Page 11 of Monster's Obsession

I couldn’t open my eyes, though, to figure out where we were. I was still stuck inside my skull, my world somehow still managing to spin even with my eyes closed.

Tempest lay me down softly on the moist ground, and I heard the sound of him moving away.

Was he just leaving me here? I couldn’t even fucking call after him. He couldn’t leave me here like this.

I couldn’t imagine a worse way to die than being trapped in the dark, the never-ending pain driving me mad.

My insides shivered as something freezing cold suddenly pressed against my face. I hadn’t even heard him come back thanks to my dark thoughts.

“You’re burning up,” he murmured, and I relaxed…as much as one could in this state…because he hadn’t left me. “It’s going to take a minute to get the antidote ready. I’ll be right back.”

I didn’t want him to go away from me. He felt like my lifeline, the only thing keeping me alive, and the irrational part of me was sure that as soon as he stepped away from me again, I’d die.

But I couldn’t speak or move…so I couldn’t exactly tell him that. All I could do was listen to his footsteps fade away and pray he’d come back.

There were a pair of eyes staring at me underneath my eyelids. Rationally, a part of my brain realized it wasn’t possible, but everything else in my hellscape of a mind was telling me it was real. The eyes transformed into my father’s and then my mother’s, flickering back and forth between the two, except with the same hate inside both of them…the same disdain that always made me feel like a flea they desperately wished to squish. Self-loathing flushed through me, sharpening the pain in my veins. Dark thoughts swamped my brain.

I should die. I deserved to die. I was nothing but a waste of space. The whole universe would be better off without me.

Thoughts I kept locked up tight stayed with me, refusing to go back in their box. This was worse than scary demons trying to drag me to hell. Or hearing voices…or seeing shadows. This was the truth about me flayed open so I was forced to absorb it into myself.

I didn’t want to go on. Please, let it end. I begged and shouted my pleas inside my head, and just when I thought it was truly the end, that my brain couldn’t possibly keep these thoughts for a second longer without my whole body just exploding…

My mouth was wrenched open.

“This is going to stop the pain, Blake. This will make everything better.”

A warm liquid was poured into my mouth, salty and bitter at the same time. He tipped my head back and then held my mouth closed so the liquid was forced to flow down my throat. It was a miracle that it somehow didn’t end up choking me.

The effect of the liquid was instantaneous; it acted like a balm to my fucking soul as it shot through my vital organs, and veins…replacing the nightmare pain with a numbing, drugging sensation that felt like I was being dunked in a warm bath. Everything in my body felt exhausted but almost pleasurable, like the aftermath of an intense orgasm or adrenaline rush.

And it felt like a fucking miracle when I was able to blearily open my fucking eyes and move my fucking fingers.

A fucking miracle.

I stared at my surroundings in wonder…was I still hallucinating?

The sky was sparkling above me…but I could clearly see grey-tinged rock everywhere. We were in some kind of cave. But the ceiling…even though I could see the rock formations hanging down, above that I could see what appeared to be a cascade of stars, more brilliant than I could ever remember seeing in my life. There was a slice of red up there, almost looking like some kind of symbol. Was that a crown?

I tried to squint and make out what it was, but then Tempest’s face appeared in my vision, blocking out the beauty above us. Although his face was a different kind of beauty…no less majestic despite his assholish ways. “You’re going to live,” he announced…but why did he sound so conflicted about that?

I tried to speak, but my voice came out as a raspy whisper. I needed water…desperately. After failing at first to get the word out, I eventually squeaked it, and Tempest immediately darted away, returning a second later with a clay cup full of water that I was sure had dripped straight from the gods.

I’d never tasted anything so good in my entire life.

I guzzled the entire cup. “More,” I demanded, and he immediately took the cup and refilled it. This time I stared after him, and saw he was getting the deliciousness from water flowing down the wall of the cave.

He brought it over to me and I again drank it almost in one gulp. It took four refills before my throat stopped feeling like I’d stuck a flaming torch down it.

I finally sat up more and stretched. Everything was sore, like I’d run a marathon—not that I knew what that felt like from experience…but I could imagine it, thank you very much.

My gaze caught Tempest’s. He was leaning against the wall, that same conflicted gleam in his gaze as he stared at me, looking at me, but at the same time…not looking at me. More like looking through me.

“I’m feeling almost normal,” I offered…and he winced…but still said nothing.

Shaking my head because…males…I clumsily stood up, a wave of nausea hitting me from how much water I’d just guzzled down.

Irrational anger hit me. I’d been dropped outside the city by some unknown force. I’d been almost eaten by a worm from my worst nightmares. And then I’d almost died while suffering pain beyond comprehension.