“No, I’m not a leprechaun. Ray told me about you, Lizzy,” Fergus said. The blue eyes no longer twinkled as they had during dinner. “It sounds to me like you belong in there.”
Lizzy’s unfurling lips stretched all the way to the long, inky-black hair on either side of her face. He’d never seen a mouth that wide. Lizzy liked to brag about the extra teeth she claimed to possess. Hyperdontia was rare, but it did occur. It wouldn’t surprise him if Lizzy were telling the truth about that, at least. But he hadn’t gotten close enough to check.
“Perhaps. Doesn’t mean we like it, or that we will tolerate confinement indefinitely.”
Fergus flashed him a concerned look, then focused on the captive.
“Why do you enjoy killing, Lizzy?”
Another shrug. “Why not ask why we enjoy breathing?”
The blue eyes narrowed. “How many of you are in there?”
The question sent a shiver across Ray’s shoulders.
“Our name is Legion. For we are many.”
“You’ve read the Bible, I see.”
“Of course. We’ve read all the important books. I’m especially intrigued by the notion of crucifixion.”
“I have a strange question. Do you mind if I ask it?”
“There is no question too strange for the likes of us.”
“May I hold your hand? Just for a moment or two? I find it gives me greater insight while having a conversation.”
Lizzy laughed. “Clearly I’m not the only weirdo in this place now.”
Ray’s eyes flew wide. Lizzy had been referring to herself as ‘we’ since her incarceration. What did the slip-up signify? Had Fergus thrown her off her game? Was Lizzy not as crazy as she seemed?
“Ray, do you mind?” Fergus said, gesturing toward the twelve thumb screws.
“It’s a strange request, but I don’t see what harm it could do. Just be careful. Let her hand extend out, don’t place yours inside.”
“Understood.”
Ray squatted down and began removing the screws. He’d opted for these so he wouldn’t have to use a tool every time he needed to pass Lizzy supplies and food. They weren’t as secure as regular screws, but he’d countered that with an overkill of quantity. One, two, three...
“Excellent,” Fergus said when Ray stepped aside.
“The portal to hell is now open,” Ray said, only half-joking. It was a thought he entertained frequently but had never spoken aloud.
The small man sat cross-legged near the hatch. Lizzy mimicked the position, then extended a pale hand through the opening. Fergus took it gently, almost lovingly, in his own. His blue-eyed gaze locked onto the green-rimmed, bottomless-pit orbs of Lizzy’s eyes. A frown emerged within the red beard.
Seeing it evoked a matching frown from Ray. He’d gotten the willies too on those occasions when he’d had to touch her.
“What’s your favorite color?” Fergus asked after a few seconds.
“Gray, although it is more an absence of color than a color itself. That’s probably why we like it.”
“What’s your favorite song?”
“The Forest by the Cure. It’s delightfully bleak.” She recited the song’s haunting lyrics like a poem, without inflection or rhythm.
Fergus blinked slowly. His grip on Lizzy’s hand tightened.
“I know you’re a reader. What’s your favorite book?”
“The Stranger Beside Me, by Ann Rule.”
Fergus nodded. “Of course. The true crime novel about Ted Bundy. If you were free, Lizzy, what would you do?”
“We would build a cottage in the woods and live there peacefully forever.”
“What type of cottage? Cape Cod? Country French? Log cabin?”
The impossibly wide grin unfolded across the narrow face again. Ray was relieved she didn’t show her teeth this time.
“Something understated. Deliciously cozy and quaint. A cottage that would tempt wanderers to seek sanctuary within its walls. Perhaps we would place a freshly baked pie on the windowsill to encourage guests.”
Fergus dropped her hand quickly, then rubbed his own against the fabric of his pants. He stood the next moment and took a step away from the fencing. “I’m finished, Ray. You may close the hell portal.”
Deranged laughter erupted while Ray slid her meal through the opening. He quickly secured the hatch.
“Good night, Lizzy,” he said, taking Fergus by the elbow and walking back down the corridor. By the time they reached his sleeping quarters, the echoes had faded.
“Looks like you could use a drink. We’ll have some of mine, though. No offense,” Ray said.
“I don’t recall a time I could use a drink more than this moment.”
“She freaked you out, huh? Welcome to my world.”
“I don’t like your world much. May I be frank?”
Ray splashed some of his Four Roses into a couple of red solo cups. “Cheers. And yes, by all means, speak your mind.”
The small man downed the bourbon in one large gulp, then sat heavily on Ray’s bunk bed. “That woman is perhaps the most evil human being I’ve ever encountered. And I’ve encountered more than a few in my time.”
“I would have thought ‘music professor’ would be a fairly innocuous profession.”
“I wasn’t a teacher my entire life.”
“What was that business with holding her hand?”
“What I told Lizzy was true. I find that physical contact amplifies whatever...undercurrents...exist in a person’s verbal output.”
“Interesting, but not very science-y.”
“I did a stint in Tibet during my inquisitive and adventurous youth. Not everything can be explained by modern science. Are you familiar with transcendental meditation?”
“Of course. I have anxiety issues, so I meditate on occasion.”
Fergus nodded. “What I learned from the monks takes mainstream meditation ten levels up. Let’s just say I’m adept at reading energy. If Lizzy were a celestial being, she would be a black hole.”
“That sounds about right.”
“Here’s the frank part. Why keep her alive?”
Ray chuckled. “Don’t think I haven’t asked myself that question a hundred times.” He sighed. “I can’t
