CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR - RILEY

The Dallon household was so… clean. That was the first thing Riley noticed as she stood on the neat brick path leading to their front door, her gloved hands folded politely in front of her apron. The garden was pristine, each flower bed manicured with the kind of care that spoke of boring Sunday afternoons spent trimming hedges. It was charming, in a sterile, suburban way—almost like stepping into one of her old memories, before Jack and the others had found her. Before she’d become Bonesaw.

She tilted her head, letting her curls bounce, and knocked on the door. The sound was a light tap-tap-tap, polite and cheerful. The kind of knock that said, Hi! I’m here to change your life forever.

The door opened a few moments later, and there she was: Amy Dallon, her hair tied back in a messy bun, wearing an oversized sweater that swallowed her arms. She looked older than Bonesaw had expected, her face lined with exhaustion and something heavier—guilt, maybe? Interesting.

Amy blinked, clearly taken aback by the sight of the little girl on her doorstep. “Uh, can I help you?”

Bonesaw smiled wide, tilting her head just a touch to the side. “Hi! Are you Amy Dallon? Panacea?”

Amy frowned. “Yeah. Who’s asking?”

“Oh, I’m Riley. Some people call me Bonesaw.” She said it casually, like she was introducing herself at a playground, and then she giggled when Amy’s face drained of color.

Amy stepped back, one hand instinctively rising to her chest. “You’re… what are you doing here?” Her voice wavered, but Bonesaw could hear the steel underneath. Brave girl.

“I came to talk to you, silly.” Bonesaw clasped her hands behind her back, rocking on her heels. “You’re so fascinating, Amy. The things you can do with your powers… I’ve been watching you for a while now. Did you know that?”

Amy said nothing, her eyes darting toward the staircase inside the house. Bonesaw guessed she was considering whether she could call for help before Bonesaw did something terrible.

Bonesaw sighed, pretending to pout. “Don’t worry, I’m not here to hurt you. Or your family. Not unless you make me, anyway.” She leaned in closer, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “But I do have an offer for you.”

“What kind of offer?” Amy’s voice was tight, her hands trembling at her sides.

Bonesaw beamed. “A chance to join my family. The Nine. You’d be perfect, you know. We’ve never had someone like you before, someone who can do the things you can. You’d be my big sister!” She clapped her hands together. “Doesn’t that sound fun?”

Amy stared at her, horrified. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe!” Bonesaw chirped. “But think about it. You’d never have to feel guilty again. You wouldn’t have to worry about what’s ‘right’ or ‘wrong.’ You could just… be. Do whatever you wanted, without anyone judging you. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

Amy’s face twisted, her disgust warring with something else—curiosity, maybe. Or temptation. Bonesaw didn’t blame her. People like Amy always had that little spark of darkness in them, waiting to be fanned into a flame.

“I’m not interested,” Amy said finally, her voice firm despite the fear in her eyes. “You should leave. Now.”

Bonesaw tilted her head, studying her. “Are you sure? I mean, I’d hate to leave without showing you something cool.”

Before Amy could respond, Bonesaw stepped aside with a flourish, revealing what she’d been hiding behind her.

A figure stumbled forward, a patchwork abomination looming over her like a nightmare-given form. Murder Rat’s blackened skin, human-like eyes, and grotesquely elongated, blade-like fingers seemed to glow under the warm glow of the sun. The faint drool from her extended jaw only added to the unsettling tableau.

Amy’s breath caught.

“This is Murder Rat,” Bonesaw said cheerily, gesturing to the monstrosity with the proud smile of a child showing off her favorite toy. “Say hello, dear.”

Murder Rat let out a wet, rattling hiss that sounded like laughter.

Bonesaw could hear Amy’s heart pound in her chest, could see her gaze flicker to Murder Rat, taking in the stitched skin and jagged metal framework that jutted out from her emaciated frame. 

“You made her from two people,” Amy whispered, horrified.

Bonesaw’s smile widened. “You’ve got a sharp eye! Mouse Protector and Ravager were such good material, and now they’re better together than they ever were apart. Family is everything, after all. I thought you might appreciate that, Amy.”

“Why?” Amy asked, her voice barely steady.

Bonesaw’s expression shifted, becoming almost earnest. “I see the potential in you. Your power, your skill… I could teach you things you’ve never imagined. Together, we could create beauty like the world has never seen.”

“You’re sick,” Amy said, her voice shaking. “This isn’t love. This isn’t family.”

Bonesaw’s cheerful mask cracked for a fraction of a second, revealing something dark and raw beneath.

“Maybe not,” Bonesaw said, her voice dropping just slightly, letting that quiet ache bleed through. Just enough for her to hear. Enough to plant a seed. “But it’s what I have. And it’s better than nothing.”

She stepped closer to Amy, her hands clasped in front of her like the little sister she could have been. Like Bonesaw wanted Amy to see her. “Don’t you ever feel like you’re not enough, Amy? Like you’re trapped by what everyone expects of you?” she tilted her head, her voice almost conspiratorial. “I can help you break free of that. Together, we can build something… perfect.”

Amy’s breath caught, and Bonesaw smiled. There it was. That hesitation, that crack in her armor. The tiny opening where doubt and longing slipped through.

Slowly, Bonesaw reached into her apron pocket. She felt the scalpel’s weight, cool and familiar against her fingers. Amy flinched, and it made Bonesaw grin. Of course, she expected something nasty—poison, a syringe, another little surprise to ruin her evening. But no. This was better.

Bonesaw drew the scalpel out and held it toward her, handle-first.

“Fix him,” Bonesaw said simply, gesturing toward Murder Rat with a wave of her other hand. “You can do it. I know you can.”

She watched Amy then, savoring every flicker of emotion across her face. Shock. Confusion. Revulsion. Her eyes darted toward Murder Rat, and Bonesaw knew she was already dissecting her masterpiece with her mind. Amy couldn’t help herself—her power was alive, eager to reach out, to explore, to know.

Bonesaw saw the moment she understood, the moment she realized exactly what had been done to make Murder Rat. The delicate stitching of Mouse Protector and Ravager, the layers of bone marrow and viruses, the perfect fusion of two lives into something entirely new. Something extraordinary.

Her expression shifted, and Bonesaw could feel her struggling with it. Fix Murder Rat? Undo everything Bonesaw had worked so hard to create? It would mean unmaking Murder Rat, unravelling her like thread. Amy was horrified, but there was something else there, too—curiosity.

But then Amy shook her head and stepped back, her voice firm but trembling. “I won’t.”

Bonesaw let out an exaggerated sigh, slipping the scalpel back into her pocket with the practiced ease of disappointment. “Shame,” she said, pouting just a little. “I thought you’d be braver.”

Bonesaw felt the tension rise between them as she let her words linger. Amy was cracking, but not fast enough. No, she needed a push. Something sharp to cut through that thick skin of hers.

Bonesaw smiled, wide and bright. “Maybe you’ll find your courage with a little… incentive.”

The snap of her fingers was crisp, decisive. Murder Rat moved instantly with an almost feral scream, her blades gleaming as they caught the light. 

Bonesaw didn’t watch Amy’s face—she already knew what she’d see. Instead, she watched Murder Rat and felt a flicker of pride. She was beautiful, wasn’t she? Her family always did their best work under pressure.