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“I just wanted to help you!” Grace cries, helpless as she watches Steph be dragged away to a bunker for solitary confinement. All she ever wanted to do was help. Since the moment first she met Steph, she just wanted to be able to save her.
“I don’t need your help!” Steph bites back, not even bothering to look at Grace as she says it. “I need you to stay away from me!”
It leaves something hollow in Grace’s chest. Heavy like grief, black like sin. If she gives up on Steph, she fails her—but if she holds out hope and keeps trying, will that only make Steph hate her more?
Is it possible to save someone who doesn’t want to be saved?
“That doll is so fucking ugly.”
“Language!” Grace scolds, though she leans over to see what Steph is talking about anyway. She’s curious, okay! She needs to make sure it’s a normal toy doll, and not some weird perverted sex doll thing that Steph is looking up on her school Chromebook for some reason.
It’s not. It’s the green plushie that the entire world seems to be going nuts for, which hasn’t even been released yet. Personally, Grace doesn’t see the appeal either, but that’s because she doesn’t fold to idol worship. To crave any material object that desperately is the equivalent to having false gods, and there is only one true God whom Grace has dedicated her life to, thank you very much!
“Shut the fuck up, Chastity,” Steph groans.
Grace kindly chooses to ignore that comment. “I don’t think it’s really worth the money,” she states. “I mean, come on, fifty dollars? Do they think cash grows on trees?! Besides,” she folds her hands in her lap, “you shouldn’t devote yourself to the things of this world. You should focus on storing up treasures for yourself in heaven!”
Steph’s gaze slowly slides over to her. “Right,” she says, belatedly.
“I’m so glad you agree!”
“I didn’t—” she sighs. “Never mind.”
Grace reaches over, closing out of the tab Steph had pulled up with some online store. “Now that that’s settled, I think you should be doing your assignment instead of encouraging temptation!”
Steph groans, burying her face in her hands. “You closed out of my essay tab too,” she points out, voice muffled.
Oh.
Whoops.
“Come to youth group with me!”
Steph looks Grace over. “Nope,” she says, before promptly turning away.
Grace intercepts her, darting around so she and Steph are facing each other once more. “But I think it would be good for you!” she presses. “It’s tons of fun, trust me. There’s a Bible lesson, and small group discussion, and then, if we’re feeling really mischevious, we might play a fun game at the end. Like Bible tag!”
“What the fuck is B—” Steph shakes her head. “Never mind. I don’t care.”
“But Steph—!”
“I already said no!” She steps around Grace. “I don’t need your dumb church club to ‘fix’ me, okay? I’m not broken.”
Grace watches her walk away. Does Steph truly not realize that she needs help? She needs someone like Grace to save her! If she continues down the path she’s on now, she’s going to end up burning in hell, and—and Grace doesn’t even want to think about that! It wouldn’t be fair for someone like Steph to suffer eternally.
Somewhere, deep in her heart, she truly is a good person. Grace knows she is.
She just has to figure out how to make Steph see that.
With a song falling from her lips, Grace cradles Steph’s face in her hands. Join me, she thinks. Join me and we can be happy together. Forever.
This isn’t heaven, but it’s a close alternative.
If it’s as close as Steph will ever get, Grace will make sure she falls into the music as well. No matter how loud Steph screams, or how desperately she fights, she will sing. Grace won’t let her get away.
Steph shows up at church on Easter Sunday, clad in ripped jeans and a faded band t-shirt, a scowl on her face as she trails behind her father. The mayor greets everyone with a kind smile, making pleasant small talk and looking every bit the part of the town leader he is.
Steph, meanwhile, looks like she’s trying to kill everyone in the building with her eyes. And that just won’t do!
“Steph! Hi!!” Grace calls out. “It’s me, Grace! From school!” She bounces up to her and wraps her up in a tight hug, hoping that might serve to boost her mood. She’s heard that for many people who don’t regularly attend church, it can be difficult to wake up early on a weekend. So she needs to show Steph this is totally worth the effort!
“Yeah…” Steph disentangles herself from Grace. “I know who you are.” She presses her lips together, eyes roaming over Grace for a moment. “Do you, uh…always dress like this for church?”
Grace laughs. “No, silly! This is my Easter best!” She twirls, her dress spinning out around her. She chose a frilly light pink one this year—with a modest neckline and short sleeves, of course, because she is not a heathen who would wear something with spaghetti straps and a v-neck. “Don’t you just love it?”
