Chapter Twenty-Three

My name is Mirea Messor and I am a coward.

A big, blatant, repugnant coward.

Inanis got drunk shamelessly in front of me. I found it annoying, then amusing, and then he confessed.

He just had to tell the truth.

And ever since he admitted he wanted me back in our bedroom, I have hid from him like the frightened coward I am. Because it means my intuition was right. Inanis had feelings for me, they may be his own version of feelings, nothing but bitter lust, and bipolar emotions, but either way, they were feelings.

I didn't like it at all.

So, I hide.

I opened the door of the bedroom that I sleep in and poked my head out into the hall. I glanced left, then right, confirming that Inanis was not anywhere around.

I took a deep breath, with Leech by my feet, and tiptoed out.

It's been two days since Inanis got drunk on the couch and confessed his gross feelings that I wish I could ignore.

The worst part is, I found myself more surprised than actually angry (to which, when realizing that fact, I immediately got irrationally angry).

There was nobody in the long hall, as I sneakily walked to the staircase, and took a few steps down. I could see into the doors of the giant living room, where Inanis was not in. I could also see into the doors of the dramatically large dining room, where again, Inanis was nowhere to be seen.

Very strange, but I took the blessing, and ran into the dining room, which led to the kitchen.

There were multiple chefs cooking food that I never understood why. Every hour of the day there they were making something, for when Inanis does decide to eat something, there'd always be something ready for him. Even though I've never really seen Inanis eat other than a few bites on the rare occasion that we do eat dinner together when guests came over. Most the time I'd watch him cut the food on his plate in tiny, minuscule pieces, swipe them to the side, and then complain that he was bored, and proceed to get up to leave, giving me the privilege of eating alone with guests that I had no idea how to converse with.

I understood his figure was important to him, he was the Bone Cutter after all, but sometimes I wonder if he uses his hyper activity and proneness to boredom as an easy excuse to starve himself.

Not that I cared at all. He could starve to death if that's what he wanted.

I walked into the kitchen and saw a freshly baked tray of miniature powder cakes, all set out to cool. Since I was practically starving after hiding in my room for so long, I grabbed one, and allowed myself to enjoy it.

It's not like these cakes would actually get eaten anyway. I've never seen Inanis eat sugar, and I don't think I will anytime soon.

The amount of food this house wastes repulses me.

Leech sat by my feet, and one of the chefs threw him a tiny piece of meat from the pan of whatever they were cooking. Leech ate the food with his take wagging ferociously and I smiled at the chef as a thank you.

Inanis may be an asshole, but the people who worked here, I've come to understand, were decent people. Even though they voluntarily work for a murderer who scares the shit out of every American in the political field.

I left the kitchen while holding a second cake and began making my way back to the guest bedroom where I'd hide and hate myself for however longer I could without Inanis barging in and yelling at me.

I left the dining room, into the entryway where I turned to go up the stairs.

Only, coming down the stairs was Inanis, in his coat, and gloves, and unsatisfied look on his face.

"Finally come out of hiding?" He asked his voice held a forced sweetness to it that made me frown.

"No." I tell him, "I just got hungry, but don't worry, I'm returning back to my hole where I won't have to be subjected to your face."

He took a few steps down, until we were face-to-face. "Dear wife, you do understand that tomorrow we will be heading out for the selection ceremony, right?"

I pretended to be calm, "Like you said, that's tomorrow, not now." I tried to walk up the stairs past him, but he grabbed my arm, and pulled me back.

"Mirea-" Hearing him call me by my name and not wife, or rat, always put me on edge. It was enough of a shock that I actually looked him defiantly in the eyes.

"What?" I cut him off, the word came out a lot harsher than I intended it to.

The look on his face was expressionless for a long moment, as we just stared at each other, before he forced a mask of boredom, "Nothing, it's nothing." He walked past me, forcing his shoulder to roughly hit against mine as I watched him escalade down the stairs, and exit through the front door of the house.

Suddenly the cake in my hand made my stomach swirl, and my heart ache, and I gave the remainder of it to Leech, which he took graciously as my eyes were glued to the front door where Inanis left through.

I knew I had to try to be kinder to Inanis if I wanted him to do what I asked.

But being kinder happened to backfire on me when he shamelessly confessed his revolting feelings as a pathetic drunk.

A pathetic drunk that I happened to think about every moment of the day.

I huffed indignantly and stomped back down the stairs. I know I should apologize because not doing so would only make things more awkward between us, and because it would definitely score me more points in our 'relationship'.

Instead, I left through the front door, and followed after Inanis who was walking towards a car, which would go God knows where.

Did I really wanted to subject myself to an entire day with Inanis and his obscure activities? No.

Was I going to force myself to do it anyway? Yes.

He must have heard me coming as he turned his head back, and his eyes met mine. A look of confusion slipped through his mask of monotony, before it immediately dissipated and returned to a neutral expression.

"I'm coming along." I tell him and swiftly got into the car before he could object.

After a moment, he got in beside me, and I was very aware just how close we were together.

I hated it.

He smelled really good.

I hated it.

He smelled like sandalwood and patchouli, I could smell it forever.

I hated it.

"You offer to come without any ideas on where we are going." He says finally, "What if we were going somewhere grotesque? Like the slums of D.C.? Or even worse, the neighborhoods of America's favorite politicians?"

"I don't care where we are going."

