Avarice, page 6
He couldn’t get her to stop.
After a while, Griffin gave up on Abigail and left her behind. He started asking the damned if there was a way back to the other world, but most of them had lost all their teeth and were no longer coherent. Next, he looked for his mother. When that didn’t work, he gave up.
The only way to escape Avarice was to pay for your crimes, but Griffin had none. He could never leave.
At one point, he headed back to Callister’s fortress and pounded his fists against its door for hours, but he was never let in. All he got were raw, bloody knuckles.
“You’re a bitch!” he screamed. “You’re a slimy, vile cunt, and I hope that I never have to see you again!”
A few months later, he began hunting Abigail.
20
Bishop and Abbot were not the first people that Abigail killed.
Wearing nothing but trousers and a hooded cloak, she’d snuck out during the midst of the rebellion against her father’s crown and whilst waiting for an opportunity to revive one of the villagers, discovered a dagger laying in the mud. The moment she’d picked it up, her mind went quiet. It was like all the candles in her head just blew out simultaneously, and she was left feeling so inhuman that nothing mattered, not even life.
She’d snuck up behind and stabbed a soldier in the neck.
So what if he was just doing what he’d been told? She liked getting revenge against her father. She really liked it.
21
After over three months in Avarice, Abigail finally strolled up to and knocked on Callister’s front door. It swung open moments later.
“Why, hello, Abigail,” he drawled upon coming into view, the corners of his mouth already lifting into a grin. “What are you doing here?”
“I need you to call Griffin off. He’s been hunting me.”
“No can do.”
She rolled her eyes. “Are you serious?”
“I brought him here for a reason, you know.” Smirking, he leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms. “Anything else?”
She shrugged. “To be honest, I was hoping that you would’ve suffered.”
“And what makes you think that I didn’t?”
“Well, you’re a king, aren’t you?”
“Everything has a price. Around here, there’s no one smart enough to hold a conversation with.”
“We’re having a conversation right now.”
“I see you’ve spent far too much time with the damned.”
She glared at him.
He offered to let her come in by fluidly stepping to the right and gesturing at the entryway behind him.
“Are you going to be an asshole?”
“Can’t make any promises.”
Rolling her eyes, she accepted his offer by strolling into his fortress.
“So, what do you want to do?” he asked as the door clicked shut behind them.
She was far too busy rushing over to and already drooling over the feast spread out across his kitchen table to answer.
“Abigail?”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Isabel Sellden spends her time drawing, watching shitty movies, and reveling in the fact that she’s filled her life with words. This is her first novel.
Born and raised in Colorado amongst a plethora of animals such as chickens, dogs, hedgehogs, and even a house pig, Isabel takes a lot of inspiration from the world around her. The best example of this would surely have to be her cat, Dumplin, who would much rather be a stray than live with her.
Isabel Sellden, Avarice