“It’s nice, I guess,” Steph comments. “Say, uh, Grace. Could you point me to the bathroom?”
“Sure! Come with me!” She takes Steph by the arm, leading her through the people milling about in the lobby and down the hall to where the bathrooms are located.
“I’ll wait outside for you!” she declares. Then, a thought occurs to her, and she gasps. “You could even sit with me during the service!”
Steph raises an eyebrow. “Is that allowed before marriage?”
Grace scoffs. “We’d never get married,” she replies, because—obviously. That’s such a crazy thought to have! “We’re both girls.”
Steph clicks her tongue. “Right,” she agrees flatly. “My bad.”
She ducks into the bathroom, leaving Grace alone in the hall with a strange, unnameable feeling settling in her gut.
The thing you cherish most.
But Grace knows high school “love” is fleeting and superficial. There’s a non-zero chance Steph or Pete will die because they’re so ridiculously short-sighted. They don’t even know what it means to love, because they haven’t felt the unconditional love of the Lord. The thing they cherish most?
Grace would be more convinced that Steph’s greatest love is her phone than some guy she spoke to for the first time two and a half weeks ago. Pete is going to die for nothing, and Steph will never forgive herself.
Or worse—she’ll end up dead, too. With her father gone and her mother having died when she was little, the thing she truly cherishes most may very well be her own life. And Grace won’t let that happen.
She’ll sacrifice whatever she must in order to save Steph’s soul.
Grace goes to the big game, against Clivesdale, only because others from her Bible study invited her to join them. It feels dirty to be out so late, even if it is a Friday night and she doesn’t have school or church in the morning. But her Bible study friends are good Christians, and they’re all here as friends, so it must be fine. So long as Grace doesn’t get involved with any illicit activities, like underage drinking or—heaven forbid—making out behind the bleachers!
She eats popcorn, and drinks a bottle of water because the only other drink options are things with caffeine, or too much sugar, or both. And then, inevitably, she has to go to the restroom shortly after halftime. She excuses herself, assuring her friends that she’ll be back in a jiffy, and starts her trek. She doesn’t think much of the risks until she bursts through the door and finds Steph standing at one of the sinks.
“Heya, St…” Grace’s greeting dies on her tongue when she notices that Steph is not alone in the bathroom, or even alone at the sink. Alice, from their Spanish class, is sitting on the edge of the sink basin, her arms wrapped around Steph, and they’re kissing. Kissing!!!
What the heckity heck is going on here?!
Steph whirls around, eyes wide. Her hair is messy, lips swollen, and—is that a hickey on her neck? Oh heck to the no! Grace has to put a stop to this immediately. It must have been divine intervention that she happened to need to pee at the exact moment Steph was in the bathroom committing such egregious acts of sin. She doesn’t even want to think about what might’ve happened if these two had been left to their own devices.
“Grace—” Steph starts.
“You should be better than this,” Grace interrupts, infusing her voice with as much disappointment as she can muster. To think that Steph, of all people, would be a…homosexual. “Don’t you know this is wrong?”
Alice rolls her eyes.
“According to who?” Steph challenges. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m not religious. I don’t need your God to tell me I’m going to a hell I don’t believe in for kissing a girl. So just drop it, alright Chastity?”
“Chill out, Steph,” Alice says, running a hand through her hair. She leans in, like she’s intending to whisper in Steph’s ear, but when she speaks, it’s loud enough for Grace to easily hear. “She’s probably just jealous.”
“I am NOT!” Grace screeches. She marches over to Steph, grabs hold of her arm, and starts tugging her towards the door. “I won’t allow this to continue with my knowledge! I won’t allow you to defile this bathroom!”
“Grace, what the fuck—” She stumbles, letting go of Alice to balance herself, which means Alice lists forward, falling from her perch on the sink and hitting the floor with a yelp and a thud.
“Steph!” she cries.
“That wasn’t my fault!” Steph rips her arm from Grace’s grasp. But she continues facing Grace instead of helping Alice up. “You can’t tell anyone, okay? My dad is gonna flip if this starts going around now—”
“So you know what you’re doing is wrong,” Grace concludes. If Steph truly believed there was no harm in her actions, she wouldn’t care who Grace told. “Good!”
