The Backlash Of My Scars

The countdown is at seventy-two hours. In my eyes, these people have been dead to me for a long timerotting from the inside out, stained beyond redemption.

It happened on April Fools Day. To coax a smile out of their precious golden boy, my fianc and my sister decided to turn me into a literal plaything.

Toby, the boy they brought home to replace me, laughed as he shredded my clothes. He took a tube of lipstick and scrawled the word BITCH across my forehead in jagged, crimson strokes. When I didn't reactwhen I just stood there, hollow and stillhe lost interest in the art and delivered a brutal kick to my chest, sending me spiraling backward into the septic tank.

When they finally fished me out, the air was thick with the sound of shutters clicking. A crowd of onlookers held up their phones, their mocking laughter sharp as needles. My sister, Madeline, stood a hundred yards away, pressing a silk handkerchief to her nose with a look of pure loathing. She wouldn't even come near me.

Toby looked at me with that practiced, wide-eyed innocence. Happy April Fools, Gavin!

My fianc, Sasha, stepped in front of him, shielding him as if he were the victim. Her voice was breezy, dismissive. It was just a joke, Gavin. Dont be so dramatic. Dont take it to heart.

She signaled a nearby gardener to turn the high-pressure power washer on me. The jet of icy water slammed into my ribs, knocking me into the dirt. I curled into a ball, my skin turning a bruised, sickly purple from the cold, but I didn't make a sound.

By morning, the video of menaked, shivering, and covered in filthhad gone viral within our social circles. Madeline blamed me for "tarnishing the family brand" and dragging Tobys name through the mud. She threw my meager belongings onto the driveway and told me to get out. Sasha followed suit, publicly breaking our engagement. "A woman of my standing can't be tied to a man with such a... public stain on his character," she said coldly.

I just nodded. I didn't argue.

They all thought I was playing a partthe stoic martyr, faking composure to make them feel guilty. They had no idea I was just counting the seconds.

In the courtyard, my fathers belt whistled through the air before snapping against my back.

Shameless! Disgusting! You are a cancer on this family!

I didnt explain. I just gritted my teeth and took it. Experience had taught me that defending myself only made the beatings last longer.

I had only been back in this house for a few weeks when it started. Toby had accused me of stealing his Patek Philippe. My parents tore my room apart; Madeline stripped me in front of the household staff to search my person.

They found nothing.

I thought I might get an apology. Instead, Madeline backhanded me so hard a tooth rattled loose in my mouth. You must have sold it already! Wheres the money, you little thief?

My room was the size of a closet. I didnt even have a bank account. When I tried to speak, she kicked me until I coughed up blood.

Then, Toby let out a choreographed gasp. Oh! Here it is. It was under the rug.

The diamond-encrusted watch caught the sunlight, blindingly bright. I looked at Madeline, waiting for a flicker of regret. There was none. She just smoothed her skirt and said, A minor misunderstanding. Get over it. Im Tobys sister; I trust him implicitly.

She knew she was Tobys sister. She just seemed to have forgotten she was mine, too.

Now, in the courtyard, the belt continued to fall. My skin was a roadmap of angry red welts. Madeline stood by, watching with bored eyes. She was the one who had encouraged Toby to humiliate me, yet she hated me for the "scandal" it caused. She told me to rot in the street.

Youre leaving? my father roared, his face puce with rage. You want to go out there and embarrass us more? No. Youll stay here and learn your place.

After two hours of the "family discipline," my mother finally looked up from her tea, frowning. Enough, Adam. Its unsightly. Let him crawl to the shrine, do ninety-nine prostrations, and write a ten-thousand-word confession in his own blood. Then well consider the matter closed.

My father tossed the belt aside, huffing. Youre too soft on him.

Soft. I almost wanted to laugh.

The prostrations had to be audibleforehead hitting the stone floor hard enough to echo, or they didn't count. The confession had to be written with a needle and a steady supply of my own veins. If it wasn't sincere enough, theyd make me start over.

I didn't argue. I banged my head against the stone until I blacked out, woke up when they splashed ice water on me, and kept going. I wrote twenty thousand words, each letter a drop of my life, a testament to a humility I didn't truly feel. I thought it would be enough.

Toby walked in, covering his nose and taking a theatrical step back. Ugh, Madeline. Its not that I dont want him in the house, but... he smells like a sewer.

Madeline ruffled his hair affectionately, then spared me a sideways glance. Youre right. Hes not fit for the servants quarters. Put him in the pit with Apollo.

Apollo was Tobys pet Burmese python. And I have a paralyzing, primal fear of snakes.

I remembered the day the police brought me home. Toby had looked at me with that same disgust back then. Madeline hadn't put me in the snake pit thenshed just forced me to sleep in the dog crate. The Golden Retrievers crate was actually larger than the room I eventually got, and as long as Toby didn't give the command, the dog didn't bite. I could almost sleep there.

But the snake pit? I couldn't do it.

