One Apocalypse (The Dark Side Book 4)

by Kristy Cunning

  They don’t answer, of course. Sucks they can’t hear or see me. It’s rather frustrating, if I’m being honest.

  “You’re a dick,” Gage says to Kai as they head toward their individual rooms.

  “Someone has to balance out your quick-draw tendencies,” Kai fires back, eyebrows bouncing.

  They grow immediately quiet and pause at one of the paintings in the hallway.

  They pause here a lot.

  I wonder sometimes if the girl in this image took their virginity. She’s quite the ho, if you ask me, considering she’s in a lot of other paintings with four very different fellows.

  I worry they’re really hung up on her, since they stop here four or five times a day. It’s another reason I’ve worked damn hard to perfect that speech of mine.

  It’s epic, if I do say so myself.

  Sighing with annoyance, I stare at the image with them, trying to suss out what was so special about her. My cheekbones are so much better than hers. I think my boobs are just a bit smaller, but they also look perkier than that girl’s.

  Our lone physical similarity is that we both have blonde hair.

  The bitch does have an ass I envy, though. I hate her a little for it. Mine is okay. Nothing special. Unless she’s sitting in these paintings, she always finds a way to give a peek of that ass.

  Terribly vain.

  This one is her running away from them, eyes stern as she looks over her shoulder like she’s decided to leave them behind, while they stand brokenly on the edge of the painting.

  In the background, there’s a blob. There’s really no other eloquent way to describe it, and I have no idea what the purpose of it is.

  It doesn’t have a plaque like all the others. I think her name is Paca, since I’ve heard them whisper it to these paintings on occasion. The plaques all have something about the apocalypse, but that makes no sense at all to me.

  Jude clears his throat, their moods visibly soured. That’s another reason I don’t know why they continue to walk through this hall and stare at these paintings, when it clearly hurts them so much.

  They look at the idiot girl, who apparently chose another harem over them, considering those other guys are in the many other paintings littering the Wall of Horror.

  Kai’s hand brushes her face on the Cleopatra painting before he whispers, “Treacherous Treasure.”

  “Just four hundred more years to go. Fucking piece of cake,” Gage says cryptically, annoyed as he stalks away.

  I have no idea what that even means.

  Even though he’s my least favorite, I don’t like seeing him hurting like this. They’re all hurting.

  It seriously makes me want to kick this girl’s ass. But I haven’t been able to find her.

  Their friend suddenly appears in the hallway, and Gage pauses, huffing as he turns back around to see what news Lamar is bringing.

  “I think it’s time,” he says, though he looks really nervous to be saying it.

  “What?” Jude asks, an edge to his tone that I don’t understand.

  “I think it’s time. Some years ago, I felt her. Different again, but I swear it’s her—”

  His words end on a gasp when Kai is suddenly shoving him against the wall with his arm pressed against Lamar’s throat.

  “What do you mean some years ago?” Kai bites out, eyes going a little crazy.

  It’s times like these I wish I had popcorn. I bet I’d love popcorn. It’s on my list of goals for if I ever become a real girl. I wish these guys would watch more freaking ghost movies.

  “Ghost Girl wants a real body so she can rock your world!” I shout to them. “If you get some, you won’t be so angry all the time! I swear! It’s what they all say in Hell!” I carry on, my words falling on ghost-deaf ears.

  Sighing, I sag back as Lamar holds his hands up and laughs nervously. Took me ages to figure out how not to sink into the floor without running in place. For whatever reason, running in place works wonders for staying above the ground, but it’s terribly annoying to do all the time.

  “Clearly I didn’t want to give you false hope, but…I think this is it. I think she’s early since you remained in Hell and…mostly lucid,” Lamar states with some hesitation toward the end.

  I wish I knew what they were saying sometimes. It feels like they’re having conversations about conversations I’ve missed, and apparently they never need any refreshers on what the other is talking about.

  “It’s not a strong feeling,” Lamar goes on. “But it is there. I’m certain of it now,” he assures them.