With that, she turns on her heel and marches out of the bathroom, entirely forgetting why she was there in the first place. She has a new goal in mind now—she’s going to make sure Steph gets the help she needs. She’ll be the savior Steph is too scared to ask for.
The Lords in Black say: One of you must give up the thing you cherish most.
The gun is in Steph’s hands. She looks at Pete. Pete looks at Steph.
For a split second, Grace looks at Steph too.
Grace really isn’t sure how she ended up here. In a closet, with Stephanie Lauter, during a game of Seven Minutes in Heaven. That name is such blasphemy, by the way—this is about as far away from heaven as you can get! The fact that anyone would taint the ultimate place of holiness in such a way makes Grace sick, honestly, but ruminating on that does not really help her current situation at all. Unfortunately.
“Why the fuck did you even agree to this game?” Steph grumbles. She shifts, like she’s trying to put more space between them, but it only results in knocking their knees together.
“Um, it’s called Seven Minutes in Heaven,” she replies. “I thought we’d be praying or reciting Bible verses!”
Steph facepalms, groaning into her hands.
Now that Grace’s eyes are adjusting to the dark, she’s forced to fully confront just how close she and Steph are. This closet is, like, really small. It’s a good thing she and Steph are just friends! If one of them were a boy, this would be much more dangerous and absolutely disgusting. It’s hard to believe people their age would choose to participate in this filthy ritual of sin.
“You know they’re all expecting you to expose that you’re secretly a freak now, right?” Steph asks, breaking Grace from her thoughts.
She blinks. “What?”
“Like— that whole ‘repressed chicks are the nastiest sluts’ thing Jägerman keeps going on about? I think it’s gross, but—”
“You think it’s gross too?!”
“It’s gross to reduce women to sexual objects; not to be a slut,” Steph corrects.
Grace clicks her tongue, waving her hand dismissively. Her reponse gets lost in her mind, though, when her gesture accidentally knocks her hand against Steph’s arm. Her flannel is tied around her waist, meaning her arms are bare, meaning Grace just touched her skin. Which is fine! Because they’re friends! They’ve literally hugged before!
So why does she feel like she’s done something wrong?
“If you were secretly a freak,” Steph says, voice low, “I’d be fine with that.”
Grace’s heart stutters in her chest, and something sparks low in her gut. She valiantly tries to ignore both sensations. Though the latter feels sort of…nice. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You think I wouldn’t jump on the chance to kiss a pretty, completely unattainable girl? Just for the hell of it? C’mon, Chastity. I’d do whatever the fuck you wanted me to so I can know what it’s like.”
“You would?” Grace asks, instead of doing the good Christian girl thing and telling Steph off for her desire to kiss other girls or standing up to this heinous game and marching right out of the closet. She should run, because this is actually dangerous because they’re both girls— But she’s frozen in place, staring at Steph, praying she’ll rescind her statement and laugh it off like a joke.
Instead, she whispers, “Yeah,” like a confession. Like a prayer. With reverence that should only be granted to God. It raises goosebumps on Grace’s skin and sends a shiver down her spine. She feels herself lean closer into Steph’s space, as if dragged by a gravitational force. It must be the work of the devil. Is Steph merely a vessel to enact his will?
No. She can’t be. She’s Steph. She may make poor life choices sometimes, but she is not beyond saving. Grace knows this to be true in her heart—she knows Steph is not an incarnation of evil. If the devil is using her as a tool in this moment, it has nothing to do with the allegiance of Steph’s heart and everything to do with him wishing to lead Grace astray.
Jesus was tempted by Satan for forty days and forty nights, and He did not give in. Grace will stay strong too.
“I fucking hate you, Chastity,” Steph murmurs, warm breath fanning across her face. “You’re the bane of my existence, always making my life worse under the guise of ‘helping’. You’ll never get it through your thick fucking skull that I don’t want you to save me. I don’t want you anywhere near me.” She wraps one hand around Grace’s arm, fingers digging into her flesh. She stares down at Grace with dark eyes.
Grace should be praying for a Savior of her own.
But her mind and body are both numb, and the frantic edge to Steph’s voice is making her dizzy. Has she always been this tall? Has she always been this forceful? Has she always been this hot?
“You’re so obnoxious, and I hate you, but I cannot fucking stop thinking about you. I wish I could free you from the cage you’ve trapped yourself in. I wish I could—”
Her voice breaks off sharply. It sticks like a knife in Grace’s chest.