He clicked his tongue, "Liars are gross."

"Then you must be disgusting."

"Disgustingly divine."

I rolled my eyes.

I pretended to ignore him as the vehicle began to decent down the road to a destination I was completely unaware of. I didn't regret going with Inanis, since I never wanted to anyway.

Still, if I wanted him to trust me, this was how it was done.

Inanis didn't speak nearly the entire time we were in the car. I kept stealing glances at him, to see his usual blank expression, and fidgeting leg. He was tapping his fingers on his knee as he stared out the window, then to the floor, then out the window, then back to the floor.

I never really thought about how awful that must be, to have such a hyper active personality that even sitting still was a challenge.

I wonder how he's able to cope, because I certainly couldn't.

The vehicle suddenly came to a stop, even though we were on an empty road that seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. Trees surrounded us from every side, and there weren't any people or cars or buildings anywhere.

Inanis hopped out, without a word.

Naturally, I followed him.

"Where are we?" I ask him as I looked around.

Inanis scowled, "Accomplishing a chore."

I blinked, "What chore?"

"Veneration." He said the word like it tasted of poison. Absolute disgust.

Deciding I didn't feel like asking more questions to only get vague answers to, I waited and followed Inanis through the trees.

I never cared to think what Inanis did with his free time. Since we had began living together, I would hide in the guest bedroom while Inanis was always gone doing things. I never once asked him what the hell it was that he did, and he never explained.

Now, I admit, I'm curious. He seems to keep a busy schedule, and I don't know if that is because of his demanding job, or because he likes to have a lot of things to do.

It never occurred to me that he may make his schedule busy on purpose. And if that were the case, I was slightly interested in knowing what exactly my erratic husband enjoys doing in his free time.

He was silent as we walked down a path of overgrown grass, and untrimmed bushes. He was walking a few feet ahead of me, which was annoying as his pace was quick, and my legs were a lot shorter.

I had to practically run to keep up.

I made sure we stood side by side, as we embarked through the trees.

Ahead of us, there was a large opening, sunlight shone through the branches of the trees, as we walked out into a wide space in the midst of the trees. The space was even more overgrown than the forest areas around it. In the center was a large stone, vines and bare branches hung from the stone like it was supposed to be a hidden secret.

I stared at the stone for a long moment, before realizing there were words engraved on it. Inanis walked over to the stone, and began to pull the vines and branches away from it.

I cocked my head to the side, thoroughly confused. "Is this a memorial?"

"Something of the sort." He replied, as he kicked the remaining branches away.

Upon further inspection I realized it wasn't just a memorial, "It's a grave." I say more as a fact and not a question.

"It is."

I winced, trying to read the words, "Luuke Allan?" I turned to Inanis, "Who is that?"

Inanis huffed, "He was really a nobody."

"Then why is his grave out in the middle of nowhere, and why," I beckoned to the large gravestone, "is it so big?"

Inanis pulled out a small flask from his coat pocket, opened the lid, and poured the liquid that was inside onto the grave.

"I'm confused." I say, as I watch him empty the contents, and then return the flask back into his coat.

"To become a Bone Cutter, we all must start somewhere. Luuke was a nobody, a homeless man with no record of ever existing. He was my first kill, and so I buried him here, as you said, in the middle of nowhere, and I occasionally pour some wine onto his grave."

I stared, not really sure what to say because I had so many questions, "Why wine?"

"He was an insufferable drunk."

"Why did you kill him?"

"You ask a lot of questions."

"You should know that by now."

"Yes, but it seems to always annoy me." He turned around, and began to head through the trees, where we came.

I followed him, "You didn't answer."

"I don't see why I have to."

"You don't visit the graves of anyone else you kill." At least I was sure he didn't. "What makes this guy so different?"

"They say your first kill is your worst, and also your best, kind of like sex."

I frowned at that but kept quiet.

"I killed Luuke when I was thirteen, and slowly being molded into the gorgeous executioner I am today. He was merely a meaningless drunk who happened to be involved in a gang, a really really stupid gang." He simply shrugged like what he was saying was normal, "He just so happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. My people abducted him one night when he was passed out drunk in the streets, and took him to my training home, where I stabbed him for practice."

I swallowed the bile that rose in my throat, "You started killing when you were only a child."

"Yes, that's how it works."

"And you killed him willingly?"

He suddenly stopped, and faced me, "Would you respect me more if I said no?"

"I-"

"Yes, I killed him willingly," He cut me off, "and I'd do it again, and again, and again." He clasped his hands together, "Now let us go to our actual destination. We have lots to do today."

It took me a long moment to find my voice, "Inanis?"

He wouldn't look at me, "Yes, rat?"

I licked my lips, "Why do you come here and pour wine on his grave? Why do you come here at all?"

"Your questions are boring."

"Answer them and I'll stop asking."

"He was my father," He said it with no emotion, absolutely none at all. "My father, who happened to be my mother's one-night stand -to which I was the result of," He shook his head, "Stupid fools."

I opened my mouth to say something, but he held his hand out, silencing me, "Don't begin to think I have any childish feelings or connections to my father at all. In fact, the only time I actually met him was when I drove my cleaver into his chest. He meant nothing to me, I only come here to pay reverence, as anyone should." And that was the end of that.

We walked back to the car in utter silence.

After a long moment of considering it, I decided not to bring up the fact that he was lying.