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I slip inside the library quietly while Karine’s at the far end of the nonfiction section with her back turned to me, speaking with someone.
Sliding into a chair in front of a computer, I reach for the headphones as the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I struggle to keep my breathing calm, even though my heart nearly beats its way out of my chest.
A prickle of unease grows tenfold, spreading along my skin like icy tentacles, when I cast a glance around the library. It’s what has me pressing my thumb and finger together.
Once the eerie silence falls over the library, I breathe a little easier. Closing my eyes, I draw in a breath before exhaling slowly.
On an instinctive level, knowing it will soothe me, I remember the last time I was here. With Daniel. Warmth spreads through me at the mere thought of him.
He’s such an odd contradiction—arrogant bossiness contrasting with the tender way he holds me. The way we go back and forth, giving each other shit, but when it comes down to it, he’s done what no one else ever has.
He’s taken care of me. Willingly. Affectionately, even.
Attempting to cleanse my mind so I’ll hopefully make some progress with this, I force aside thoughts of Daniel and put on the headphones.
With a purposeful touch of my right hand to the computer, it disengages from its paused state. Screen lighting up, it casts out an eerie glow, illuminating the keyboard.
My fingers fly across the keys a moment later, and a few clicks is all it takes before I’ve started the self-guided hypnosis meditation. Doing my best to maintain steady, calm breaths, I listen to the commands piping through the headphones and focus on the visuals displayed on the screen.
My vision grows hazy at the edges, giving way to something I can’t quite decipher.
“What do you see?” a man’s voice prompts.
“A knife.” My response is confident.
“Good.” His tone is pleased, and a sense of pride fills me. “What about this?”
My answer is swift. “A knife covered in someone’s blood.”
“That’s right. And you used that knife to eliminate someone. How does that make you feel?”
“Proud. Happy.” The words emerge from my lips without a hesitation while my mind fractures, debilitating pain battering away at me.
No! Make it stop! The voice crying out in my head is deafening. I clamp my hands over my ears and close my eyes with a whimper.
“Focus!” he commands sternly.
But I can’t. It hurts too much. Voices erupt in the background, sounding muted compared to the loud complaints from the voice in my head.
“Her heart rate is plummeting!”
“She’s convulsing! Get the restraints on her!”
My body jerks violently and my surroundings fade, giving way to a sudden peace that blankets me.
In the next moment, I find myself staring around a white room.
I rise from the chair and walk over to a mirror, staring at myself in the reflection. I don’t recognize the person. How did I get these scars?
My reflection wavers like rippling water, morphing to another face I don’t recognize. A young man in a polo shirt and khaki pants stares back at me in absolute horror.
“Stop! Don’t do this!” he cries out, scrambling away from me. There’s a flash in my vision, and suddenly I’m staring at his dead body lying sprawled on the floor, a pool of blood surrounding him.
It’s as though my lungs are filled with water instead of air, and I struggle to catch my breath. The man’s body fades, and another face materializes. This time, it’s a woman in a white lab coat.
She stares at me like I’m a monster. “You don’t have to do this! Please!” The desperation in her voice rolls off me without any effect. I’m numb to feeling anything.
I beat her until her body’s limp and lifeless. What have you done? a tiny voice whispers in the far recesses of my mind, but I ignore it.
