CHAPTER 26
SURVIVOR'S GUILT

CORALINE never thought she'd see her mother's smiling expression again, but here she was – right in front of her – grinning from ear to ear. She ran forward, engulfing Francesca Avery in her arms. Her grip was tight and unmoving. She felt her mother's hands run through her short hair, and it reminded Coraline of when she was little, when Francesca would brush her hair.

Everything felt so real. Even when Michael had agreed to her deal, there was always Coraline's pessimistic side telling her that it wasn't possible. As someone who could see visions of the future, you'd think she'd be a little more open-minded. However, it was rational to think that way. Things like magic and contacting the dead were topics you explored through Reddit and old Blogspot profiles. But here was her dead mother standing before her – hugging her – as if she were really there.

Coraline was surprised that she could feel her mother's grip. She felt her flowing white top against her cheek, and allowed her tears to stain it. She felt her own hands lock around her mother's skinny waist. She felt her chestnut hair tickle her fingers. She felt her long nose nuzzled against her hair. But when Coraline leaned away, she realized how ghostly her mother's complexion was. It was strangely white, almost sheer, like the linen shirt she was wearing. Her mother's skin used to be glowing and beautiful, but now it just looked ... dead.

"I'm ..." Coraline shook her head, taking in her mother's dark eyes and eerie features. "Mom, I'm so sorry. I should've saved you. I should've been there with you when –"

Francesca pressed a finger to her daughter's lips. "There isn't anything you could've done," she whispered, cupping Coraline's cheeks. "God would be so proud of you. I know he would. Heaven has assured me of this." Her delicate fingers rubbed away her daughter's tears. Coraline couldn't even roll her eyes at Francesca's religious talk, because she simply wanted her there.

"No, no, I – I could've stopped it," Coraline replied, voice cracking. "I could've, mom. I saw it happen. Six months before the bombs dropped, I had a vision. I should've done something. I should've told you."

"Stop that," Francesca reprimanded, her tone darkening for a quick moment. Coraline hadn't heard her use that voice in a very long time, not since dad died. Her mother's mood softened again as she admired her daughter's rosy face. "You're so beautiful. A beautiful girl with a heart of gold. You were made to outlast us all, Coraline. You always were, because God gave you that gift."

Coraline had to hold herself back from arguing. She sucked in a sob, wondering if her mother knew that she dabbling with Satan right now just to speak with her. Coraline couldn't be a gift from God. Not after all the bad shit she caused. She was a human body filled with to the brink sin and living with her own survivor's guilt. Why else would the Devil grant her the only thing she wished for? It hit her then: had Coraline Avery sold her soul?

"Mom," she whined, almost like an innocent child, "what am I supposed to do? It's only a matter of time before I'm a pile of ash like the rest of the planet. The nuclear winter will surely kill us all soon. Michael says he wants to rebuild the world –"

"Ah, Michael," Francesca looked away for a moment. "Another one that would outlast us, but not for the good reasons. I always knew there was something wrong with that boy, especially after that –"

Coraline's mouth wobbled as she said, "He brought you here, mom."

"I know," she sighed. "I was summoned by his gift. Doesn't mean I don't like him any less." Francesca wiped away more tears, allowing a few of her own to shed. "We don't have much time left, Cora."

"No," Coraline seethed and yanked on her mother's sleeve. "You can't leave yet. You haven't told me what I should do. I'm so lost –"

Francesca licked her lips, thinking over a reply. "I never thought I'd ever say this," she said aloud to herself before glancing back to her daughter, "but I want you to stay close to Michael. I know there has always been a darkness inside of him, but ..." She closed her eyes for a moment and shook her head. "He is the only way you will survive all of this, Coraline. If you stay by his side, you will see the new world."

Coraline's breath hitched in her throat when she noticed her mother's face growing more translucent under her fingertips. She could hardly feel her grasp anymore. Francesca's lips pulled into a sweet smile as she said, "I know I used to call your visions crazy. I know I wasn't the best mom. But I believe in you. You can't let your visions die in the fallout. It isn't your time yet."

Coraline's eyes became glassy as she cried, "Mom, please don't go. I ..." She bit her bottom lip. "I miss you. I'm sorry I never told you that a lot."

"Oh, honey," Francesca soothed, as sheer as silk now, "I miss you too."

And then, she was nothing. Coraline's arms were out, holding the air before her. Tears welled up in her grey eyes, and her nose ran with mucus. She wiped at the bottom of her nostril with the back of her hand, but nothing could stop it. Her mother wasn't there to hold her anymore. She wasn't there to make her stop crying. She was dead.

The room was so quiet. All Coraline could hear was her own sobs. She hadn't heard the door open, or footsteps click behind her. She did, however, finally feel a presence near her back. Coraline sniffled, looking over her shoulder as Michael stood there. His expression was solemn. Not even a quirk of the lips on the Antichrist's handsome features. The conundrum made Coraline's body twist to face him fully, but she refused to say a word.