“You wish you could what?” she asks, voice small and not sounding like her own. She doesn’t want to know the answer. But she needs to know all the same.
Steph’s shoulders slump. She lets go of Grace and shuffles backwards, so there are no lingering points of contact between them. And though they’re still only inches apart, Grace feels impossibly cold in her absence. “You could stand to let someone help you, you know. Instead of it always being the other way around. I wish you’d listen to me tell you that.”
Grace reaches for Steph.
And then the door is yanked open, just in the nick of time, bright flourescent lights blinding her and breaking her from whatever trance she’d fallen into.
Don’t you want to be worshipped? the Lords in black whisper. Their presence clings to Grace like spider silk; it wraps around her like an autumn breeze. Isn’t that what someone as pure as you deserves?
Her breath hitches. If she could demand worship, she could redirect it to the Lord. She could bring Him the glory He deserves, from every citizen of Hatchetfield. And then the rest of the world. She could bring heaven to earth—she could ensure everyone is saved.
She could cradle Steph’s darkened soul in her hands and wash it white as snow.
Does Grace want to be worshipped? Not necessarily, but—
When she locks eyes with Steph, she thinks it might be nice. To see her kneeling. To be offered anything she wants. To give herself to Steph the way the Lord gave Himself to His people—to let Steph consume her, until she dwells in her heart.
Grace sharpens her axe. She feels Steph’s gaze hanging heavily over her shoulders, but it’s not an uncomfortable sensation. When she looks up, she meets Steph’s eyes, and finds her basket only half-finished. She’s distracted, by something—or someone. Even though these activities were designed specifically with the intention to curb arousal. She’s probably fantasizing about Pete again.
Except…
Steph isn’t looking at Pete, is she? She’s looking at Grace.
She really, really, shouldn’t be.
Grace doesn’t think before throwing herself between Steph and the knife aimed for her throat. She hadn’t expected to die in the mall on Black Friday, but no one else is around to save Steph, and if Grace dies, she’ll end up in heaven. She can’t say the same for Steph. So she won’t let Steph die.
She can’t let Steph die.
“What the FUCK are you DOING?!!” Steph screams, right as the blade makes contact with Grace’s hand. It pierces through her like the nails in Jesus’ hands when He was crucified.
Grace doesn’t answer, transfixed by the sight of blood spilling from the injury and dribbling down her arm. There’s so much of it. She can hardly feel the pain over the pounding in her ears. It’s so bright, and sticky, and pretty, in a way. She wonders if Steph finds it pretty too.
“Grace!” Steph grabs her by the shoulder, tugging her out of the way just as the man who had previously been attacking Steph swings at her, hand balled into a fist now that he’s lost his weapon.
“Give that back!” he bellows.
Grace blinks. The knife? He wants the knife back?
“Okay,” she mumbles, ripping the blade from her hand.
Steph makes a strangled sound. “Grace, what are you—”
When the man lunges again, Grace doesn’t hesitate. She sidesteps, and then digs his own knife into the soft, vulnerable flesh of his throat. It sinks in smoothly, satisfying. Like cutting through soft butter. The man chokes; blood gushes. He scrambles for purchase on Grace as he collapses, and she kicks him off.
She turns back around to Steph, whose eyes are wide. Her mouth is agape. Probably because of the gore, but Grace doesn’t think it’s too bad, really. It was a necessary casualty. And it’s over now, isn’t it?
“What did you do?” Steph asks, sounding as if she’s horrified for some reason.
Grace tilts her head. Isn’t it obvious?
“I saved you!”
Officer Bailey presses his gun into Grace’s hand. She’s supposed to kill this crazy director-turned-murderer? He has a gun of his own! He already shot one audience member, aim spot-on, bullet ripping straight through his brain.
But—
She has the strength of the Lord on her side.
Steph is somewhere in the audience here, too. She caught a glimpse of her before the show began, when everyone was first finding their seats. Long dark hair and a grey beanie and an oversized flannel. Grace always sees her, somehow.
If Steph is here, it’s up to Grace to save her.
She takes a deep breath and tightens her grip on the gun.
“Did you know Lumber-Axe wouldn’t hurt you?” Steph asks. They’re the last two still outside, tasked with putting out the fire before they return to their cabin for the night. Steph hasn’t exactly been helping, though—she’s just been sitting and staring at the dying embers while Grace does all the work. Not that she minds much. She likes the company Steph offers regardless.
