And in the back of her mind, a familiar voice whispered, this was where she belonged. 

# # #

Hours passed and they didn't to find anything. They flipped the room upside down looking for anything of value and they only succeeded in creating a mess. Lenore was ten seconds away from pulling out her own hair. She was certain that her Uncle had something more. Everything he had done to this point was too calculated. He had a plan A, B, and C; and then some more in case those failed.

Camila groaned and plopped down into the over sized chair. "I'm calling this a bust."

"Damn it!" Lenore snapped, eyeing a pile of books they'd taken off the shelf.  In a surge of frustration she kicked the pile. It tumbled over, crashing into another towering fortress of books.

That tower teetered for a moment before gravity took over, turning it into a tsunami of paper and ink. Camila gasped, only having a moment to lift her arms over her head as it rained down on her. There were a couple grunts between the crescendo of fluttering pages and hardbacks hitting the floor. 

There was an empty twack that stood out among the heavy thuds. Lenore's body went stiff and she dropped her eyes to the floor. She didn't take time to consider, only bent over and grabbed a couple of books, tossing one at the ground near the chair. Camila gave her a dirty look from under the mess of books now set about and on her.

The book hit the ground with a solid thud. Not caring to explain herself, Lenore tossed another at the ground and once again heard the hard thud. She narrowed her eyes and tossed the another book in her hand.

This time the empty twack that rang out filled her with confidence. She was right about her Uncle. He had hidden something in the basement, but she never suspected that he'd be this paranoid about it. Hiding it under the floor, was that necessary?

She tossed away the rest of the books in her hands as Camila shoved the books off her, and rose from the chair, eyes focused on the floor with a curious gleam. "I guess I won't tell Emilio to go harder on you tomorrow."

"What?"

"Oh, nothing." She waved off Lenore's confusion and gave the chair a hard kick, sending it colliding into the now mostly empty bookshelf. 

They both moved together, pulling back the rug and revealing the floor beneath. It should've been concrete but there was a small portion, about the size of a mailbox, that was covered with metal. Lenore's eyes focused on the tiny, golden key hole. The moment of victory fading in an instance.

"What are the odds it's his porn stash?"

Lenore gave her a blank stare.

"Tough audience," Camila muttered to herself.

"There must be a key somewhere in this place."

"I think we would have stumbled upon it at this point if that was the case. Maybe it's on him."

"Fine. Then we'll just have to torture him until he gives it to us." Lenore turned, fully intent on getting her hands on that key one way or another.

Camila grabbed onto her arm. "I'm all for torture, and far be it from me to get in the way of your fun, but don't you think there's a quicker way." 

"Quicker, how?"

She smiled and squatted down. "So glad you asked."

Camila tapped her nails against the metal, seeming to test it for a moment. Then she was pressing her fingers into the small door, her teeth bared—a wild light in her ruby gaze. The metal groaned, folding in around each finger until they pierced through.

She released a heavy breath, tilting her face up to meet Lenore's gaze. It was such a strange vision. Camila dressed in a red, suede jumpsuit, hair pulled into a neat bun at the nape of her neck. Everything about her actions offset the crisp, colorful, and collected image she presented.

"You keep forgetting, not human." With a fierce yank, the door ripped away, still connected to Camila's hands by the finger holes she created. 

"Give me a break," Lenore muttered, kneeling down to get a better look inside the small space.

There was a wooden box, with beautiful golden filigree lining it. Next to that was some papers, perhaps letters, held together with a rubber band. She reached in and pulled them out. The box was light and on the top was a strange crest or rune that wasn't familiar to Lenore.

She hesitated, sparing Camila a glance before opening the box. Empty. Her heart sank. There was an indent in the dark green, velveteen lining as though something were there not too long ago. Lenore's heart began to beat faster, anger gripping her. There was no way her Uncle suspected this. But he was paranoid enough that he'd be double-crossed for whatever he'd hidden, that he put it someplace else.

Lenore ripped the rubber band off the stack of folded papers and began opening them. Fingers trembling, doing her best not to rip the delicate pages. Her eyes raced over the words, searching for anything that might stand out as important. It took a moment for her to realize it was a letter. The signature at the bottom of the page turned her blood cold—her mother had written this. 

"What is it?"

"A letter—"

"Boring..."

"—Written by my mother."

"Oh? What's it say?"

Lenore's eyes raced back up to the top of the page and she began to read slower. Something in her wanting to savor the words even if they were nothing at all. At first, it appeared to be an ordinary letter, but when she mentioned an offering—the sirens began to go off in Lenore's mind.

Her gaze strayed to the empty box then back to the letter. The offering. That offering. Shit!

Her palms began to sweat. She found it hard to swallow past the growing lump in her throat. Whoever her mother intended to pass the letter and offering to, there was no sign of that in the letter, they never received it. Her Uncle made certain of that. He took it for himself and hid it away instead of returning it.

It made her sick. Lenore was one of his A, B, C plans. What he intended the true offering for; she found herself uninterested in knowing. All that mattered was that he had it along and still sacrificed her. He truly was irredeemable, the most vile bastard to ever exist. He could have secured Dahlia's appointment to Apostle with that alone.

"Don't leave me in suspense."

"She was trying to give the offering she had stolen to someone for safe keeping."

"Hmm..."

"My Uncle got it instead. He had it hidden here. At least until recently."

"Interesting..."

"...Think Kaiser can use any of this? The offering isn't here."

A strange emotion flashed across Camila's face, something akin to guilt, but it was gone before Lenore could be certain. It did make her suspicions flare to life.

"I think he'll find a way to make this information useful."

There was something about this offering, something important enough to give it to a god and dangerous enough to need it safe guarded. Her parents died because of it. A part of her wanted to see it with her own eyes, to understand what caused all her suffering. She folded the letter back up and pocketed it.