  “How much do you want to punch him, Four? On a scale of one to ten, I’d say at least a nine. What’s he talking about?” I ask aimlessly, certainly not getting a response.

  “So do your thing and make this work like you theorized it would,” Four finally says very impatiently.

  “I may need something to jumpstart it. Don’t hold what happens next against me,” he says tightly, clearing his throat a few times. “With any luck, being in Hell this time will produce different results than the last.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Kai asks him with a really confused expression.

  Oh, good. I thought it was just me who couldn’t follow this gibberish nonsense.

  Sometimes it sounds like English, but the words just don’t make any sense.

  My breath hitches when I see a shadow move along the wall, an eerie feeling trickling up my incorporeal spine.

  What the actual hell is going on and why do shadows always freak me out so much?

  “Look out!” I shout just as something wavers through the air and attacks them from behind, a weapon glinting in the light just in time for me to see it.

  My body seems to fly across the ground, as I dive to tackle the man before he can catch Gage off guard.

  The knife nicks my cheek, and—

  My eyes widen as I crash to the ground on top of whatever camouflaged creature this is, and my hand flies up, even as pain shoots through my entire body.

  Pain?

  The stinging on my cheek reminds me of the knife I felt, the stinging of the burn against…flesh…

  “Oh my gosh,” I say, the words coming out rasp.

  I touch my throat, squeaking when a blade suddenly slams down between my legs, stabbing through the body that’s underneath mine.

  Blood spills, and the body wavers until it’s visible, as a warm, shaky breath blows at the back of my ear.

  I feel the heat of it lick all the way down my spine, which is inconveniently giving me all the wrong feelings while I sit atop a dying body that’s writhing out the last of its life beneath me.

  I swallow thickly as I blink, struggling to see against the glare of the room.

  Someone far behind us asks, “Is that—”

  I whirl around, almost colliding with Gage, who is inches from my face, his eyes wide and slightly horrified as I touch my breasts. Holy fucking shit.

  Momma, wherever you are, I just want you to know I’m a real girl!

  “I was fucking right,” Lamar says as though he can’t believe it…from somewhere in the room.

  Gage smashes my face between his hands very suddenly, and I stiffen, because the warmth of his touch is so intoxicating that my entire body sways toward him.

  Shit, he’s my least favorite. I’m going to be putty in a sausage bowl once the other three get their hands on me.

  “It’s her…but…doesn’t look anything at all like her,” Lamar says as he pokes his head over Gage’s shoulder, his eyes going from excited to hella confused.

  “Are you sure?” Gage asks as his hands slightly tremble, his grip subtly tightening on my cheeks as I try to remain calm and not freak the hell out.

  “I’m a real girl!” I blurt, unable to help myself, startling the both of them with the really loud volume I unintentionally use.

  Hey, I’m just learning to talk to people who can hear, and I’ve been yelling for years.

  “I’m a real girl!” I sho
ut again, unable to help myself as a tear trickles out of my eye.

  I’ll get to star in my own movies, and walk down the red carpet, and wave to my many fans who want to hear my very unique Ghost Girl intro into life. Most people come out of a vagina. I just magically appeared.

  That makes me special.

  Gage stumbles backwards, releasing me like I’m fire, even as he keeps his wide eyes trained on me.

  I finally get a wide-room view of all four of them…and the annoying Lamar dude who needs to take his leave. I’ve seen what he does to that other guy, and he won’t be doing it to these four. I’ll cut a bitch if he wants to step on my turf. I’ve stalked the hell out of these guys for years so I could have the opportunity to seamlessly fit my way into their lives if this day ever came.

  I never thought it’d actually happen, and I’m torn between laughing, shaking, crying, and dancing all at once.

  I try to stand, but fall back down on the dead guy, because standing is harder than it looks.

  “I’m a real girl!” I shout again, tipping my head back to laugh hysterically.

  “Are you sure it’s her? Paca loved the way she looked.”

  Paca? “Why are you talking about some other girl when I just appeared—oh no!”

