He means Joshua. He’s threatening Joshua. I obey, my gait halting as I begin the trek across the parking lot. “You’re not going to touch him,” I say through my teeth.
Nightmare laughs quietly. He’s following me, moving with the group around us as if he belongs. He’s still leaning over my shoulder when he warns, “Then I suggest you stay quiet.” Before I can say anything more, my hair is stirred by a sudden breeze and Nightmare is gone.
But I can feel him nearby. Even when Joshua spots me, smiling soothingly as his warm palm cups mine, I can sense the chill of Nightmare’s presence.
Between classes, I pass him in the hallway and his strong scent—blood, darkness, hunger—assails my senses. Our eyes meet, blue against that infinite black, and then I look away, acting as if I can just wish him into oblivion. He turns as he passes to keep those eyes on me. He’s playing a game of cat-and-mouse, toying with me before he makes his final move.
Yet Nightmare still doesn’t attack. Even when I notice him behind some shelves in the library, watching me and Joshua study, even when he passes the doorway to one of my classes and winks at me.
It’s one of the slowest days I’ve ever experienced. At the end of it, Joshua kisses me on the cheek. “I have to go home real quick,” he tells me. “But I’ll swing by your place later, okay? Make sure you’re never alone.”
His concern causes more spasms in my wall, more digging in the hole.
Sophia, for once, ignores me when I pass her group. She’s been acting this way ever since the town found out about Tim—instead of mockery and pranks, she now pretends I don’t exist. It’s the best she can do, I suppose. Sally doesn’t talk about any of it, of course, but my brother does. Some of Sophia’s friends see me and look away. Most with guilt.
At the end of the day, I get into my truck with no trouble from Nightmare. Get on the road. On my way home. Back to Charles. Safety is only a few miles away.
And then he appears in the back of my truck, his eyes gleaming back at me in the rearview mirror. I slam the gas pedal all the way down, intending to knock him off balance and leave him behind in a cloud of billowing gravel.
Pop. One of the tires explodes beneath me.
Now I smash on the brakes, open the door, and fly out of the driver’s seat, heading for a field to my left just through a line of trees. I don’t bother checking to see what’s ruined the tire. Nightmare expected it to happen; he’s already disappeared. I’m a blur through the trees. There’s no way he can possibly catch me. Where is he? I turn …
… and he wraps his hand around my throat.
“Sleep,” he purrs. His grip tightens, just barely. A fierce desire to curl up and succumb to darkness creeps over me. I fight it but my eyelids are so heavy, as if my eyelashes are made of iron. Somehow, I manage to lurch away from the Element and stumble in the opposite direction, back toward my truck. I hear Nightmare sigh impatiently. “Fine, have it your way.” When I glance back, a gun materializes in his hand. Not real, not real, I tell myself in a daze, staggering.
A sharp pain billows through my shoulder and down my back. I gasp, faltering, and as I do so he shoots again, another bullet slamming into my lower back. Colors swim before me and unbearable waves of heat spread through my body. I stumble to my knees, rendered helpless. For a shivering instant time stands still. Then I drop, landing face-first into the dirt.
I watch his shoes approach, all shiny. I’m powerless.
“You do like to make things harder for yourself,” Nightmare says, squatting beside me. “It’s quite amusing.” He reaches down to grasp my chin, turning my head to the side so he can see my face. I can’t speak; it’s so hard to keep my senses straight with all this pain burning through me. My vision begins to cloud until the face leering down at me is nothing but a blur—all that stands out are those voracious eyes. The whiteness of his shirt.
“ … please … ” I manage to say, moaning.
“You’ll be fine. We both know you’ll heal.”
My head starts to pound and I can’t suppress another moan. A rock is digging into my stomach, but I hardly notice it compared to the agony of the gunshot wounds.
Lying. It’s all I have left. “ … not one of them … ” I say, tears slipping out the corners of my eyes.
Nightmare rests the butt of the gun in the dirt, leaning on it. He balances gracefully on the balls of his feet, as if he wants as little dirt touching him as possible. “I beg to differ, my girl,” he replies. “As I said, I’ve been looking for you, and even though you’re wearing a different face, I know. Not to mention the fact you have those abilities. How foolish do you think I am?”