She pokes at the ashes with a stick, making sure she’s successfully extinguished everything. “What do you mean?”
“When you— You know. Jumped in between me and the axe. I just… That was so stupid. So you must’ve known you’d be fine, right?”
Grace pauses.
Truth be told, she hadn’t really thought that far ahead. The threads were still connecting in her mind, weaving the tapestry of Lumber-Axe’s origin story. And then she heard Steph’s scream and determined in her mind to save her by any means necessary. If she’d had more time to think everything over—if she’d had a chance to fully comprehend everything Girl Jeri had told her—then, yeah, she probably would have figured Lumber-Axe would spare her life.
But she hadn’t.
She just—
She couldn’t watch Steph die. So she put herself in the way. It was the only thing she could have possibly done in the moment.
She shrugs. “Not really.”
“Then why—”
“All I knew was that I needed to save you.” She drops the stick, turning to face Steph. “It was my fault you were out in the woods anyway—you wouldn’t have tried to sneak out like that if I hadn’t told the counselors about your…shower incident. And gotten you sentenced to solitary confinement. So…” She sighs. “I hope I finally helped you in a way you could appreciate in the moment!”
Steph’s gaze drops, down to Grace’s axe, which is propped up against the log she’d been sitting on earlier. The blade glints beautifully in the moonlight. Steph may not have wanted Grace’s help dealing with her pregnancy scare, or the shower issue, or her coming to this camp in the first place, but she can’t deny that she needed Grace’s help when it came to Lumber-Axe. Grace did what no one else could.
She saved Steph. And even Steph herself can’t deny it!
“Yeah,” Steph mumbles. “But there’s more to helping someone than just saving their life, you know. Grace, I… I don’t think the kind of help I want is something you’re capable of giving.”
She says it like she’s sorry.
For one terrible, wonderful, horrible second, Grace entertains picking up the axe and turning it on Steph. She wonders what it would feel like to cleave her skull in two, like Lumber-Axe intended to do, like she deserves.
But then she’d be dead. She would be dead, her soul burning in hell, and Grace would not have been able to save her because she would have brought Steph’s demise with her own hands. So she lets Steph’s words fall over her like cold water dousing the flame in her chest, lets them shatter her. She takes them with a brave face. It’s fine. Someone like Grace doesn’t give up hope—and she definitely won’t give up on Steph.
“You’ll see,” she vows. “One day, you’ll take that back. I’ll save you eventually—fully and completely—I swear I will!”
Steph doesn’t openly agree with Grace’s statement.
But she doesn’t offer a disagreement either.
“Was your chastity really the thing you valued above all else?” Nibbly murmurs. He nips at Grace’s ear as he says it. She suppresses a shiver.
“What else would it have been?” she responds, flipping a page in the Black Book. She’s determined to commit the entire thing to memory, so she can use it whenever she needs, regardless of whether it’s in her possession or not. She won’t let herself be rendered powerless if some heathen tries to take it from her.
“Oh, I dunno…” Tinky pokes her shoulder. “Perhaps the girl you wish, more than anything, that you could save?”
Grace’s movements freeze mid-page flip. Her blood runs cold. She fights to keep her voice steady as she lies, “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
“Why, your dear Steph-a-nie, of course!” Blinky giggles. He lowers his sunglasses and blinks up at her from where he’s lying on the floor. “It’s almost cute!”
“If only it weren’t so nauseating,” Wiggly complains.
“If only she wanted you to save her,” Pokey adds. “Alas!”
Grace slams the book shut. The Lords in Black don’t disappear.
“What are you talking about?!” she demands. “Steph is my friend, so what? Of course I want her to live. That doesn’t mean anything! And wanting her more than my chastity? Are you serious?”
Blinky heaves out a sigh. “She makes a point. We all know how the story goes…” He twirls a strand of hair around his finger. “She’s bound and determine to save poor Stephanie every time, but she’ll never let anyone save her back.” He sits up. Gazes into Grace’s eyes. Like he’s peering into her soul.
Like he’s peering into every life she’s ever lived, across every universe, like he can see it all.
“You only know one way to save a person,” he tells her, “and it is never enough for the object of your desire. But you are too selfish to consider any other path, so you will never, ever, succeed. Stephanie Lauter is doomed in every single timeline.” His mouth splits in a grin. “And it’s all your fault!”