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I forged ahead through the tunnels below Marshmallow’s streets, confident I knew these passageways better than whatever monster had invaded my hometown.
This was the past, dead and buried.
My chest tightened. My vision of the memory blurred. I didn’t want to see this again. I didn’t want to live through this again.
I’m supposed to be dead.
It was a fluke that I’d survived, only really, I hadn’t even quite managed that.
“Everything is all right, dear,” a sweet, feminine voice said.
Except there was every reason to be afraid. This had all happened seventy years ago. This was how I’d died.
I knew this was already over, that there was nothing I could tell myself that would change what was about to happen. But I couldn’t stop my need to try.
Cool, humid underground air pressed against my skin. The scent of rot filled my nose. It felt real. It felt like it was happening right now.
“There’s no need to be afraid,” the voice said.
Run away. Don’t listen.
A grandmotherly figure appeared before me in a flowing white nightgown. Her wrinkled face was as kind as her voice, and my worry began to dissipate. The screaming voice in the back of my head telling me to run softened to a whisper.
She reached for me.
A wash of calm and contentment settled over me. Everything would be all right if only I accepted her embrace.
I took a step closer.
She smiled. It was pleasant at first, until it wasn’t. Her lips curled up on the sides. As her eyes turned red and sunk into her skull, I knew I had to snap out of whatever spell she had cast over me.
But in an instant, stabbing pain pierced through my chest—hot and sharp and searing. She wrapped her hand around my neck.
Snap.
“Lily?”
A shake on my shoulder and everything flashed away—the monster, my pain, my anguish.
I gasped for breath.
“Lily, are you all right?”
I peeked through heavy eyelids and found myself smack in the middle of a sludge puddle. With gooey fingers, I felt my neck and found it straight. I felt my chest and found no holes.
I blinked up at the ceiling. This was not Marshmallow. I was no longer underground, but in a building. And I was most definitely alive.
My mission, in Gubbins—the soup!Sensation came pouring back, and with it a fresh round of tears.
I bolted upright and searched the floor around me for my shotgun. I grabbed it and held it tight to my chest. My heart pounded against my ribcage. A sheen of sweat and goo coated my skin. Was the top of my head going to explode? It just might.
Madison was kneeling beside me, concern squinching up her baby face. That was weird. She wasn’t supposed to be in Gubbins. She was supposed to be safe back at the library, stressing out over paperwork instead of putting herself in danger in the field. OnlyIwas supposed to be here.
“What happened?” I asked her. “Where is the soup?”
“You’re sitting in it.” The voice was deep, definitely did not belong to Madison, and was sickeningly familiar.
My stomach churned like I’d swallowed a family of frogs. I squeezed my eyes shut and prayed the familiarity was only coincidence. I could be wrong.
