The Scar

The strangest curse we’ve ever run into? The one that scars you for your deceit. Every lie was left on your skin, varying in severity depending on the weight of each fake truth you told.

I couldn’t even fly, man!

The strangest thing about who I caught it from, though; A young woman I ran into by chance. Her love interest was on my hit list, and she technically wasn’t mine to walk with; but she caught my attention (And scarred me heavily for a few hours). Her boyfriend was deeply involved in a human trafficking operation, and after I finished eviscerating him in the living room, (The Big Guy wasn’t happy about that, more on that another time.) I found her hiding in a closet. She only wore one scar. Deep and ugly. I looked at my gloved hand and tried to guess how many I was hiding before quickly losing count. It festered on her face like it was infected, like she still couldn’t get over what it was she lied about. I heard her sob in the closet; that was how I found her. She’d seen everything.

Still covered in blood, from mask to sneakers, I pulled open the closet doors, Ace perched on my shoulder. Her beauty was awe inspiring, the scar nothing more than a distraction from what one should really be looking at. She reminded me of Her. A shame, really. If I weren’t cursed with the knowledge I had, I may have taken the chance to make her my new Mary Jane.

But we both know how that turned out last time.

I offered my hand to her, so she may stand on her own, perhaps for the first time. She didn’t look afraid, nor sad. She couldn’t take her eyes off of him, splattered all over the walls and furniture.

“I’m sorry, Miss. He made his way onto my naughty list this year.”

The pain was excruciating. James was splattered everywhere. She wanted to look away, but she couldn’t. The man who had found her offered his hand, but her eyes remained focused on the blood that adorned every wall and piece of furniture.

After what seemed like forever, she finally looked at the man who had kept his hand extended.

“You’re a monster.” She was glaring now, tears threatening to fall, but she remained composed. Her fists were clenched and her heart was guarded. She didn’t know this man, but she couldn’t care less. She was going to kill him. She was going to kill all of them.

The man didn’t move, so she took the opportunity to study his attire. He was also covered in James’ blood, but he was alive. Most of his attire consisted of dark clothing. His sneakers and the mask he wore stood out the most. I honestly couldn’t give two shits what he’s wearing. She thought. He’ll be dead soon enough.

Her dark, brown hair was beginning to stick to her face. It was hot in this closet and she wanted to leave, but she didn’t dare move while this man stood before her. This closet was her safe space and she wasn’t going to leave until he moved the fuck out of the way.

I poked my head out of his hoodie pocket to see what she really looked like. The Shepherd has a thing for romanticizing damsels, but this one’s beauty was no exaggeration. I tried to keep my voice low, but my squawk echoed through the room. The only time I ever regretted choosing to be a raven.

“You have a penchant for making the pretty ones upset, Hero!”

It comes with the territory.

I drew my hand back and reached for the sheathe hanging from my belt. I pulled my old machete from it, carved with the names of all whose blood it had ever tasted, including my own. I flipped it in my hand, pointing the grip at her.

“That scar’s for him, isn’t it? Well, I’d hate to let such beauty go to waste. This is Crystal,” I said, gesturing to my weapon, still dripping blood on the now filthy white carpet, “run me through with her. Go ahead. You’ve earned it.”

I climbed my way up to the top of his head and sat upon it. Like I said, I couldn’t fly here. The scars this world forced me to bear took most of my feathers. I regarded the young woman,

“Just remember, Pulchra, if you do this for him,” I cocked my head back toward the pile of human viscera beside the coffee table, “then you’re just as irredeemably diabolical as he is, and we will be back for you, someday.”

She scoffed. “You think you can tempt me? Don’t mistake me for a fool.”

After crouching for so long, she mustered the strength to stand. She disregarded the need for a helping hand and studied the man a bit more. There was an aura about him that didn’t make sense. Who is he?

Her eyes glanced once more towards the living room. The scar screamed in agony.

“It doesn’t matter where I got it. As far as I’m concerned, it’s none of your business. Besides, it’s the ones you can’t see that hurt the most. But you wouldn’t know anything about that would you?”

My chest tightened slightly and a chill ran through my skin as my heart failed a beat.

I had to laugh! She had spunk, if nothin’ else.

“If only you knew who you were talking to.”

“Temptation is my specialty; as is pain. In order to deliver it so viciously to others, I’ve had to suffer a great deal, myself. But…”

I turned my back to her and walked back into the living room, dropping my blade sharp-end first into the floor. It stood straight, as a sword would in stone.

“If I know so little of invisible scars, why don’t you tell me about yours?”

I knelt down and dipped my fingers in the man’s blood, refreshing the smile that was beginning to grow dingy on my painted face before I began to mimic the design on the wallpaper above the sofa.

I hopped off his head onto the gore pile, nipping up a piece of small intestine in my beak before bouncing over to the young lady, resting atop her foot. She was shaking; she smelled of incense.

“We get so little opportunity to speak to others these days. So busy; always late.” I laughed again, and almost choked on my death feed.

She stood frozen in fear. It was hard to stop the shaking. Once she had temporarily silenced the fear that was growing inside her, she reached behind and grabbed the pocket knife that was tucked deep inside her pocket. It was the one James had given her. She clung to it like her life depended on it and slowly made her way forward.

“I find it hard to open up to strangers. Surely you can understand and perhaps sympathize? You’ve killed the only person I ever cared about. I don’t have to tell you anything.”