  I look down in horror at the clown suit I’m wearing, because I often put on wild outfits to see if people really can’t see me. It’s hard to ignore some things, such as a girl wearing a clown suit that is decorated with oversized peckers on it.

  Even the buttons are tiny penises. Down to the hairy-ball shoes I’m sporting, I’m not even a little bit sexy.

  “What…the…fuck…are you…wearing?” Ezekiel manages to ask very slowly, almost as though he’s distracted.

  “My penis clown suit. Also known as desperate-invisible-girl-outfit-number-nine-hundred-and-seventy-two,” I state as if on autopilot, straining to change my outfit with just a thought, as I always do…but…nothing happens.

  “Oh, no,” I whisper, touching the clown outfit, struggling to get it undone.

  Shit! I’m wearing my sasquatch vagina underwear! They’re fuzzy, meant to look like a cavewoman sort of outfit, but it just looks like I have hairy tits and ungroomed vagina/ass when it’s a real outfit.

  I’m doomed. I’m supposed to be super sexy and irresistible.

  “You! Fetch me something sexy! Hurry!” I shout at Lamar.

  For whatever reason, he actually salutes me and takes off running, while I scramble to pull off my red nose and toss it aside.

  “Ignore the face paint. I promise I’m pretty! Come to momma, you poor, sad, lonely boys! There’s enough of me to go around!” I shout, still yelling…even though everyone can hear me now.

  They all blink at me several times.

  “I’m scared to hope this is really happening, especially since…it’s happening like this,” Jude states in a semi-calm tone, even as he stares at me with heaps of incredulity.

  “Is there a reason you’re celibate, aside from those pesky group hand-job exploits?” I ask them, searching for a comfortable position on the dead body.

  Honestly, you think the guy could at least not stiffen up so much.

  It’s not like I can stand to walk away. I’m struggling just to sit up, because gravity is a lot harder to contend with than I expected. Everything on me feels a lot heavier than I realized.

  I used to be able to float a little.

  “Paca?” Kai asks on a soft, almost broken breath, looking in my direction.

  I grab the knife the dead guy dropped, and I whirl around, tipping sideways and squealing as I fall off the dead guy and crash into the floor. The knife bounces out of my hand, and I scramble to get it, pointing it behind me.

  “Where’s that bitch? She can’t be here! Not now! I’ll cut her if she tries to take you from me now that I’ve finally become a real freaking girl! Come at me, bitch. Bring it the fuck on!”

  I stare around the empty room, idly wondering if Kai’s seeing things, since there’s no one there.

  Frowning, I glance over, rocking around on the floor in the costume that is really a lot harder to move in when you have gravity, flesh, and all those other things hindering free motion.

  They’re all gaping at me as if in shocked horror or something.

  “Normally I wear cute underwear. You caught me on a day when I got really bored,” I explain, gesturing to the hair poking out. “I swear that’s not my vagina.”

  Though, now that I think about it, I’ve never actually seen my vagina. My body wouldn’t let me zap naked for whatever reason. I can change underwear all day, but I never get a peek at the goods.

  “If my vagina is ugly, I swear I’ll work hard to make it pretty. Don’t judge me on the first day of being a real girl!” I crow, pumping my fist into the air, as if I can make up for all the social ineloquence with insufferable enthusiasm.

  They only continue to gawk at me, until Lamar comes rushing back in with a very nice dress, a pair of funky boots, and…is that a crown? Oooooh!

  “I’ve always wanted a crown!” I shout, reaching for it, even as he hurries to dive to my side and hand it all to me.

  “Touch her, and I’ll remove your hands,” Gage cautions, as Ezekiel cracks his knuckles and glares at Lamar.

  Aw, they’re threatening their friend over me? Is this jealousy? Please let it be jealousy.

  I bat my lashes, swooning a little as the four of them come a step closer.

  “It has to be her, right? You guys are getting jealous, I’m about to come out of my skin to touch her, and Lamar’s plan had to work for a reason,” Ezekiel babbles, his eyes getting wilder and wilder as he moves another step closer.