The pain is consuming. I make a strangled noise. The Element shakes his head, sighing. “Our kind really can be so arrogant. As you’re finding out, we’re not everlasting. I’ve drained more of you than I can count. And we just keep coming back!” He smirks. “It’s a game that never ends. Kill Guilt once, and a new one pops up to take her place.”
At my silence, the monster cocks his head yet again, examining every inch of me. He doesn’t seem to be worried about anyone driving by and seeing my abandoned truck. After a minute, he sighs. “Well, let’s get this over with.” He reaches down again and digs his finger into my hair.
He begins to drag me through the long grass, and I barely feel the pressure on my scalp before the rest of the pain tightens its hold on me, and my world goes dark.
Something soft against my cheek. Something cold. I stir but don’t open my eyes. Instinct drives me deeper into the shadows. But then the soft, cold thing on my face leaves and quickly returns in a decidedly less pleasant manner. Slap. Frowning, I come awake. My vision is swallowed whole by a pale oval. I swallow to wet my throat. “Where am I?” It comes out as a croak.
“Don’t worry. You’re safe.”
I blink rapidly, and the oval solidifies and becomes a face I would recognize anywhere. “Fear?” He’s lying next to me, head propped up on his hand, looking down at me with a gentle light in his eyes. His fingers brush a strand of hair away from my face.
“What—” I start. My memory chooses that moment to come back in a roaring current and I let out a gasp. My hands clutch at Fear’s shirtfront of their own volition. I sit up, head swimming. “We have to get out of here.” I look around, and Fear’s nearness must be affecting me, because my heart is pounding against my rib cage so strongly that it just might break it. “Nightmare—”
Fear shushes me, smoothing my hair back from my face. “Don’t worry about him,” he says. “He won’t touch you.” Dimly, I realize that I’m drenched in sweat.
We’re on a bed in a huge, shadowed room. The sheets are twisted around my waist, pearly white. The walls are elegant, painted in a muted shade of lavender. There’s one large window to my right, and curtains have been drawn over the glass. It’s warm in here, a feeling of safe isolation crowding close. My pulse slows.
The Emotion shifts so that his hip rests against mine, and I lift my chin to look up at him. I didn’t think I’d see him again. Where is Rebecca? I study his expression, wondering what this means. Before I can open my mouth and let out a torrent of questions, he tells me, still in that calming tone, “Nightmare just needs to know where your father is.”
The words bring the dread back in a rush. Forgetting Rebecca and the rest of the questions clogging my throat, I shift uneasily, struggling to breathe. “M-my father? Tim? Is Nightmare here? Where are we?”
Fear lowers his mouth to mine. It’s so startling that every coherent thought flees my mind. Fear doesn’t wait for me to recover. His palm brushes over the bare skin of my stomach and his lips are sweeter than anything I’ve ever tasted. He shifts so that his body is turned toward mine. My back falls against the mattress and I drown in the fire of Fear. His hand becomes a fist in my hair. Different sensations gust through me, and for the first time in my life, I feel that place down there tingle. My grip tightens on his shirt and I pull him closer, as if every part of him isn’t already fused
to me. This is what I wanted that day in the hallway, this is what the illusion stops me from—
Fear pulls away so abruptly that our lips make a smacking sound. “Just tell me where your father is, and I’ll go relay it to Nightmare so you won’t have to,” he says with a drowsy look in his eyes. “Then I’ll come right back.”
I open my eyes. “W-what?” The haze of lust begins to ebb. My brow furrows and I look up at Fear. His expression is impatient, demanding. After a moment I tell him, my voice a rasp, “I have no idea where Tim is.”
He shakes his head, caressing my spine. This time the touch doesn’t distract me. “Not Tim. You know I don’t mean Tim. Please, Elizabeth, just tell me. Then this will all be over and you and I can be together.”
I stare. “No, Fear, I don’t know who you mean. Charles kicked Tim out, and he left. Who are you talking about?”
