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The door slams behind him, rattling the universe as he leaves me to my nightmares.
29
TAYLOR
Time has no meaning. I’m floating on a sea of terrors. At first, it’s just nightmare fuel—giant spiders, stinging jellyfish, ravens who scream and caw and try and peck my eyes out.
But then the nightmare evolves.
It gets worse.
I see friends staggering into the room, blood pouring from their faces. Gabriel screams for help, trying to hold the gash on his face closed as his other hand tries to keep his brains from spilling out of the massive hole in the side of his head.
Fumi rushes to him. But suddenly a giant sword stabs through her heart from behind. I sob and cry out, shaking and hugging myself and screaming as her body falls to the ground, revealing Kenzo standing behind her.
You’re on drugs. This is just a bad acid trip.
You’re safe.
You’re okay.
Except the mantras don’t work. I’m not okay. I am not fucking safe.
…Neither is Drazen.
Another sob wrenches my body as Alistair staggers past me, holding his severed arm in his good hand. The floor opens up beneath him, and I start to cry uncontrollably as the massive jaws of some monstrous beast bite him in two and drag his bottom half into the pit.
I whirl, and my throat releases wrenching sobs as Drazen materializes in front of me.
His face and his body are riddled with a hundred slowly bleeding bullet holes as his eyes lock with mine.
“What have you done,” he roars, charging toward me. Right before he gets to me, I scream when he shatters into a thousand shards of bloody glass. I flinch and hug the floor, shaking and crying as the terrors rip through me.
A hand lands on my shoulder. A soft touch slips under my arm to pull me gently from the floor.
“You have to get up. Get up, Taylor.”
“I can’t,” I choke to the nightmare.
“You have to,” the voice hisses, more urgently. “GET. UP.”
I look up, and my face goes numb. This time, it’s not any of my friends looking at me with blood all over them.
It’s me.
I stare at the dream reflection, my red hair matted with blood that trickles down the side of my face. There’s more on my arms and hands, and still more splattered over my shirt.
“Get up, Taylor,” I say to me. “I can save you.”
“I—I can’t leave this room?—”
“Do you want to save him?” I hiss, peering into my own face.
I start to cry helplessly again, nodding my head.
“Of course.”
“Then come with me, Taylor. Trust me.”
