Page 70 of Desecrated Saints
“Theo?” I gasp.
His blue eyes and soft, boyish features peer down at me behind his glasses, framed by dense, blonde curls. He’s dressed in another flannel shirt and tee, with an ID badge swinging from his neck. My mouth opens and shuts like a dead fish. I feel like my vocal chords have been severed.
“No need to panic. I won’t hurt you.”
“W-Where?”
“Somewhere safe,” he confirms.
His words ring true, but my panic is too far gone. Moving lightning fast, I throw my entire body weight into him. He yelps and crashes to the floor in a heap. Before he can hurt me, I fall back on months of fighting to survive, and strike him right in the temple.
Theo slumps with a gasp of pain, his skinny limbs hanging limp and useless. Across the room, Hudson resumes his sarcastic clapping. The voice of my abuser has gone, but Teegan still lashes me with her angry stare. My heart stops when two more figures rise from the bed.
“Better run, love,” Kade warns. “She’s coming.”
Eli stares without words, a trail of blood running from the corner of his mouth. I watch in horror as deep stab wounds appear in all of their bodies. Invisible knives shred the people I love, slashing every bit of skin. Throats, arms, wrists. A tsunami of blood approaches.
Run, little Brooke.
Run from Mummy.
I’m going to catch you.
I tear through the ajar door, leaving Theo’s unconscious body behind. An endless, dull corridor with thick carpet greets me, lit by corporate lighting. Bearing right, I run like my life depends on it. The ghosts are going to swallow me whole if I don’t fucking run.
A warren of corridors and empty offices beckons me deeper into the building, with the fires of insanity licking at my heels. I think I can hear someone shouting in the distance, but they’re trapped in another dimension and unable to reach me.
I’m too distracted by the ghosts hunting me down to notice the person waiting to capture me. My entire body smacks into something tall, hard, and terrifying. Thick, trunk-like legs give way to an impossibly huge, barrel chest and arms with enough muscle to lift a truck single-handedly.
Two hands clamp down on my arms.
The low, throaty grumble of a beast makes me freeze.
“Stop right there, kiddo.”
“No! Let me go, Logan!” I scream.
“What are you talking about?”
I’m too disorientated to stop the onslaught of memories from overwhelming me in quick flashes. Logan standing on that godforsaken beach. His body heat curled around mine. Counting sheep in the dead of night. Standing between me and fists. His blood painting the elusive art of death in red ink.
“Jesus, Brooklyn. Stop fighting me.”
“No! Let me go!”
The mountain captures me in his arms like a bloodthirsty spider in its web. I let out another scream and fight back until I’m tossed over his shoulder, with strong arms clamping down on my legs.
“I need a pay rise for this shit,” he grumbles.
The world hangs upside down as he angrily stomps down another long corridor, taking several sharp turns before thumping up a flight of stairs. On the next level, he swipes a pass and bursts into what looks like an office. I catch the blur of several bodies all rushing to stand.
“What the hell, Enzo?” Someone exclaims.
“I caught her attempting to flee the building.”
“You have to let me go.” I smash my fists into his back. “Teegan’s coming for me… and Hudson, Kade, Eli. It isn’t safe… the ghosts are going to get me. I need to run!”
“Blackbird? We’re right here.”