It started with the dreams.
Joel stopped sleeping at home. Too many ghosts in the hallway. Too many memories in Yvonne's voice when she asked, "When's Mommy coming home?"
He started sleeping in his cruiser, parked outside the hospital. At first it was to stay close to Eliza. But then… he started dreaming. Always the same.
A door.
Red, rotting wood. Carved with symbols that moved when you weren't looking.
And behind it: whispers.
They never said his name. But he felt them calling.
The cult leader was still in custody. The one man he hadn't shot during the raid. The only one who just… smiled as his world burned.
He was locked in a private psychiatric unit now. Unfit to stand trial, too insane to execute. Joel had made sure of that. He told the board the guy was a goldmine of information.
But really?
He couldn't stop thinking about what the bastard had said before they dragged him off in cuffs:
"She's gone where flesh unravels, but deals are always welcome."
Joel had laughed it off.
Until Eliza came back.
Now, standing outside the padded room, Joel clenched his jaw. The lights flickered above. They always did near this guy.
Inside, the cult leader was waiting.
The interrogation room smelled like damp metal and secrets.
Joel stared at the man who had caused all of this. Who had whispered riddles while Eliza bled out in his arms. Who smiled too calmly for someone behind bars.
The cult leader just hummed an old lullaby.
The cult leader giggled. "Tired of playing cop?"
The cult leader leaned forward, eyes gleaming. "She came back touched, didn't she? Just a little cracked at the edges. The child inside her is kicking a little too hard?"
Joel's breath caught.
Joel slammed him against the wall.
He knew.
"I will rip every tooth from your mouth and make you guess what order they go back in unless you talk."
The cult leader grinned wider. "You know what she brought back with her, don't you? That baby's not yours anymore. Not really. You're housing a tenant of Hell in your wife's womb. Cute, right?"
The cult leader wheezed out a laugh."…She's not here anymore. Not really," the man whispered. "She's in-between. She crossed into the thinnest part of the veil, where only the right trade can bring her back."
Joel's fists clenched.
"I don't want riddles."
"No riddles," the man said. "Just… math. One soul in. One soul out."
He leaned in, breath tickling Joel's ear.
"No."
The cult leader smiled. "One soul. Yvonne's soul. She is pure. And I will whisper your name into the cracks of the earth. He'll hear it. Asmodeus. He'll grant your wish."
Joel shook his head.
But his hands wouldn't stop shaking.
Joel's stomach twisted.
"She wouldn't feel a thing," the man added gently, like offering medicine. "She'll live a better life there. She'll be part of something greater. All you have to do is nod."
Joel didn't nod.
He didn't speak.
He just remembered Eliza's hand on her belly. The way her mouth twitched into that wrong smile. The doctors saying the baby was still healthy. That it was growing fast. Too fast.
That night, Joel stood at Yvonne's doorway, watching her sleep.
She had her arms around her teddy bear. Her little feet poking out from under the blanket.She looked like Eliza.
His heart broke.
But somewhere, something in him snapped too.
Because the next morning…
He made the deal.