Chapter 16: A Lesson in Obedience

It had been three days since Gwen left.

Three days of silence.

Three days of watching the door, waiting—dreading—the moment it would open.

Elliott wasn’t sure if Gwen had actually listened to him. If she had done what he told her and run.

He hoped she had.

But a part of him—a terrible, selfish part—wanted her to come back.

Wanted to see her face, hear her voice, feel the warmth she always carried with her when she stepped into the room.

But she was gone.

And now, he had a new nurse.

Her name was Marie.

She was young, probably around Gwen’s age, with light brown hair and tired, wary eyes. She was kind, soft-spoken, always trying to get him to engage, to interact—but Elliott never did.

He couldn’t.

Not after Gwen.

Not after his father’s warning.

He made sure to keep his distance. Made sure not to care.

But the other nurses? They were watching.

They always were.

They watched how Marie spoke to him. How she treated him like he was something fragile. How she lingered after her shifts, trying to get him to open up.

They were waiting for a reaction.

Waiting for him to break character.

And he let them believe they had found something.

Let them believe that Marie mattered.

Because if they thought she was important, if they thought she was a weakness, then maybe—just maybe—his father wouldn’t go looking for the person who actually was.

And that was how he found himself sitting across from Samuel Delacroix once again.

Elliott kept his face blank as his father studied him, his gloved fingers tapping against the table in slow, controlled movements.

Then, finally, he spoke.

"You’re doing it again, Elliott."

Elliott remained still.

His father sighed, shaking his head as if he were disappointed. "I thought you had learned by now. I thought you understood what happens when you become… attached."

Samuel reached into the inside pocket of his pristine coat, pulling out a small white envelope.

And Elliott’s stomach dropped.

"Let’s not make a habit of this, hmm?"

His father slid the envelope across the table.

Elliott didn’t want to open it.

Didn’t want to see what was inside.

But he knew he had to.

Slowly, carefully, he picked it up, his hands steady even as something dark and cold coiled in his gut.

The moment he flipped it open, his blood turned to ice.

A photograph.

Marie.

Or… what was left of her.

Her body was laid out on a metal table, her limbs neatly severed, her chest carved open like a medical experiment. Her eyes were open—but there was nothing left in them.

Elliott’s grip on the paper tightened.

Not because of Marie.

Not because of the sight in front of him.

But because of what it meant.

His father was testing him.

Testing to see if he would react.

If he would care.

If Marie had actually meant something to him.

Elliott let the rage simmer beneath the surface.

Let it fester, let it grow—but didn’t let it show.

Instead, he slowly set the photograph back down and looked at his father with the same empty, unreadable expression he had perfected over the years.

Samuel smiled. Pleased.

"Good boy."

Elliott clenched his fists beneath the table, his nails digging into his palms.

His father thought he had won again.

That he had taught Elliott another lesson in obedience.

But he was wrong.

Because Elliott hadn’t lost anything today.

Marie was never important.

Marie was a shield.

A distraction.

A necessary sacrifice.

And because of her, his father still didn’t know about Gwen.

And that meant—

She was still safe.

For now.

---

The asylum was always filled with whispers.

Rumors. Stories. Fear.

But this time, Elliott was at the center of them.

He could hear them when they thought he wasn’t listening. When they stood just outside his room, their hushed voices curling through the cracks in the door like smoke.

"He’s gone through four nurses in a little over a year."

"First Lily and Maggie. Then Gwen. Now Marie."

"They say none of them ever really quit. They just… disappear."

Elliott sat on the edge of his cot, his hands resting against his knees, his gaze unfocused as their words drifted around him.

"Something isn’t right about him."

"It’s like he’s cursed. Anyone who gets too close to him just… vanishes."

"Do you think he did something to them?"

Silence.

Then, a shuddered breath.

"I don’t know. But I don’t want to be the next one to find out."

Elliott barely reacted.

Didn’t move. Didn’t flinch.

Because this?

This was good.

Fear kept people away.

Fear kept questions from being asked.

And as long as they feared him, as long as they whispered about the curse of Elliott Delacroix, they wouldn’t look deeper.

Wouldn’t realize that Gwen was still alive.

Wouldn’t realize that he was waiting.

Waiting for the moment when the whispers would no longer be about his nurses.

Waiting for the moment when the only name that would vanish from existence—

Was his father’s.

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