"If you're immortal, then how did you still age?" “237. That’s how many candles are used in the ritual. You know why that is, Kansas?” I shook my head. He held up two fingers. “Two lives, three times seven. Twenty-one.” “What?” He laughed dryly and shrugged. “I don’t know, man. It was written down in my dad’s lunatic ramblings he called his bible. Either way, it was true. I aged and was able to be hurt until my 21st birthday. Ever since then, nothing.” He stabbed the knife into his thigh and removed it, only for us to watch it heal.
