Page 112 of Decimation

“Watch me.”

“If you do this,” Charles says, his grip tightening, his mouth so close to my ear I can feel his breath, “You will never be Grand Master. Everything you’ve worked for, everything you’ve sacrificed, all these years, it will all be for nothing. Do you understand me? You kill him now, it is all over.”

I’m still straining against him, my muscles screaming, my heart pounding so hard I can feel it in my teeth. But his words are sinking in, burrowing into my brain like maggots.

“This is how it was meant to be,” Charles continues, his voice dropping to something almost reverent. “This is all part of the plan. God’s plan. Do you hear me, Lazarus? This is God’s plan.”

I stop struggling.

I stare at my brother.

Konstantine hasn’t moved. He’s just standing there, swaying slightly, his eyes fixed on something I can’t see.

His hands are trembling.

His whole body is trembling.

And he’s twitching, a horrible, spasmodic movement that ripples through his shoulders, his neck, his face. It makes him look like a puppet with half its strings cut. It makes him look insane.

He’s muttering something. Over and over, the same words, spilling from his lips like a prayer or a curse.

“It happened again. It happened again. It happened again.”

The words send ice down my spine. I don’t know what he means, not exactly, but I can guess. I can see the evidence painted on his skin, the blood, the ruin. Something terrible has happened inside that house.

Charles releases me slowly, cautiously, like I’m a wild animal that might still bite. I don’t move. I just watch as he steps past me, his posture shifting, his expression smoothing into something gentle, something almost kind.

He approaches Konstantine the way you’d approach a frightened horse, slow and deliberate, his hands visible, his voice soft.

“Konstantine,” he says, and my brother flinches like he’s been struck. “It’s me. It’s Charles. I’m here to help you.”

Konstantine stares at him. His eyes are wide, glassy, unfocused. He looks at Charles like he’s seeing a ghost, like he can’t quite believe he’s real.

“Charles?” His voice is small, childlike. Lost.

“Yes,” Charles says, taking Konstantine’s arm. My brother doesn’t resist. He just stands there, trembling as Charles’s fingers close around his elbow. “It’s me. I’m here now. Everything is going to be alright.”

“It has happened again,” Konstantine whispers, and there’s something in his voice, something that might be horror or might be wonder. “Just like before. Just like Ines. It has happened again.”

“I know,” Charles says, and his voice is so gentle, so full of understanding. “I know it has but it’s time now, Konstantine. It’s time to go.”

Konstantine blinks. “Time? Time for what?”

Charles glances at me. Just a flicker of his eyes, just a moment, but I see it. I see the calculation there, the cold, hard purpose beneath the gentle mask.

“The ritual,” he says, turning back to my brother. “You remember? You are Grand Master. You are needed. Everyone is waiting for you.”

“The ritual,” Konstantine repeats. The words come out hollow, empty, like he’s speaking a language he no longer understands. His brow furrows, and for a moment, he looks almost lucid. Almost like the brother I used to know. “I don’t... I don’t...”

“That’s right,” Charles says, nodding enthusiastically, his voice bright and encouraging. “The ritual. It’s time. Let’s get you in a car, let’s get you ready. There are so many people waiting, so many Brethren all gathered to witness your ascension. They need you, Konstantine. The Order needs you.”

“The Brethren,” Konstantine murmurs, and something shifts in his expression. Some flicker of recognition, of memory. “Yes. The Brethren. They’re waiting.”

“They’re waiting,” Charles confirms. He’s already guiding Konstantine toward one of the cars, his hand firm on his arm, his voice a steady, soothing stream of words. “We’ll get you cleaned up. Washed, anointed, dressed in your finest robes. You’ll look magnificent. Everyone will be in awe. And then we’ll fly to the cathedral, and you’ll take your rightful place. Everything you’ve ever wanted, Konstantine. It’s all waiting for you.”

My brother nods, a jerky, mechanical movement. He’s still twitching, still muttering under his breath but he’s moving now, letting Charles lead him away. He looks broken, he looks hollowed out.

He looks like a man who has already died and just hasn’t realised it yet.