Chapter 5: Skin for Skin, Lie for Lie

The estate’s basement was where most people died. It was cold and damp, the air thick with secrets. The walls were lined with shelves, each one holding some grisly trophy from Savannah’s past. I bribed a caretaker there and found a dirty job collecting bodies of the condemned. I skinned a corpse, used that skin as Mariah’s stand-in, cleaned it up, and made it into a lampshade for Savannah. The work was gruesome, but I steeled myself. I told myself it was for Grandma Edna, for Mariah, for everyone Savannah had hurt. When I was done, the lampshade looked just real enough to fool anyone.

In the Langley estate, the air was thick with the scent of expensive candles. Savannah lounged atop Jackson, her pale neck glistening with sweat. The room was dim, lit only by the flicker of candlelight. Savannah’s laughter rang out, high and clear, as she toyed with Jackson like a cat with a mouse. She ordered me to hang the lampshade made of skin by her bed. Her voice was lazy, her eyes half-closed. She watched me work, a small, satisfied smile on her lips. I deliberately lit the candles extra bright, just so Jackson would see every detail of that human skin. I wanted him to know what he’d done, to see the consequences of his betrayal. The shadows danced on the walls, turning the room into a twisted carnival.

Sure enough, Jackson’s face went red, his gaze darting away. He shifted uncomfortably, his hands clenched into fists. I saw the guilt written all over his face, but he said nothing. Savannah caressed his handsome, guilt-ridden face and laughed softly. “Jackson, I really do like you—even when you’re this pathetic. From today on, you’ll stay here in the Langley estate and serve me. Please me, and I’ll make you rich and untouchable.” Her words were honeyed poison, a promise and a threat all at once. Jackson flinched, but didn’t dare argue.

Jackson, newly elected mayor, prided himself on his dignity. He hated the thought of people mocking him for being weak, for falling at Savannah’s feet. He’d worked his whole life to be respected, to be seen as a man of honor. Now, he was nothing more than Savannah’s plaything. But he didn’t dare defy her, so he could only play along, carefully. “Miss Langley, this isn’t proper. The governor assigned me to a records project at City Hall. If I stay here in the estate, I’m afraid…” His voice was thin, almost pleading. He tried to sound reasonable, but his fear was obvious.

Before he could finish, Savannah grabbed his face hard. “What are you afraid of? When the riots hit the old town, if I hadn’t offered myself as a hostage and helped my brother escape, he’d never have become governor. I did a great service for the state. So what if I keep you here—or ten, or a hundred more like you? Don’t forget, Jackson, it was you who came crawling to me, begging me to pave your way to success. Without me, you’re just a useless pretty boy. Talk back again, and I’ll turn you into a lampshade too—make you a pair with that wretched woman in the afterlife.” Her grip was bruising, her words cold as ice. Jackson’s bravado crumbled in an instant.

Jackson went white. His lips trembled, his eyes darting to the floor. He looked like he might be sick. Then he lowered his eyes and slumped his shoulders, like a puppet whose strings had been cut. He nodded, his voice barely audible. “Yes, Miss Langley.” He answered softly. “Yes.” The word hung in the air, heavy with resignation. Savannah smiled, satisfied, and turned away.

The news of Mariah’s death soon spread, and my plan began. The servants whispered in the halls, their faces pale. Rumors flew through town like wildfire, each one more gruesome than the last.