  I use the damp cloth to scrub the clown makeup off my face, and I hurriedly strip naked, happy to see my vagina is indeed pretty.

  Thank goodness for that.

  There’s a choked sound from behind Lamar, and I peer over, finding Jude biting down on his fist, as his body visibly shakes.

  “I want to do bad things to all four of you,” I inform them, wasting no time, since I don’t know when this Paca chick will be returning.

  I need to hurry up and make them all love me so I can take her place.

  I pull on the dress, struggling a little to get it on. Clothes are way easier when you’re a ghost than when you’re a real girl. I crash into the wall when I try standing again, and then I slide down it as I give up the endeavor to use my useless legs.

  “You make walking look so easy,” I point out, gesturing at how effortlessly they’re standing, as though gravity doesn’t have the same pull on them that it does on me.

  “It has to be her,” Kai states in what sounds like quiet agreement, darting a look to Ezekiel.

  “I’m confused about who has to be whom,” I state, gesturing around us.

  “But…she doesn’t look anything like herself. Aside from the hair,” Gage says, eyebrows still up to his hairline.

  “If you’re all going to stand around having cryptic conversations, while I bask in the world that can now see me, can at least one of you get me some popcorn?” I ask.

  Jude starts toward me, but Gage beats him, tugging me up from the floor so abruptly that I gasp.

  My eyes widen when his are so close to me, while he holds me up and pins me to the wall at the same time, staring intently into my soul…or at least that’s how my romantic little heart feels about this smoldering look he’s giving me.

  “Paca,” he whispers, kissing me before I can correct him.

  Oh, shit. Are they blind? Does he think I’m her? Poor guy. That bitch really did a number on them—

  Oh my fucking hell. He’s kissing me!

  His lips feel like smooth silk would probably feel, as they manipulate mine with more familiarity than I expected, since I’ve never kissed a boy before.

  I’m like a starved predator seeking prey when I throw my arms around his neck, dragging him down so I can properly devour him before he figures out I’m not his cheating girlfrie
nd.

  I’ll make him forget all about her.

  He groans into my mouth, his grip on me tightening, as he roughly shoves me firmer against the wall, his kiss almost as desperate as mine. I drink him in like he’s champagne on a night meant for celebration.

  He practically has to rip his face away when he finally decides to break the kiss I wanted to go on forever. I’m dazed, confused, and apparently easily excited, because that kiss got my motor running something fierce.

  “C-can y-y-you do that again?” I ask him too hopefully, my voice breathy as I stutter the words.

  “It has to be her. No one else has ever kissed me like that,” Gage says before his lips are on mine again, fulfilling my wish so easily.

  My fingers slip into the soft strands of his hair, as I hungrily kiss him…and slide my leg over his hip, ready for a lot more.

  “Take my virginity,” I whisper against his mouth, ready to beg my least favorite for anything.

  I don’t know why he was my least favorite anymore. He’s definitely my favorite now.

  He’s torn away from me, and without the support of his body, I start falling forward, only to be caught and shoved up against the wall again by Jude.

  His lips seal over mine, and I quickly change my favorite to him, until Kai knocks him away, grappling me to him, seizing my lips with his in another toe-curling kiss that has my fickle heart shifting to him so easily.

  Ezekiel is next, almost knocking Kai to the ground, as he yanks me up from the floor and starts running away with me, lips stealing mine in a bobbled kiss. Dizzying motions assault me, and a vortex of dark colors swirl together, before we’re suddenly in another room, something I take note of with one eye cracked open.

  So that’s what a siphon feels like when you’re not a ghost girl hitching a ride before they disappear.

  My stomach protests ever doing anything like that ever again, but my vagina is telling my stomach to get over its distress, because she’s not letting anything get in her way right now.

  Ezekiel drops me to the bed, and he quickly yanks his shirt over his head.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” comes Kai’s voice.

  “He’s being my favorite. Wait your turn. There’s enough of me to go around,” I assure him, dropping back on the bed and awaiting my cherry-popping like a good shameless girl would.