No Closure Without Truth

Chapter 4:

Eva – POV

Just as my fingers brush the door handle, something shifts.

Instinct flares. I pivot, arm raised—just in time to block a clenched fist barely two inches from my face.

The bastard from earlier.

Now I’m pissed.

“You little bitch,” he snarls, eyes wild. “You said no to me, but grandpa over there is good enough for you?”

He leans in, breath hot with whiskey and bitterness. “Well, guess what? Nobody says no to me. And he won’t fuck you half as good as I will. I really like to fu—”

My smile snaps into place, sweet and lethal.

“I like to fuck too,” I say softly.

Then I slam my knee into his groin.

He collapses with a howl, curling into himself like a dying spider. I crouch beside him, lips by his ear.

“But not with you,” I whisper, almost affectionately. “Next time we meet, I won’t play nice.”

I rise, leaving him gasping on the floor as I push through the doors.

Thank the gods I don’t have groins—or that would’ve hurt just watching.

Outside, the night has grown heavy. Clouds drape over the sky like mourning veils, but the moon still burns through, casting a silver glow over the parking lot. I spot Zach leaning against a tree, a cigarette glowing between his fingers.

He doesn’t turn as I approach. He doesn’t have to.

“No need for closure, kid,” he says flatly, stepping just out of reach.

“I can’t do it without being sure,” I say, my voice calm, steady.

He sighs. “Don’t worry, kid. I killed them all.”

His hand trembles. Tears shimmer in his tired eyes.

“I don’t judge you, Zach,” I say gently. “The Elders will decide. But… you didn’t see my true form. That means something. Means maybe you’re not the monster you think.”

He reaches out, eyes hollow. “Then see for yourself, kid.”

I take his hand.

The connection is instant—my soul threads itself into his, searching for truth.

Flash.

I stand in Zach’s front yard. He’s shielding a young boy, barely ten, from two armed men. They’re shouting, advancing. The boy clings to Zach’s leg, terrified.

The men lunge.

Zach reacts fast, throwing one off. But the second draws a gun. Fires.

The child gasps, blood soaking his shirt as he falls to his knees.

Time fractures.

Zach screams. Rage takes over. He fights like a man possessed—ruthless, savage, and desperate. When it’s over, both men lie dead at his feet. But the boy…

The boy doesn’t get back up.

Snap.

The vision fades. I’m back in the cold, and Zach is on his knees, sobbing.

“Please,” he whispers. “Send me to hell already.”

But hell isn’t mine to give.

The Elders speak, their voices low and ancient within me.

He is free to go, Eva. He is worthy. You may offer him a chance.

I kneel beside him. “I’m sorry for your loss, Zach. I can’t end your pain—and I won’t lie to you about healing. But I can offer something else. A purpose.”

He laughs bitterly. “Highly doubt you have anything I want.”

I don’t argue. I just slip a white card into his trembling hand and rise.

“If you change your mind,” I say, walking away.

Behind me, I hear him exhale and unfold the card. I don’t need to turn around to know what’s on it. Just a number. A name. A door he can open—if he chooses.

His silence stretches… then finally, a whisper of a smile.

Not a bad night.

No deaths. No blood. Not that it matters to me… but still, something about tonight feels cleaner.

My legs ache. My mind hums with psychic static. Entering someone’s soul—reliving their worst moment—takes more than it gives.

By the time I reach my little black convertible, my thoughts have already drifted to a hot bath, lavender oil, and the soft hiss of bubbles breaking against skin.