He stares at me three full seconds. I count them. One. Two. Three. Then, without warning, the beautiful Emotion screams. Before my eyes, a cut slashes across the mouth that just kissed me with such passion. He rolls out of the bed and hits the floor with a dull thud. I scramble to reach his side and Fear rolls, holding his stomach. “He’ll kill me if you don’t tell him!” he says through his teeth. Then he jerks and lets out another cry of pain. Blood spurts from a fresh wound in his gut, caused by an invisible weapon held by an unseen hand. I try to cover the gushing hole with my shaking fingers, shaking my head dumbly.
“I-I don’t—”
“Tell him!”
Tears stream down my cheeks. “I don’t know!”
Everything freezes. And then Fear is gone. One second he was on the floor, bleeding and dying, and the next Nightmare is standing in his place, looking down at me with an unfathomable glint in his eye.
I recoil, landing on my bottom painfully. Nightmare sighs. “Let’s try this another way, shall we?” he asks blandly, straightening his shirt cuffs.
My lip lifts in a snarl and I struggle to my feet so I can launch myself at him, claw his eyes out. But before I can, I lose myself in swirling, cackling shadows once again.
“It’s simple. All I want to know is where your father is. Please, Elizabeth. For your own sake, tell me.”
Another shock jerks through my body, and I cry out.
The light bulb above us flickers some more. It hangs on a wire, which is nailed to a wooden ceiling. No rays of light burst through the cracks, leading me to believe it’s night. I can’t see much, because my vision is still blurred and it’s dark in here, but from what I can tell he’s brought me to some sort of shack in the woods. I can hear the trees rustling outside, smell the richness of the earth, barely feel the breeze slipping past. There are no animals, no Elements, no Emotions of any kind. None of them dare tangle with this creature.
Which means no one will be coming to rescue me. I’m on my own.
And this is the ultimate truth. Because here, I’ve realized, is where I’m going to die.
Nightmare circles the table I’m lying on, sighing. “You’ll have to forgive the décor. My powers of persuasion seem to be lost on you.” When I still say nothing, he bends so his face is level with mine. His voice is kind as he adds, “You have to give up at some point, my dear. I’ve already won. You’re just prolonging your own pain.”
Snot runs down my mouth, and I try to spit it out. It only clogs my throat, and I gag for a few moments. Nightmare’s expression twists into one of disgust. His pupils are slits, like a cat’s. “Give me your father’s location and I’ll let you go,” he says gently, brushing some of my hair out of my face with his sharp fingernails. He draws little pinpricks of blood. I can’t even move away from his touch.
Nightmare toys with my earlobe, then, without warning, he digs his nails into the side of my head. I scream. He leans down and growls through his teeth, “Tell me where he is right now, or I swear I’ll put a knife into your stomach so many times that it’ll look like Swiss cheese.”
His fingers dig even deeper into my skull, and I whimper. My fingers twitch a little—the closest to moving I can get.
When still I don’t speak—I’ve already told him dozens of times I have no idea who he’s talking about, because he can’t possibly mean Tim—Nightmare straightens, pulling his fingers out. Tears slide down my cheeks, soundless rivers. He circles me some more, his footsteps thunder in the tiny space.
“I don’t mean to be so vulgar. Come, now,” he coaxes. He’s playing nice again. “The fool can’t mean that much to you. Honestly, I watched your family all those years ago, waiting for him, and I never saw him once. Doesn’t seem like he cared, otherwise he would visit, wouldn’t he? Wouldn’t
he show up now to save you? Is he really worth dying for?” When I still don’t reply, he sighs. “Such a slippery fellow. Every time I waited at a birth, he didn’t make an appearance. The others know about me now, and this is getting harder.”
I barely hear this last part. He knows something about me, I think. He knows who I was before the illusion. But I don’t have any answers for him, and I can’t utter a single question. So when I just shake my head, tears running out of the corners of my eyes, Nightmare smiles a little. His teeth glow in the darkness and his anger fills the tiny space. Slowly, his hand reaches for the light switch on the wall next to the door. I open my mouth—try to shout something, no, please, no, anything, but I can’t—and his finger lightly flips it, as if it’s the smallest thing in the world.