She paused. This was her chance, but she had to be smart. Keep him distracted.

“You’re also quite the nosey one, aren’t you? Who are you anyway?” She inched closer, trying her best to remain calm. It wasn’t working; the adrenaline was pumping through her veins.

I sighed. I didn’t even have to look through Ace’s eyes to know she was coming for me, but with a knife that size, she wasn’t gonna do anything but make me upset. I stopped my finger-painting and turned around, sitting on the sofa and crossing my arms, looking at her.

“Well, I’m definitely not some two-bit thug who trafficks anything with legs and a sense of reason between the ages of seven and forty-five.” I said, gesturing to the corpse on the floor that looked like it had been attacked by a rabid wolf. I wiped my bloody fingers off on my fleece pajama pants and pulled my cigarettes from my pocket. I stuck one through one of the air holes in front of my mouth and offered her the pack before lighting it.

“Smoke? Ya seem stressed, girlfriend,”

“And sticking me with that dainty lil’ thing?”

I pointed to her pocket knife with my index finger, keeping the pack pointed towards her.

“Ain’t gonna make ya feel any better.”

She stopped. Her knuckles were white and she wanted to scream. “Just who do you think you are?!” She pocketed the pocket knife and walked towards him, her shoes meeting his. She was past the point of anger. “You didn’t know James! You don’t know me!”

It was dawn and the light from the rising sun shined perfectly on his mask. Despite his attempt to cover himself, she could see his eyes. They seemed sad and lonely. She paused once more. “You killed the man I loved and I can never forgive you. I will never forgive you.”

“I don’t remember apologizing.” I lit my cigarette, and exhaled slowly. The smoke burned my eyes, something I’d grown sickeningly used to, and began to enjoy over the years. I guess I am a monster.

“You will someday.”

“No, he won’t.”

I never understood why it was times like these that my heart fought with me. When I felt alive again, just for a few seconds. Times that made keeping this mask over my face painful.

“You could take it off at any time…”

But I couldn’t. Not anymore. I longed to tell her that I’ve died for this. Hundreds upon hundreds of times. Watched the people I cared about die; over, and over, and over again.

To tell her that once, I was just like her. A beating heart who desired nothing but to bring justice to the world, to do what was right. To tell her that I was in love once, too. Still am.

I wanted to lie to her. To tell her that no part of me enjoyed any of this. That this dark and solitary existence was Hell for me. But I’ve been there, and I’ll tell ya, this was as close to Heaven as I was ever gonna get. So I told her something different. Something I’d never told anyone before. I didn’t even know if I was allowed to do it. Never stopped me before. So I told her what was on the list.

“James Costa. Age 23. Born on December 25th, ’96. Grew up well, until 13, when his father died in a shootout with the local authorities during a bust based on found evidence of human trafficking. A family business, his mother committed suicide a week later, during a raid on their home caused an accomplice telling an investigator a name and address. James was asleep in his bedroom. He hid four young children crammed inside his closet. Matthew Dennings, age 5, Christina Donahue, age 6, Marietta McCaulley, age 5, and Steven Hayworth, age 9. The authorities found James and took him away “for his own safety”, after he told the authorities his parents forced him to hide the children in his room. The truth, but not the whole truth. Just enough to save him from a scar. Bounced around foster homes until age 15, where an old friend of his father adopted him. Affiliation to the family was unknown by police. He was introduced to the family business, and used a tongue of silver to send living beings to slavery, black market surgeries, et cetera, until his eighteenth birthday, when he met a woman. She was the only person he ever told about this other life he was living behind closed doors, and asked her to keep his secret.” I stopped, and looked at her. Ace continued.

“She saved him from the death penalty when his foster dad threw him under the bus. She lied, in order to save his life, and he continued to thrive in the family business… Until today, of course.”

“Love is a powerful thing, Panemorfi,”

“But Death comes for everyone, in time,”

“Nobody can be saved from the end of the line.”

Speechless. Utterly speechless. She finally released a breath she didn’t know she was holding and hung her head low.

“Of course you know everything. What was I expecting?” It was getting harder and harder to hold back the tears. “I know what he did and it was sickening. But when you love someone, you can’t just stop loving them. You lie to yourself and think, ‘I can fix him,’ but you can’t.” She looked back up at the man. “Still though, I loved him despite everything.” Liar.

She backed away slowly, keeping her eyes trained on his blood stained mask. “I’m sorry for whoever hurt you.” She was tired and not too long ago, she was ready to kill him. It doesn’t really matter in the end. She thought. Killing him won’t bring back James. She turned away from him and made her way to the door. She grabbed the handle, took one more glance behind her at the man with no expression, opened the door, and walked straight into the unknown. The scar was painful, but nothing compared to the pain she was feeling in her chest.

I stood on the porch as she emerged from the doorway in front of me.

“No, I’m sorry. I really am. I didn’t come here for him. Well, I did… but he was more of an errand.”

I could hear behind me the reason why I always tried to stop them from walking away. The Abyss.

The nothingness. The void that stretched for eternity. I spent so long there that I couldn’t let anyone walk into it unless they truly deserved it.

“Please, go back inside. Just for a second. There’s something we have to show you.”

“Sadly, there’s nowhere for you to go, unless it’s with us.”