“What do we do?!” hissed Zora. “When he wakes up –”

  “He’ll think it was all another one of his hallucinations,” came a male voice. Zeke didn’t have the strength to open his eyes, but his ears worked perfectly fine. He could easily envision the voice’s owner. His handsome face. The kind eyes that hid deceit. After what he’d seen, Zeke knew he could never look at his brother the same way. “You know better than anyone just how unstable his mind is.”

  “We should just finish it. I could give him a higher dose.”

  “They’ll know.”

  “They’re not omniscient,” she argued. “There’s no reason to believe they would find out.”

  “They will know,” the man repeated. “Stick to the plan. He’s not long for this world. Just keep feeding him that wicked concoction, and he’ll keel over right on schedule. Then, it’ll all be ours.” Zeke heard a rustle, then a slight feminine gasp. He could easily imagine that his brother had grabbed Zora’s arm. “But not if you ruin everything with your impatience.”

  “Let me go. You’re hurting my arm.”

  “I need you to say it, Zora. Tell me you trust me.”

  “I…I trust you,” she said. “I’m not going to do anything stupid.”

  He let out a sigh. “Good. Good.”

  “I’m just so tired,” she said. “He was never supposed to come home. And now, I’ve been dealing with that…thing for the past fifteen years. I never thought it would take so long,” she whined. “He should have died a decade ago, but he just keeps holding on. It’s not natural.”

  “He was always stubborn. Even when we were children. He never knew when to just give up. It didn’t matter if he was already beaten. He just kept going. I’ve hated him my whole life, and now that I’m so close to seeing him dead, all I can think of is how pitiful he is. The wretch who was once a hero,” he scoffed. “No one would look at him now and believe it. Not even for a second. Nobody would believe that you were the favored child, right brother?”

  “He can’t hear you,” Zora said.

  “Maybe. But that lesson will seep in. I want him to hear it in the afterlife,” the man hissed venomously. “I want it to echo in his soul for all of eternity. I want him to know that he was brought to his knees by a man who was always considered his inferior. Always second best. Always the sidekick. The weak one. The –”

  “Enough,” Zeke growled, finally finding the strength to open his eyes. It took everything he had left to sit up, but he managed it. “Enough, you traitor.”

  “Ah, you are awake, brother. We have been so worried. You were thrashing in your sleep.”

  “Liar. I heard everything.”

  “Nothing but a dream,” Zora said, sliding into the bed next to him. She placed her cold hand on his bare chest, then pushed him back. It was a reminder of just how weak he had become, but her touch also ignited a fire in his heart. “You somehow wandered out of the house. They found you in the old manor. The new owners were quite shocked.” She gave him an amused smile. “You found them in a…ah…compromising position.”

  Zeke blinked.

  Confusion settled onto his mind like a dense fog. Had he seen what he thought he saw? The image was seared into his thoughts, but with his history of delusion, there was no telling if it was true. He stared down at the bed, the white sheets filling his vision. Then, he glanced up at Zora.

  One of the demons perched on the battered dresser. One side of its split tongue went one way, dragging across the mirror finish of its silver mask. The other did the same on the other side, leaving a trail of saliva.

  But then Zeke saw it.

  The reflection. His brother clearly thought he was out of Zeke’s line of sight. But his expression was apparent in the demon’s mask. That little smirk was all he needed to see to know his memory was true.

  Before Zeke even knew what was happening, his hand snapped out. He barely even felt his fingers closing around Zora’s throat. His weakness vanished in an instant, replaced by an iron grip.

  He squeezed.

  She clawed at his painfully thin arm. His muscles – withered as they were – flexed, standing out in the dim light of the bedroom’s candles. She gasped, her fingernails digging into his papery skin. Blood flowed, glinting like mercury with every drop.

  “What are you doing?!” his brother roared, throwing himself at Zeke. He hit with all the force an athletic man in his prime could muster. It was like running into a brick wall. Zeke didn’t flinch. He didn’t even tremble. His brother recovered quickly, then shook his head in obvious confusion.

  That didn’t last long. He hammered his fists into Zeke’s skull, shattering his knuckles. His hands ruined, the man grabbed hold of his arm and tried to drag it free. That was useless as well.

  Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

  For his part, Zeke hardly even noticed. He only had eyes for Zora’s bulging features. He watched in pain, sadness, and satisfaction as her eyes bulged. Her skin turned red, then shifted to purple. No sound escaped her mouth. Tears leaked down her cheeks as her body convulsed.

  And then, at last, she went limp.

  Zeke didn’t release her. He couldn’t. Instead, he continued to squeeze. With every passing second, he felt her internals give way as her throat collapsed in his grip. Then, her spine cracked, and her head flopped over in grotesque limpness.

  Only then did Zeke release her and turn his attention to his brother.

  “What did you do?!” the man screamed, hyperventilating. “What did you…I…I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you!”

  Zeke stared at him for a long few moments, hardly seeing his panic. He knew the man was his brother, but he couldn’t remember anything else about him. He didn’t even know his name. There were no childhood memories. No pleasant thoughts. He’d accepted him because he’d been told to do so.

