The Golden Doors rent of the Occult
Knock, knock.
I ran to the door and flung it open. Marcus stood there, holding my sister by a heavy chain. I looked at her, blind in one eye, a thumb missing, and felt nothing.
“I’ve come to beg forgiveness,” she rasped.
“Don’t,” I said, my voice cold. “I know about the occult. I know you opened the Golden Door and murdered for what was behind it. Now the door won't close, and you’re looking for someone to pay the bill.”
She lunged at me, looking more like an evil spirit than my kin, but Marcus jerked the chain.
“You bargained for gold,” I continued. “But you never asked where the demon would find it. He showed you my life points in coin and you took them. You had everything, yet you wanted my life too. I won't pay your debt. I have no interest in your soul or your portal.”
Behind them, a black carriage waited in the shadows. After thirty years of running from her, the end had finally arrived. Marcus hauled on the chain, dragging her toward the horses.
“Your time is up,” he growled. The door of the carriage slammed shut.
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