Michael eyed the water on her cheeks with a furrowed brow. With a careful hand, he reached out and wiped a tear as it escaped her eye. His finger dragged down her face, brushing against her lips for a mere moment. Coraline felt every hair on her neck stand up. She watched him with a narrowed stare. He looked to the tear perched on his finger for a long while, before finally rubbed it away in the palm of his other hand, as if to keep it within his skin.

Coraline's back straightened then. She rubbed away the wetness under her eyes and sucked in loudly, gathering her normal composer. Without a second thought, she hissed, "We have a deal, Michael."

Before he could respond, she was walking past him. Michael watched her skirt sway against the floorboards from over his shoulder. As she went to shut the door, she heard him call, "Coraline Avery?"

She lifted her chin, staring at him through the large crack in the door. He could only see half of her face, but he still smirked suggestively. One grey eye glared at him.

"I'll see you very soon," he purred.

Coraline slammed the door in his face.

•••

Evie Gallant died in her sleep that night. She was found in a bloodied mess. Her chest spat out crimson. Several stab wounds were plunged into her ribcage, while a pair of scissors laid by the murder scene. Her mouth hung open and her eyes were wide with shock. Even on her deathbed, she wore an elegant dress. She would show her wealth in the afterlife too.

The Outpost was now severely lacking in the older woman's unique accent. But somehow, it did seem quieter. Coraline was actually grateful for that. She refused to say it out loud, but she had never been ... bothered by Evie's death. No one really had, besides Gallant, and even then he just seemed nervous. No one had mourned Evie Gallant.

Coco was ecstatic about it. She wouldn't stop repeating, "One less competition for me! She was never going to get into the Sanctuary anyways."

Venable told them that it was a Grey who murdered Evie. At first, Ms. Mead tried to pass it off as Evie dying in her sleep, but once Coraline and the other survivors got a glimpse at the crime scene, they knew the lies they had been fed. Venable had the "accused" Grey exterminated, but Coraline still wondered if that was a lie too.

Eventually, the truth always came out.

After dinner the next night, Gallant pulled Coraline into a long hallway near the staircase. She assumed he was going to complain about her shaky leg during dinner, since all she could think about was that she agreed to do some bonding ceremony with the confirmed Antichrist, who was also her ex-boyfriend from high school. He still hadn't requested her presence yet, hardly leaving his room, as always. It had been more than three weeks since his arrival. The survivors were growing restless to leave, but knew that patience would be their only way getting to the Sanctuary.

Gallant's hand gripped Coraline's elbow tightly as he ushered her into the dimly lit corridor, causing the brunette to yank her arm away. "Hey! Don't touch the goods," she exclaimed. "Why are you –?"

"Shush!" He pressed a finger to her lips, crushing them against each other. Coraline's brow furrowed. "I did a bad thing."

She wrinkled her nose. "What did you do? Sleep with Andre? That's totally a bad thing for you." She grinned for a short second. "Let me guess: he was muttering Stu's name during sex."

Gallant waved his hands around. "I did not fuck Andre! Why would I do that?"

"I was just guessing that you were lonely since ... you know, Evie –"

"That's it, Coraline," Gallant replied, voice lowering to a whisper. "It's about my nana."

Coraline frowned, "Just spit it out."

Gallant licked his bottom lip and turned to the lit end of the hallway, watching a Grey servant pass. Coraline followed his line of vision with a confused expression. As Gallant turned back to her, their stares met.

"I killed her."

Coraline's eyes went wide. "You what?!"

"Keep your voice down!"

She shook her head. "How can I when you ...?" A hand went to her hair as she tried to process her friend's confession. "You looked like you wanted to kill her when you two had that argument. I knew it wasn't a Grey –"

"Please, please," Gallant huffed, wagging a finger in her direction. Candles flickered in and out around them. "Let me explain. Yes, I was mad at my nana, but I would never intentionally kill her. I ..." He rubbed a hand into his eyes. "I don't know what happened. One minute I was ... God, I thought I was fucking Langdon. There, I said it."

Coraline felt a pit of bitterness develop in her chest, but she swept it away and tried to focus on the subject before her. "You thought you were?"

"It was some guy in a full-body suit. I don't know. I assumed it was Langdon!" He chewed on his lip. "It was probably a Grey. I don't know. I'm not focusing on that right now. Anyways, one minute I was hooking up with this guy, and I got ... furious. The next second I blink, I'm straddling my grandmother in her suite and she's dead, while the murder weapon is in my hands. I was covered in my nana's blood, Coraline."

