Elias's POV (continued)

I woke up violently in the cold dawn of the morning, I had accidentally fallen asleep by Ambrosia. My flower remained quietly her head resting on a pillow beside me. Adjusting my stiff body, I rolled my shoulders back and squinted in the darkness of the shed.

I crept outside and locked the door before walking carefully making my way along the dirt path back to the house. Instead of going through the back porch, I made my entrance from the side garage door. I quickly rushed back up into my room and stripped myself of the bloody and torn clothing I had on before rewarding my frozen limbs with the warm water of the shower.

I studied the lines of water carrying Ambrosia's dried blood off from my body and into the metal drain, it was almost hypnotic, and as I finished cleaning myself a hard knock came from the other side of my bedroom door.

"Hold on," I replied.

I stepped out of the shower and toweled myself dry before pulling on a new shirt and pants. Daniel pushed open the door as I reached to unlock it and stood in front of me with a suspicious look.

"You're up early," he announced.

"Yeah I—," my thoughts swung back and forth as I tried to gather up a reasonable excuse, "—I didn't burn all her stuff."

Daniel licked his dry lips and raised his brows in a nonchalant manner. "Yeah I know, I-I came to help you with the rest, I started the fire already so let's go," Daniel said with a hard nod before turning to walk away.

I grabbed a jacket that had been flung over one of the chairs in my room before sliding out and following him. We both entered into Ambrosia's room and my body tensed up profoundly as my mind wandered to the countless times I had been in here.

From the very beginning of helping her set her bags into the very end of sharing the same bed. I had been so engrossed with these thoughts that I hadn't realized Daniel was staring at me.

"You alright man?" Daniel questioned.

I only nodded and began to grab some of her things from the floor and shoved them into large black garbage bags that had been set in the corner of the room. The coverup of Ambrosia's "murder" had begun.

After an hour and a half of cleaning Ambrosia's room had been completely cleared of any remnants of her being. If this house wasn't tied to her or her father's name, Ambrosia's existence here would be untraceable.

We took everything that belonged to her along with bedsheets, towels, and any handwritten documents of hers. We dragged the bags downstairs and past the kitchen where the maid was preparing breakfast. Dismissing the intolerable groan of my stomach I continued on behind Daniel who led me out from the back patio and along a similar pathway that I had used to get from the shed to the house.

Daniel diverged off of the path and brought me to a small open field beside the eastern outskirts of the woods where the crackling of his large bonfire had been awaiting us. I admired the amber flames as they licked the air dangerously threatening any living thing in its perimeter.

Daniel was the first to throw his bag into the flames and wiped his brow gesturing for me to do the same. I replicated his actions without hesitation despite the stinging of disgust and regret of how steady I truly felt about this matter.

It was if I had done it all before.

"How did you make this fire so quickly?" I asked suddenly.

Daniel grinned and cracked his fingers before pointing to a group of containers off into the distance.

"I used to make bonfires like this with my friends back in school, all you need is some gasoline or a hell of a lot of rubbing alcohol, but since we had none of that here I just popped some aerosol containers and drained them on wood."

"Why didn't you just put the whole cans?" I questioned him.

Daniel looked back at me and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"You can't light the whole can on fire because it'll explode...almost like a bomb."

I watched the flames eat away at the black plastic and took steps back as the toxic fumes erupted into the early morning sky. A dangerous thought followed me and I smiled for a second as that dark notion enveloped my mind.

The sooner the better.

I looked at Daniel, really looked at him, and despite his knowledge of such destructive subjects, I noticed he looked considerably younger than me.

Tousled blonde hair and slim pink lips always pressed down in a sad way, however, his eyes were the purest shade of blue. They held something strangely youthful within them.

He was a bouquet of Bellflower plucked too soon.

Daniel lifted his head to look at me and frowned slightly before letting out a stifled laugh.

"You look like you're about the kill me..."

I let out a quizzical smile and scratched the top of my head.

"I was just thinking."

