Creed by Trisha Leaver

force past my lips. Glancing down, I saw blood staining my forearms, trailing from the crook of my elbow onto the chair.
    There were three cuts—none more than an inch long—on each arm. All oozing.
    I stared at my right arm for a minute, hyper-focused on the muted sound of each drip as it hit the metal pan below. Then I lost it, covering myself with a fully digested round of stomach bile.
    Joseph saw me heave and jerked out of the way.
    There was a knife on the table, along with three murky glass jars containing what I assumed was my blood. In the back of my mind I knew what this was, knew this was how his mother had died. But that knowledge, no matter how heinous, couldn’t compete with the exhaustion sweeping over me.
    My head swayed as I tried to force myself to stay upright. “I got to stay awake,” I mumbled, fearing that sleep was just the opportunity death needed. “Please, Joseph, don’t let me fall asleep.”
    “You can sleep, Dee,” Joseph said, his hand brushing a damp strand of hair off my forehead. “I’ll be here watching you, and I promise I won’t let anything bad happen.”
    He laid a damp cloth on the back of my neck, then wrung out another and gently wiped it across my face. He was cleaning me up. He’d tied me down, bled me, and now he was cleaning me up.
    “Don’t do this, Joseph. Please, let me go.” My voice was a whisper, so soft that I wondered if I’d only spoken the words in my mind.
    “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said as he slowly cleaned my wounds.
    The sting of alcohol momentarily jarred me awake, and I flinched against his hand, trying to get him to leave me alone. It was useless; I was tied tighter than luggage to the top of a family car.
    He let up on the alcohol and gently placed his hand over mine, calming me. “I won’t let my father hurt you either. I promise you, Dee. That’s why I’m here.”
    “Where’s Luke? Where’s Mike?” I asked again.
    “Safe,” he replied.
    “Safe where?” If I could get an idea of where they were, then maybe I could get to them.
    “Don’t worry. They aren’t here. They’re still on the outside.”
    That was good. Somehow I knew that was good. I didn’t want to be in here alone, but if Luke and Mike were on the outside, then there was a chance they could go for help. All I had to do was say alive.
    “Why did you do this, Joseph? I would’ve helped you. I would have convinced Luke to … ” I stopped and swallowed hard. The words were thicker now, almost impossible to formulate.
    Joseph’s outline shuffled in and out of my vision, his movements twisting around in my mind as my eyes fluttered closed. His voice was soft, gentle against the horrible soundtrack of my own blood gathering in the bowl beneath me.
    “I’m sorry,” he said.
    I shook him off, the cold compress he was holding at the back of my neck falling to the floor. “Why? Tell me why.”
    “I need to get Eden out of here. She doesn’t understand what my father has planned for her. She’s too young, too innocent to break free on her own.”
    “We never said we wouldn’t help—”
    “I know what you said.” Joseph cut me off. “I know I could’ve left with you and your friends. But it’s not me I’m afraid for; it’s Eden, and your friends made it clear they wouldn’t risk coming back into town to help me save her. But I bet they’ll come back for you.”
    The tears I’d been fighting finally gave way. Joseph was right. Luke may not have been willing to risk our lives to save a stranger, but he’d absolutely give his life to save mine.
    The soft echo of footsteps filtered down the hall. I counted to five, then listened again, hoping to God the sound was nothing more than fear pulsing through my veins. But it was still there. And getting louder. Getting closer.
    “Close your eyes,” Joseph whispered.
    I shook my head. I wanted to see Elijah Hawkins—this man Joseph was so afraid of—and then I wanted to tell him to go to