The Green Sky

The storm came in from the west, rolling over the ocean like a bruise spreading across skin.

Within an hour, the temperature plummeted twenty degrees. The stifling stillness was replaced by a chaotic wind that rattled the expensive glass panes of the house.

And the sky turned green.

It wasn't a subtle shift. It was a sickly, vibrant jade color, the color of tornadoes and bad omens. The light filtering into the living room cast everything in a nauseating, underwater hue.

* When the sky turns green...*

Luca stood in the center of the room. He held the Glock 19 behind his back, tucked into the waistband of his linen trousers. The metal was cold against his sweaty skin.

The sliding door hissed open.

Dante stepped inside. He was dripping wet, his hair plastered to his skull. He was shirtless, barefoot, carrying a six-pack of cold bottles he must have pulled from the outdoor cellar.

"Storm's breaking!" Dante shouted over the wind. He kicked the door shut and grinned. "Man, the water was incredible. You missed out."

He walked toward Luca, extending a cold beer. "Here. Peace offering. I know the heat makes you crazy."

To Luca’s fevered eyes, Dante didn't look like a friend. The green light deepened the shadows in his eye sockets, making them look like hollow skulls. The water dripping from his hands looked dark, like old blood.

"Stay back," Luca whispered.

Dante stopped. His smile faltered. "Luca? You okay?"

"I saw the phone, Dante."

Dante froze. The beer bottle dangled from his fingers. "What phone?"

"The one in your bag. The one you tried to hide." Luca pulled the gun from his waistband and leveled it at Dante’s chest. His hands were trembling violently. "I saw the text. *The Lamb goes to slaughter.*"

Dante’s eyes went wide. He took a step forward, his hands raising slowly. "Luca, listen to me. Put the gun down. You're reading it wrong."

"Am I?" Luca screamed, his voice cracking. "Am I the Lamb? Am I the sacrifice so you can take the throne?"

"You're crazy. It’s the heat stroke talking." Dante took another step. "Just give me the gun, Luca. We're brothers."

"Brothers don't sell brothers!"

Thunder cracked directly overhead, a sound like the sky tearing apart. The lights in the house flickered and died.

In the sudden gloom, lit only by the green lightning, Dante lunged.

He wasn't attacking. He was reaching for the gun to disarm Luca, to save him from himself.

But Luca didn't see help. He saw the Wolf pouncing.

Luca squeezed the trigger.

* Bang.*

The sound was deafening in the glass box.

Dante jerked backward as if kicked by a mule. The beer bottle shattered on the floor. He fell hard, collapsing onto the white shag rug.

Red blood began to pool instantly, black in the dim light.