Chapter 4: Naked Shall You Return

Daniel stood before her, a worn paperback resting in one gloved hand.

“The Scarlet Letter. Ever read it?”

Ariana stared at the book, tears blurring her vision. She barely managed a shake of her head.

“It follows a woman named Hester Prynne,” he said. “She committed adultery, became pregnant, and was forced to wear a scarlet letter 'A' across her chest. A mark everyone could see.”

He looked at her almost wistfully. 

“People understood consequences back then.”

“Daniel...” Ariana's voice cracked.

“But now?” He smiled faintly. “People cheat. They lie. They destroy families, then convince themselves everyone should simply move on.”

He closed the book and set it neatly on the table.

Father hated dog-eared pages. Books deserved respect. So did rituals.

He walked behind Ariana, fingertips grazing lightly across her bare back.

She flinched violently.

“Your husband loved you,” Daniel said.

Ariana squeezed her eyes shut.

“Didn't he?”

“Yes,” she whispered. 

“And it wasn't enough.”

“It wasn't...” She swallowed hard. “It wasn't like that. You don’t understand. Please…”

“People like you always say that.” His voice remained gentle. Almost patient.

“Look, Daniel, you don't have to do this,” Ariana pleaded. “Please, I’m begging you.”

Keep him talking.

Just keep him talking.

“This is a mistake and you know it. But if you let me go, I won't tell anyone.”

“You really think so?” Daniel looked genuinely puzzled. “But you've already told lies. So many lies. To your husband. To yourself. Even to the man whose marriage you helped destroy.”

“I told you. I wasn’t like that. It’s not that fucking simple.”

“So what is it with Michael?” He tilted his head as if genuinely trying to understand.

Ariana's face drained of color.

“He told you he was going to leave his wife.” Daniel's voice remained calm. “That they hadn't shared a bed in almost a year. That he only stayed because of the children. He complained about spending weekends at home because she always wanted to 'pretend they were still a family.' Remember? That's what he said.”

Ariana stared at him, unable to breathe.

“He promised you'd spend Christmas together once the divorce was finalized.” Daniel studied her expression with quiet curiosity.

And her stomach twisted because those weren't things someone could guess. He knew details. Real details. He hadn't chosen her randomly. He was telling the truth when he'd been watching.

“You bought all those,” Daniel continued softly. “And you simply believed the rules no longer applied to you.”

He stepped closer. Bare feet against the cold concrete. Drying blood streaked across his pale skin. His eyes never left hers.

“You have to understand that I don't enjoy this,” he said and he wanted to mean it.

Father warned him about men who enjoyed killing. Those men weren't cleansing anything. They were feeding themselves.

“But what I am doing is mercy.”

Ariana tried twisting away. Pain exploded through her shoulders. She cried out.

Daniel frowned slightly. Too much strain. He adjusted the rope just enough to ease the pressure.

“There. That should be better.”

Ariana stared at him in disbelief.

He had just... made her more comfortable. The realization terrified her more than the pain.

“You were chosen,” Daniel continued. “There are qualifications. I'm not God. I don't decide who sins. I only answer when sin refuses to.”

“No...” she sobbed. “Please… I have children.”

“Oh, I know, Ariana.”

“My husband—”

“I know.”

“I never wanted—”

“I know.”

His answers came calmly. One after another. As though he'd already seen this moment played out so many times.

“I’ve already told you, haven’t I? They're always different,” he murmured. “And somehow they're always exactly the same.”

Ariana felt panic rising in her throat because he wasn't listening. Nothing she said mattered.

She forced herself to breathe to think.

His eyes drifted to her left hand. Her fingers kept curling toward the empty space where her wedding ring had once rested.

Interesting. Guilt lived inside habit.

“I wasn't unhappy,” she whispered desperately.

Daniel looked at her. “No?”

“I was just...” She stopped. Whatever came next sounded pathetic even inside her own head.

Daniel nodded. “Exactly.”

He walked toward the metal table. Every knife lay perfectly straight. He ran a finger along their handles.

Father always said disorder led to mistakes. Mistakes created unnecessary suffering.

Daniel selected a single knife. It wasn’t the biggest and not the smallest either but he knew it’d do the job..

“You came into this world naked,” he said quietly. “And you'll leave the same way. Stripped of every lie you've wrapped around yourself.”

He unfolded a clean strip of cloth.

“No...” Ariana's breathing quickened. “Please don't.”

She looked toward the only door again. It was still closed and most likely locked from inside.

Daniel gently pressed the cloth between her teeth and tied it behind her head. “There. You'll breathe more easily through your nose.”

His kindness felt monstrous.

He stepped back. Knife resting loosely in one hand.

“Do you know,” he said conversationally, “what happens right before death?”

Ariana shook her head frantically.

“The eyes tell the truth first. They always do. There’ll be no pretending. No excuses. No lies. Just acceptance.” He smiled faintly. “I've always found that beautiful.”

Fresh tears streamed down Ariana's cheeks. She pulled desperately against the ropes. Her wrists screamed. Her shoulders burned.

The ropes didn't move.

Daniel watched quietly.

She was trying to survive which was sensible as most people did.

“I wish I could tell you this won't hurt.” His voice softened. “But honesty matters.”

He stepped forward. The knife flashed once beneath the flickering light. Then he drove it into the side of her neck.

Blood erupted.

Ariana convulsed violently. Her muffled scream dissolved into choking. Her legs kicked helplessly against empty air.

Daniel stepped back, giving her room. He was waiting, watching as the panic slowly left Ariana’s eyes filled with confusion, weakness

Then stillness followed. Her pupils widened.

And there it was. That single moment when the body surrendered after the soul already knew.

Daniel closed his eyes. A slow breath escaped him.

Father had been right. The eyes never lied.

When he opened them again, Ariana hung motionless. The basement became quiet.

Two hours later, everything was clean again. The floor had been washed. The tools returned to their places. The ropes coiled neatly.

Daniel scrubbed his hands beneath cold running water until no trace of blood remained. He dried them carefully. 

Then he slid Ariana's file into place. Names already filled the drawer.

He reached for a fresh folder. Inside waited photographs. A university campus. A coffee shop. A subway platform.

The face in every picture remained hidden beneath the stack.

Daniel picked up a pen.

Across the tab, he slowly wrote:

NEXT.