The Secrets of Lore Seymour

90. What They've Been Hiding

I stare at myself in Lore's bathroom mirror; a panicked man covered in blood. Peeling off my shirt resembles ripping off a bandaid. My body aches, muscles screaming with the pain of one who ran a marathon. The clothes lay forgotten on the floor. I slip into the shower. The warm water tickles my skin, carrying the blood to circle around my toes.

Did this really happen? Lore, the man I... I've come to deeply care for is the serial killer I was sent to find. He has been here, right under my nose, all this time. He's the father of the children I've come to care for. The man who has brought me to his home, who made me see the church for what it truly is, who has given me a chance to become more than what the church made me to be. The images I saw--what Olere revealed--Lore did that.

I run my fingers through my hair, down my neck to wrap tightly around my chest. Though the water's warm enough to steam, I shiver. I gnaw at my thumbnails until they rip. More blood drips from my nails, following the rest down the drain.

What Lore has done, it's towards bad people, like tonight. Aja, that sick disgusting bastard hurt me and now I--oddly enough, it does feel better. Thinking his name didn't bring about the memory of him on top of me, the pain, or his lecherous grin. He is gone. Dead. Not out in the world living a life he doesn't deserve to live. A strangled laugh leaves my lips, then another. Each makes my chest ache. Tears build in my eyes. I don't know why. I can't stop crying. I press my left hand against the cut along the fingers of my right hand. The pain reminds me that this is real, that earlier happened. Aja is dead. I killed him and I don't feel any remorse and I don't care that I don't.

There is fear though, that much is certain when I jolt at the sound of the bathroom door opening. My senses are all over the place, otherwise I would have known Lore was entering. I hear his clothes hit the floor. He brushes back the curtain donning a quiet expression. While not as bloodied as me, it's clear Lore handled the body in some manner. Streaks of red rest along his arms where the blood must have gotten under his clothes and I think a bit in his hair that now rests along his shoulders.

"You've been here a while. I'm surprised the water is still warm," he says, hesitating by the edge of the tub. When I make no move to prevent him from entering, he steps into the tub.

"I didn't realize," I mumble. Lore takes my hand. Even after what happened, what he said, and what I've learned, my heart continues racing from his mere touch. Not in fear, only in desire, even admiration, and I don't know what that means. Have I gone mad?

"You've yet to heal this?" He hums, observing the injury along my fingers.

"I don't want to. I don't know how to explain it, but it's a reminder. The pain lets me know tonight actually happened."

Lore raises my hand to kiss my knuckles. "So be it, but we must at least tend to the wound."

"Okay." I grab a nearby rag to dab the blood from Lore's arms.

"I didn't think you would be so calm about this," he says, allowing me to comb my fingers through his hair.

"I wouldn't call this being calm. My heart is ready to burst. I can't think straight, but knowing that he's gone, I...am I a monster to be relieved? To be happy?"

"Asking a monster if you are a monster is a bit counterproductive." He snakes an arm around my waist, pulling me into his warm embrace. "Monsters are rarely born. They are forged. We have been forged, Seren. You by a church meant to protect you and I by a world unaccepting of my kind."

I rest my forehead against his chest. My ears ring from a headache that threatens to burst my skull. But as Lore holds me, when I feel his lips brush against my temple, there's moments of peace. The noise in my head dissipates.