Electricity sizzles through my body again, and I rock the table from side to side, coming dangerously close to tipping it as I convulse. Now spit, combined with the snot, runs down the side of my neck, pooling on the surface by my cheek. My fingers grip the edge of the table in desperation and a weird sound manages to escape from my mouth, a half-shriek, half-sob. Nightmare instantly flicks the switch back off when he hears it, and his eyes are alert.
“What?” He strides back to my side, cupping my cheek in a tender way. “What did you say, little one?”
I wait a beat. Then, summoning up what energy I have left, I hack the slimy glob from the back of my throat into his leering face. It hits his eye with a satisfying squirt.
The Element jerks back, freezes for an instant. Slowly, he wipes the mess away with the back of his hand, revealing dangerous, scorching eyes. Lumps of coal with depths of perilous fire. “You really shouldn’t have done that,” he informs me. He goes to another table at the side of the room, where he has an assortment of knives and tools stacked against the wall.
As he runs his fingers over every one of them, taunting me, Nightmare gives me accounts of all the Emotions and Elements he’s hunted, tortured, killed. The manner is very similar to how Fear had once told me his own tales, but there wasn’t such malevolence in his eyes.
I can barely see Nightmare now. His elbow moves. When he turns around to face me, I can finally see what he’s holding in his hands. One of the shorter knives. He approaches, surprising me when he just plays with the blade, doing a trick by balancing it on the tip of his finger. Instead of more pain or more talk, the Element gets an old-looking chair from the corner of the shack, pulling it across the dirt to the table. He sits on the edge of it, almost primly, and crosses his legs.
“You know, you’re the only one that got away,” Nightmare says. The light bulb above illuminates the harsh angles and planes of his face. “I’d given up on you. Then, a month ago, I happened to eavesdrop on a couple of Emotions. They were talking about a girl who could withstand their touch and not feel a thing. Curious, I began to investigate. When I got here, I soon stumbled upon you and your dreams. That’s when I put two and two together. Your new face didn’t throw me—that’s easy for one of us to do if we have enough power. But I’ll admit, I began to doubt after watching you for a while. My nightly games didn’t ruffle you a bit. You were quite dull, even for a human. But just as I was about to leave I saw you save the boy from being run down at that party, and I knew.”
Nightmare jerks, and suddenly the tip of the knife
is buried in my hand. I try not to scream, try not to give him the satisfaction, but it’s impossible. My screech fills every corner of the shack, a deafening sound. Nightmare kisses my temple. His lips are dry.
“You know, besides Landon, you’re the longest to ever last in my clutches,” he whispers.
Time slows until it stops completely. The world around us disappears. What did he just say?
Landon.
My insides heat up and up until my blood is lava inside of me. There’s a loud rushing in my ears, like a wave or a billow of wind before the tornado hits.
Nightmare moves out of my line of vision and I see a flash of his hand as he goes back to his torture instruments. That hand touched Landon. That hand hurt Landon. That hand killed Landon. How didn’t I see it before? Nightmare is the shadow in the trees, the villain in the siblings’ story. My breathing grows shallower, and my chests rises and falls so quickly I feel like a blur. An image of Rebecca’s brother fills my mind, a picture of him sitting at that kitchen table, shoving a huge bite of cereal in his mouth.
I want to make Nightmare feel the same pain he caused Landon. I want to watch him die. I want him to regret what he did to that sweet boy who loved his books and his family with limitless, quiet devotion.
Would you like to hear a story?
From the dreams and the flashes, I remember the way he turned the page of a book. Such reverence, such concentration. For the first time, the memory causes pain. Because of this creature, that boy is gone. Ripped away from this world forever. Destined to haunt my dreams.
“I’m going to kill you,” I whisper. The words burn up my throat and blood is pooling on the table; the gunshots haven’t healed and my hand is screaming. My strength—what pathetic little there is left—is almost gone. I won’t last much longer now. No more time to seek out the deeper answers.
Nightmare turns to face me again, a different knife in his hand. This one has a crooked end. “What was that?” he asks, quirking a brow. I fall silent again. He pats my arm. “I do hate to be left out of a joke. Share!”
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