  “Who are you?” Zeke asked, his voice lacking the tremble that had become so maddeningly familiar. “Are you one of them?”

  “One of who? I’m your brother.”

  “No, you’re not,” Zeke said, finally rising to his feet. He hadn’t realized how much taller he was than his so-called brother. Often, his broken body and stooped posture made it difficult to remember his old stature. But with his renewed strength, he could rise to his full height. Shoulders square and back straight, he asked, “Are you one of them.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the man hissed, cradling his broken hands as best he could. He cowered, staggering backward. He knew what was coming. He’d seen enough to know he couldn’t resist.

  “What do you do to me?” Zeke asked.

  “Nothing!”

  “Liar,” he said. Then, another word came to mind. “Fraud.”

  He stepped forward, and the other man retreated, his back hitting the dresser. The demon atop the piece of furniture moved sinuously, never losing its balance. Instead, it cocked its head to the side, studying the scene like it was trying to understand what was going on.

  The man lashed out with a kick that Zeke didn’t even feel. And then, Zeke swung. In that blow came fifteen years of frustration. A mountain of pain. Years of anger. His fist moved so quickly that he couldn’t even track it. Instead, one second, the man before him had a head, and the next, it was gone, replaced by an explosion of liquified meat, shards of bone, and blood.

  But Zeke didn’t stop there.

  With unerring strength flowing through him, he continued on, reaching for the demon that seemed like it was mocking him with its very presence. His fist connected, but it was only a glancing blow. The demon went spinning from its perch, but Zeke couldn’t track it. Instead, he spun around, suddenly beset by immense weakness.

  It felt like someone had thrown a thousand pounds onto his shoulders. He collapsed to one knee, but after a split second, he summoned strength from somewhere he couldn’t even perceive. It blazed through him, infusing his every muscle and banishing his infirmity.

  When he rose to his feet, his body was transformed.

  Muscles ripped through his formerly loose clothing. Thick, dark hair sprouted from his scalp. The cataracts in his eyes were banished, and his shaky legs became as steady as mountains.

  He turned to the demon.

  “What is this place?” he growled, snippets of memory coming back to him. Memories of an entire life he would have, only a few minutes before, considered nothing more than fanciful myth. He remembered being reborn and fighting monsters, making friends and finding a family among the castoffs he’d adopted along the way.

  And then he remembered his descent through hell.

  A torrent of emotions flooded his mind, threatening to overwhelm him. Perhaps it would have succeeded if his thoughts weren’t suddenly interrupted by laughter.

  “It is glorious, is it not?” came Zora’s voice.

  Zeke glanced back to see that she had risen from the floor. Her neck still flopped around grotesquely, and her eyes were milky white.

  “You must see it. All this time, you’ve been fighting gods, and yet, it was here, in the Circle of Fraud where you nearly succumbed,” she said.

  “Is…is that supposed to be a lesson?” Zeke asked.

  “Oh, no lessons. Just lies. Glorious deceit,” she said, her voice cracking unnaturally from her broken esophagus. “Only through that can we find the truth. Shadows and light. Truth and lies. It’s the same thing. One has no meaning without the other.”

  Zeke felt divine energy roaring through him, energizing and bolstering him against the thing’s manipulation. He could feel its words trying to snake into his mind. He could feel himself wanting to excuse it. To understand it. To accept it as a necessary evil.

  He refused.

  For the second time that day, Zeke saw a head explode.

  This time, it had belonged to a woman who – only an hour before – he’d thought he loved. Only now did he realize that it had all been a lie. His entire life over the past fifteen years had been an elaborate ruse. A fraudulent fiction meant to punish him.

  In that respect, it was no different from any other circle of Hell.

  Sadness swept through him as he saw her headless body collapse. Fifteen years of love would not be banished so quickly. He still felt the pain of his recent discover. The infidelity. The betrayal. He wished he could kill her again, but he also wanted nothing more than to hold her in his arms.

  It was especially poignant because now, he had the strength to do so.

  He turned his attention back to the demon. It hadn’t had much chance to move. Nor had it tried. Instead, it simply stared at him like it didn’t quite understand what was going on. Like he was a curious bug it wanted to study.

  He stomped on its leg, feeling nothing but air.

  Then, he bent down and grabbed its silver mask before snatching it away. The thing turned to dust in his hand, and it revealed nothing but smoke. Its tongues were the last to dissipate, twisting into the air and disappearing into the air.

  Zeke slammed his hand into the wall, but he found no resistance at all. In fact, when he looked around, he only saw more smoke. It cleared a second later, drifting high into the sky. The landscape it revealed was barren and perfectly flat. Like a blank canvas, save for one defining feature.

  A simple arch made of weathered stone loomed only a few feet away. Zeke stepped toward it, then ran his hand along the rough material. It was real.

  But then again, hadn’t he thought the same thing about everything else only a few minutes before? Could he trust himself to know one way or another? Doubts clung to his thoughts as he spun in place, studying his surroundings. They didn’t change.

  Zeke took a deep breath, mustering his courage as he turned his attention back to the arch. It could be the exit. But then again, there was every chance that it could also be another lie.

  He had no choice, though. There were no other ways out. So, without further ado, he stepped through the arch.