Page 14 of Little Blue

I'm really losing it. I need help. Professional help.

Or maybe I should just ride out the fantasy.

I should just climb between my sheets, rest my head on my pillow, and play out the dark and twisted fantasy I have of being mauled by the wolfman.

Maybe then I'll stop smelling him whenever I’m alone.

Maybe I'll stop waking, certain that he's close in the night.

Maybe I’ll stop drowning in blue every time I close my eyes.

Six

Irelynn

I wake, my heart bludgeoning the cage that contains it inside my chest. Fear pulses through me, hot and violent, snagging my breath, burning in my lungs.

I’m trying to scream, I realize.

I can’t scream.

There’s a weight on my chest. A prick of something hot and biting in my neck.

“Hello, Little Blue,” his deep voice crashes into my reality like a boom of thunder in an otherwise quiet field.

My vision blurs. Darkness hovers at the edge.

Am I falling asleep?

My eyes find the blue of his. Another dream?

It’s not as sharp as the others. I feel as though I’m swimming, wading through murky waters.

My neck hurts. Burns.

He shifts, pulling his hand back. A syringe. A—needle?

This isn’t a dream. It can’t be.

This is real. He’s here.

The wolfman. The monster.

My monster.

I try again to scream. Someone is sure to hear me through these paper-thin walls, but no sound comes. I feel the warmth of his finger pressing into my lips as dread weighs heavy on my chest.

“Soon, Little Blue. Soon, you’ll scream for me.” He leans in close, his body covering mine, cocooning me in winter and flame, spiced berries and sin.

My heart riots.

I try again to scream but hear only a whimper. Is it in my mind, or does he hear it, too?

His lips are warm on my forehead. His kiss is a deadly vow that follows me into chaotic oblivion as his dark rumble commands, “Sleep.”

Seven

Irelynn

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