I collapsed at my parents' feet, sobbing, my forehead bleeding onto the carpet. Please, Mom, Dad... Ill leave. Ill go back to the dog crate. Just please, dont put me in there.

For a second, I saw a flicker of hesitation in my fathers eyes. He started to open his mouth, but Madeline lunged forward, grabbing me by the collar.

Stop faking it, Gavin! If it weren't for you, this family wouldn't be a laughingstock! You should be grateful were giving you a roof at all.

She dragged me toward the glass-enclosed habitat in the back of the house. I looked back at my father one last time.

He looked away.

The stench of musk and rot inside the pit made me gag. I felt the dry, rhythmic flick of a tongue against my cheek. As I closed my eyes, waiting for the end, a cold, mechanical voice echoed in my mind:

Countdown to completion: Forty-eight hours.

Suddenly, the panic subsided. I forced my breathing to slow. Two days. I just had to survive two more days.

Three years ago, Toby had developed a stomach ache after dinner. Hed pointed a trembling finger at me, accusing me of lacing his food with laxatives. Before I could even process the lie, Madeline had pinned me down and forced a whole bottle of castor oil down my throat.

I spent that night huddled on the bathroom floor, cramping so hard I wished for death. The family didn't check on me; they were all at the hospital, holding Tobys hand. In that moment of near-death, the voice first appeared.

Host vitals dropping. Emergency binding: Retribution System initiated. Task: Survive for three years. Success: Total karmic backlash for tormentors, 0-000 million cash reward. Failure: Soul erasure.

I thought it was a hallucination. But when I woke up the next morning, the pain was gone, and the timer was running. I became a ghost in that housesilent, compliant, waiting.

I focused on memories of nature documentaries, trying to stay perfectly still. The python slithered over my legs, its scales cold and heavy. Outside the glass, Toby was holding Sashas hand, a cruel smirk on his face.

Look at him, Sasha. Your 'fianc' is so pathetic hes shacking up with a snake. Do you feel bad for him?

Sasha didn't even look at me. She was scrolling through her phone. Don't be silly. I don't have a fianc. That contract was trash the moment he fell into the pit.

Even now, that hurt. Sasha was differentor she used to be. We grew up together in the state orphanage. When she arrived, she had a broken leg and a spirit so crushed she wouldn't eat. I protected her. I stole food for her. I took the beatings from the older boys so they wouldn't mess with her.

One winter, a group of bullies took her crutches to use as firewood. I tackled them, and they tied me to a tree in the middle of a blizzard, using me as a target for ice-packed snowballs. My nose was broken, blood staining the white snow. Sasha held me all night after I was cut down, her tears warm against my frozen skin.

Gavin, she had whispered. When I grow up, Im going to protect you. I promise.

I believed her. When the police found my real familythe wealthy, prestigious family Id been snatched fromthe first thing I did was use my leverage to find her biological family. It turned out she was an illegitimate daughter, dumped by a family that didn't want the scandal. I begged my parents to arrange an engagement, to give her a path back into high society.

Madeline called me pathetic for wanting a girl so soon after coming home. I knelt in the rain for seven days, fasting, until my knees were raw, just to get that signature on a marriage contract.

The day I picked her up from the orphanage, she cried and held me. Gavin, as soon as Im settled, Im yours.

But she never became mine. She tore up the contract in front of everyone. She handed me over to Toby to be mocked.

When did it change? Maybe it was the first time Toby called her "Big Sister Sasha." He was polished, clean, and knew exactly how to play the "wounded bird" better than I ever could.

Hed lean into her and whisper, You only agreed to marry Gavin because you felt obligated, right? It must be such a burden.

And she never disagreed.

Once, at a gala, I drank until my stomach bled to protect her from a group of aggressive investors. I collapsed in the hallway, and she just stepped over me. Youre embarrassing me, Gavin, shed said.

I tried to talk about our wedding, about rings. Shed just pluck a blade of grass from the lawn, wrap it around my finger, and laugh. Theres your ring. Then, an hour later, shed spend six figures at an auction to buy a watch for Toby.

I asked her once, Sasha, do you remember the orphanage? Do you remember the tree?

She laugheda sound so full of mockery I didn't recognize her. Gavin, are you seriously bringing that up again? Yes, you helped me. And youve used that debt to anchor me to you for years. Isnt that enough?

Anchor her? I had sacrificed everything for her future.

Lets be real, she continued. You only wanted this marriage because youre the unloved son. You knew no one else would have you, so you clung to me. Youre just desperate for someone to belong to.

Something inside me finally shattered.

Tobys laughter snapped me back to the present. Sasha, dont be so mean. He was your boyfriend for a decade.

Sasha sneered. A boyfriend? He was a charity project that went on too long.

I took a deep breath and whispered to the system, Does betrayal count toward the backlash?

Affirmative. Every ounce of pain the Host feels will be reflected. But only if you survive the final countdown.

Toby tapped on the glass, looking annoyed. This is boring. Hes not moving. He looks like a corpse, and Apollo doesn't like dead things. He tugged on Sashas arm. Sasha, get him out of there. I want to see him cry.