She stepped backward, allowing her spine to press against the cold wall. Her chest went tight, but it wasn't because she was afraid of Gallant, who was standing in front of her with an anxious glare. She simply needed something to lean against, in fear of passing out.

"How ..." Coraline's voice cracked. "How did you cover up the murder?"

Gallant swallowed hard. "That's the thing," he whispered. "Langdon helped me."

Coraline raised a brow. Why in the hell would Michael help out Gallant with Evie's murder? Killing was one of his favorite past times – thanks to the Purge – but it seemed unlike him to help out a stranger like that.

"He said it was a minor infraction," Gallant continued. "Me, killing my nana – a minor infraction. He told me that he was 'charged with finding the seeds from which the future of mankind will blossom.' It would somehow be irresponsible of him to kill me when I could be a viable candidate." He shrugged then, almost lazily. "I mean, I'm not complaining, but ... there's something wrong about this."

"Uh – yeah, there's something wrong about that," Coraline tsked. "Was it him who told Venable and the others that Evie died in her sleep to cover it up?"

Gallant nodded quickly, making Coraline's eyes fill with worry. Her foot was tapping as her leg also began to shake. Gallant tried to ignore it and muttered, "You can't tell anyone, Coraline. I just ... really needed to get this off my chest and you're the only one I can trust. If you tell anyone, I –"

"Shut up," Coraline whispered loudly. "I won't tell anyone, Gallant. Who would I actually tell? I'm not close with anyone else."

As Gallant bobbed his head in agreement, Coraline noticed that her last statement had been a lie. She was close with someone else in the Outpost. She just refused to acknowledge his hold on her.

•••

Coraline couldn't exactly wrap her head around Michael helping to keep Gallant's secret. Her only guess was that Michael had decided from Evie's first interview that she wasn't fit for the Sanctuary, and Gallant's murder did the work for him. That sounded like something Michael would do. Coraline remembered Coco once saying to Evie that Michael would never pick her for the Sanctuary. "You're ancient!" She had exclaimed. "He's looking for people to repopulate the Earth – not fill a bingo hall."

Perhaps, for once, Coco had been right.

Coraline slapped her back against her bed. Being downstairs amongst the survivors for most of the day really made her appreciate alone time, even though it bored her to death. Dinah's voice from dinner that evening echoed in her ears. She told everyone that the death of Evie Gallant shouldn't leave them divided: "We should allow this to strengthen our ties, and remind ourselves that every moment is precious." Gallant threw his fork at her when she was done.

The purple skirt of Coraline's dress fanned across the bed as she laid there, contemplating if she wanted to rip off her corset and go to bed now. She wouldn't be able to sleep, though. Her mind was awake all hours of the day, allowing bags to constantly hang from her eyes. Whenever she tried to close them, she reminisced on sinful memories that her brain refused to forget.

Rubbing the bridge of her nose, Coraline was suddenly reminded of Michael's red gloves again. Her eyes immediately snapped open, and all she wanted then was to give in to her desires and masturbate to the thought of his hand inside her. But – God, fuck! Her conscious screamed. You're better than that! You're better than hooking up with an ex!

She really didn't have a choice anyways. Coraline had to perform some sex ritual with him soon enough, but that would be on his terms, not her own. As much as she tried to tell herself that this wasn't a good idea, she knew that the connection inside of her begged for him to touch her. And it fucking sucked, because all she wanted to do was be mad at him for putting her in this Outpost when she should've died beside her mother.

She just had to date the Antichrist in high school. Maybe if she hadn't, things wouldn't have turned out this way. Or maybe this was always fate's plan for her.

As Coraline debated her thoughts on Michael – even though they were quite clear – she heard a sound by her door. Turning her head to the side, she saw a letter that must have been slipped underneath the doorframe. Coraline sat up and raised a brow, hesitantly clicking her heels over. She bent down and picked up the envelope. It was sealed with a dark, red stamp.

Her expression twisted as she ripped open the envelope. (She wasn't fond of opening letters neatly.) Tearing a small notecard out, Coraline flipped the paper over in her hands. She opened the card and saw a simple string of works written in thick, black ink.

Meet me in my quarters at eight o'clock sharp. –M.L.

Coraline looked up from the letter, and without thinking, she quickly stood and walked over to one of her bedside candles. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she hovered the letter over the flame, allowing the paper to catch on fire. Coraline threw the letter in a trash can and watched the fire crinkled it into ash. She tried to suppress the thought that his letter reminded her of their first date, when she asked him to meet her at her house at the same time.

•••

A/N: THE BONDING CEREMONY IS UP NEXT LAID EASE!!!!!!!!!! PLEASE EXCUSE MY HORRIBLY WRITTEN SMUT WHEN I POST IT THX

I SNORTED SO LOUD @ THIS LMAOOOO IT IS MIDNIGHT AS I EDIT THIS