The voices are real. And whoever they belong to, she’s fucking scared of them.
With newfound courage, I push her away, bolt upright in bed.
“Hello?” I call out. “Who’s there?”
“Baz!” the woman calls out. No longer an echo, her voice is suddenly loud and clear. “Kirin, it’s him! He hears us!”
They’re standing right downstairs.
“The barrier’s still in place, Stevie,” the male voice replies. “We can’t get to him.”
Kirin… Stevie…
I know those names. I know those people.
I gasp, and everything crashes through me in a flash. Memories. Images. A timeline condensed down to this very moment, to this very place.
This isn’t Janelle’s house. I’m not a fucking kid anymore. This is the dream realm. It isn’t fucking real. Ford wasn’t real.
And this monster in my bed… This bitch isn’t real either.
“We’re done here,” I say flatly, wrenching myself from the bed. She looks up at me with wide, confused eyes, but now that I see through the charade, she can’t fuck with me anymore.
“You’re making a terrible mistake,” she warns.
“Yeah, well. Welcome to my life.” I try to think of some final parting words, something cold and biting, but I don’t even give a shit anymore. I’m done with her. Done with all of it.
I turn my back on her, reaching for the bedroom doorknob and the freedom waiting just on the other side.
But when I wrench it open, it’s not freedom I find standing before me.
It’s a Dark Arcana asshole dressed in a stained white robe, his mouth and chin black with blood, eyes glowing with pure rage.
Judgment.
I barely have time to get my fists up in front of my face when the son of a bitch jabs me in the gut with his staff, dropping me to my knees.
“Unworthy,” he hisses. “All shall burn.”
He swings in a wide arc, clocking me in the temple.
Stars swim before my eyes. Without warning, he nails me again. My vision turns black at the edges.
“Burn!” he roars, and the staff ignites, bright red flames cutting through the darkness in my head. A harrowing, all-consuming pain tears through my brain, unlocking a flood of vile memories.
My brother, his coal-black eyes after he burned a mage alive.
Janelle, the first night she slipped into my bedroom and every night after. Her red lips. Her searching hands. The poison she spoke, her words like a spell that destroyed my heart, one whisper at a time.
All I want to do is end this.
I grab the end of the staff, bring it close to my face. One more inch, and I’m done. I can burn it all away. Ford’s violence, Janelle’s touch, the memories, the pain, the disgust, the hatred—all of it.
It’s what Judgment wants. I can see it in his sneer, in the way his eyes light up as my spirit dims.
All I want to do is give up. I can almost taste it, the sweet relief of death.
But one thought, flickering like a candle in a forgotten basement, yanks me back from the brink.
