Heart Thief - The Sinister Fairy Tales

He rounds his pew, halting when my two soulmates follow me inside, large, bloody, and menacing, like attack wolves ready to tear him into pieces.

“You won’t get away with this.” He clenches his fists. I jerk my head in command, and my wolves attack, tackling my father to the ground with little effort. “Not as easy as beating little girls, is it, Father?” I mock.

As he’s frog marched outside with his hands tied behind his back, like the criminal he is. I’m grateful for the cloak of the night keeping us camouflaged.

When we get back to their boat, they drag him on board and then lift me inside, taking us far enough out for privacy.

“I’m not the enemy, Mona.” My father struggles against the makeshift bindings of robe rope from the church.

“Yes you are.” I snort.

“Why do you treat this as a war?” he growls.

“Because it is one,” I snap. “I’m fighting for my freedom. Your faith is not mine.”

“When the light fades, who will save you, if you don’t have faith?”

He truly believes the spill coming out of his mouth.

“I don’t fear the darkness.” I shake my head.

“You should.”

“I don’t fear it because I am the darkness. You forced me to be.”

“Mona?” He says my name with panic now, fear sparking in his eyes.

“I’m sorry you have to die so I can live.”

“Mona,” he urges.

“It’s okay, Father. If your God truly exists, you shouldn’t fear death.”

Colt looks to me for direction. I nod my head for him to get my father to his feet.

I close my eyes, gathering my courage. “Bye, Father,” I say, my eyes opening, full and clear. I shove his chest and his eyes widen in shock as his body hits the water, sending a splash up and over the boat. He sinks fast, struggling with the bindings. I watch as he fades from the surface, falling beneath, air pockets popping on the water’s surface. There’s no sense of sorrow in my heart, only relief.

“What now?” Colt asks.

“Now, we go free my mother.”

Epilogue

Epilogue One

Mona

The dungeon beneath the very stage my father used to preach God’s words and light was the thing of horrors and hell. My father was the devil. He needed to die in order for our people to live. “You look lovely,” I tell my mother as she fiddles with the strings of her dress. “I don’t think I can do this,” she murmurs.

I found both her and Claudia in a small cell not fit enough for an animal, let alone a human being. Poor Megan was huddled in her cell, waiting to learn if any of the men who defiled her left a baby inside her womb. My mother wept when I told her about my father, a mix of grief and elation.

“You’re going to be a wonderful leader for the settlers who want to stay here. They need someone kind and loving.”

Not everyone wanted freedom. They mourned their leader, who they were shocked to learn died in a boating accident with Eli. It was easier that way.

Claudia and a bunch of younger islanders chose to leave with the promise of a donation and help from the Ward brothers’ foundation set up to aid islanders adjust into society. But for some, this island has always been home and they’re too afraid to leave.

My mother takes her place at the front of the church, not on the stage, but staying on the same level as her people. She’s not preaching to them.

I take a seat next to Mary, who chose to stay here, along with her family.

“I want to first thank you for coming to this meeting today. I think it will be beneficial for us to hold such things to address any concerns from our residents and solve them in a humane and civilized manner.” She starts, and a hush of uncertain silence hangs in the air. “Things will change. I appreciate change is hard for some people, and I want you to understand you’re safe to voice your concerns.”

“What is going to change?” Megan’s mother speaks up. Megan was one who chose to leave this place.

“For starters, there will be no more cleansings of any kind.”

A rush of gasps echo through the room.

“No one is a prisoner here. You are free people. Your faith is not tied to this island. It lives inside and all around you. It’s in the air you breath, the bird’s song in the morning, the crashing of the waves on the shore.”

I smile, thinking of the water.

“We will be allowed to swim and teach our children how. We will embrace the outside world and invite visitors here to teach us about the modern world.” She looks over to me, a tear in her eye. “We will forgive easy and love hard. The person we choose for ourselves will not be assigned to us. We will be free to marry or not marry, if that’s not what we want.”