Sasha hesitated for a fraction of a second, then nodded. She hauled me out of the pit. The sudden sunlight was blinding.

Toby wants to see tears, she said, her voice flat, devoid of heat.

I didn't move.

Toby picked up a piece of coarse sandpaper from a nearby workbench. He started rubbing it against my cheek with a terrifyingly sweet smile. Does it hurt now, Gavin? Can you cry now?

My face was raw, bleeding, but my eyes were bone dry. Sasha lost her patience and kicked me in the shoulder. I fell back, my head cracking against the concrete.

Cry! she demanded, looming over me. When I stayed silent, she kicked me againhard, in the ribs. I dry-heaved, the air knocked out of me. I wanted to live, but I couldn't force a sob.

I slowly pushed myself up into a kneeling position. I bowed my head until it touched the ground. Im sorry.

Toby blinked, then chuckled. What is he doing? Why is he apologizing?

Thats just Gavin, a voice said from the doorway. Madeline. She walked over, her face twisted in its habitual mask of disgust. This is how he lives. You hit him, he kneels. You scream at him, he bows. Hes a dog.

Tobys eyes lit up. Really? Then make him bark.

Madeline looked at me, her expression dead. Did you hear him? Bark for Toby.

I was on my knees in the dirt. These three stood over me, framed by the golden afternoon sun like icons of grace, while I sat in the shadows, smelling of the pit. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.

Madelines face darkened. She grabbed a handful of my hair and yanked my head back. Bark!

The pain was searing. I had to stand on my tiptoes just to keep my scalp from tearing. I looked into her eyes. She was my sister. When we were children, a kidnapper had tried to grab her. I was the one who threw myself at his legs, screaming for her to run. He had picked me up and slammed me into the ground, leaving me for dead in a ditch. I spent two months in a makeshift hospital, barely holding on.

Woof. Woof. My voice was barely a whisper.

Toby pouted. Thats not convincing at all. He needs a tail.

He told Sasha to get a length of heavy nylon rope. Madeline tied one end around my waist and handed the other to Toby.

Crawl, she commanded. Wherever Toby leads, you follow.

I didn't move. She kicked the back of my knee, and I collapsed. I began to crawl. The gravel dug into my palms.

Slow down, Sasha said from behind. Dont let Toby trip.

Toby led me through the mud, up the stone steps, laughing like a child. When we were far enough away from the others, he leaned down, whispering in my ear.

I hate you, Gavin. I want you dead. Do you know why? Years ago, when you escaped that basement, you went to the police. You gave them the evidence that sent my father to prison for life.

My heart hammered against my ribs. The kidnapper. The man who had kept twenty children in a cellar. I had watched him kill a six-year-old girl because she wouldn't stop crying. He told us, Anyone else wants to go play with her?

I had jumped into a river to escape him while he pelted me with rocks. I nearly drowned.

And my parents had adopted his son. My sister adored him. My fianc chose him.

Im not afraid of you telling, Toby hissed. No one believes a dog. I just wanted you to know how much I enjoy watching you rot.

He laughed, and something inside me snapped. I lunged upward, grabbing the rope and looping it around his throat.

Your father was a murderer! I screamed, my eyes burning. That girl was six years old!

Toby hadn't expected me to fight back. He flailed, his face turning a panicked shade of red.

GAVIN!

A roar came from behind me. Before I could turn, I was ripped away and slammed into the ground. Sasha put her boot on my chest, pressing down until I felt my ribs groan.

Youre insane! she hissed.

His father was a monster I choked out.

SLAP.

Madelines hand caught me across the face. I tasted copper.

We checked Tobys records before we adopted him, she said, her voice dripping with contempt. Hes clean. If youre going to lie, at least try to be believable.

Its not a lie! I shrieked. Check the records from six years ago! The man named Miller

Gavin, Sasha said, her foot pressing harder. I used to think you were just pathetic. Now I see youre malicious.

Toby rubbed his neck, squeezing out a few crocodile tears. If you hadn't come... he would have killed me.

Madelines eyes turned murderous. She dragged me toward the back corner of the estate, where an old piece of construction equipment sata heavy wooden pallet riddled with rusted, six-inch nails, once used to deter trespassers.

Throw him on it.

Before I could process what was happening, Madeline and Sasha hoisted me up and slammed me down onto the bed of nails.

The screams that tore from my throat didn't sound human. The rusted iron pierced my back, my shoulders, my thighs. Blood surged from a hundred punctures, soaking the wood instantly. I tried to thrash, but the barbs held me fast, grinding into my muscle with every movement.

Think about what youve done, Madeline said. Then they walked away.

I lay there as the sun dipped below the horizon. Every breath was a fresh agony. My vision began to fray at the edges.

The system's voice sounded like it was coming from the bottom of a well.

Host vitals critical... final countdown initiated...

I bit through my lip, using the pain to stay conscious for the last few seconds.

Finally, the voice chimed, clear and sweet:

Congratulations, Host. Three-year term complete. Calculating retribution rewards...