Daniel shook his head and rubbed his arms as a gust of wind pushed by us.

"Yeah I get it, my grandpa used to have that kind of resting face, almost like he wanted to beat you up."

I turned my back to the fire and Daniel did the same, soon we were walking back towards the house speaking on past experiences.

"I never knew much of my grandfather, he was an alcoholic but my mother never wanted to talk about him, " I muttered watching my feet kick around the dense snow.

"My grandpa was too, he never hurt anyone though, he was just...uh depressed or suicidal I think."

Daniel spoke of these running themes of suicide rather calmly to me and through his mannerisms, I could tell he had faced considerable trauma at a young age.

"I lived with him my whole life, which kinda messed with me, I'll admit," Daniel chuckled glancing my way for some sort of comforting word.

"You should talk to a therapist."

That, of course, was beautifully ironic advice I had the pleasure of suggesting. Daniel only shrugged at this statement and blew out a long breath into the air.

The sun had made its appearance high-into the sky suggesting that it had grown close to noon. My mind echoed the sleeping face of Ambrosia and a tight knot collected within the base of my chest.

I need to get back to her.

"How old are you, Elias?"

I blinked realizing my name had been called and I registered the question quickly.

"Twenty-three," I lied, "And you?"

"Twenty," Daniel replied rubbing the bottom of his chin.

We were closing in our distance to the residence and Daniel pulled a crumpled yellow envelope from his back pocket. He unfolded it and my vision slowed.

A single picture of me made its way from the opening, beside me was a body flung across the earth like a discarded piece of trash. I stood working tirelessly on what seemed to be a grave and by the base of my foot were pots of flowers.

"You never struck me as a guy that would do things like this but..." Daniel rubbed the back of his neck and smirked, "this is something different."

My jaw clenched as I watched him shuffle through the photos of my murders while we had now stopped at the back patio. Daniel sighed pushing the envelope towards me and mumbled.

"You look like you need more help than me, Elias."

With that, he strode back into the house and I shifted my weight uncomfortable on my feet before hastily following him.

"Daniel I-"

The familiar poignant smell of rust hit my nose in the midst of a sweet breakfast aroma. Blood on the walls, blood on the stove, and blood on the table. The elderly maid sat limply bound in a chair in the kitchen, a pool of blood by her feet grew from the smaller hole opening next to her eat.

Dante stood wiping his gun with a small kitchen rag. He looked up and gave a smile that etched his tanned skin perfectly. "Her time here was over."

Daniel and I exchanged confused glances and I began to speak but earned a raised hand of impatience from Dante.

"No questions," Dante dismissed slipping his gun into its holster before wiping his face with the rag. He looked to Daniel as other men began to curiously stumble into the scene.

"Is the fire still going?" Dante questioned.

Daniel nodded and with that Dante addressed the cleanup of the dead housekeeper to another associate before pushing through the gathered men to retreat into the back of the residence.

Her time here was over?

What could that woman have done to make Dante kill her? Or was that just it, she had been here too long. A witness that saw too much for too long.

My time is running up.

"Elias, come with me," Dante called from the hall and I stared at his tall form beckoning me into his study room. I separated from the crowded room and followed the smooth man into his domain.

As I entered I spotted a woman who sat deadly still in a blue velvet chair beside Dante's desk. Only her dark brown eyes moved as Elias came into the room. Dante shut the door and smiled locking it before striding over to his desk and leaning against the polished mahogany wood.

"Do you remember this woman?" he asked.

I scanned the woman who sat silently with glassy wide eyes. Her face was smeared in what looked like weeks of old makeup, her dark brown hair was tangled upon her brown head like a bird's nest and she breathed heavily.

Her skirt and blouse were dirty and torn similar to her scraped and sunken cheeks. I gazed deeper into those mirror-like eyes and then and only then could I see what had become of Ambrosia's aunt, Tania Evans.

I returned my eyes to Dante who waited with a haunting gaze.

"No, I don't."

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