Page 294 of Psycho Devils: Aran's Story 2

In the storm’s aftermath, I was grotesque.

Grotesquely sexy.

A long time ago—ten minutes earlier in the throes of an intense pain induced delusion—I decided that the key to survival was self-confidence.

The reasoning had made sense in the moment.

Down a tunnel far, far, far away, Lothaire’s voice echoed, “The fourth competition is concluded. Competitors must now exit the arena of their own free will.”

Free will is an oxymoron. The universe is nothing but a connection of horrors. Everyone is trapped in an endless loop of suffering. No one can escape.

Oh great, I was getting philosophical.

Never a good sign.

A furry body climbed out from beneath me and then a warm hand touched my shoulder.

I tried to turn my head, but I couldn’t move.

The force of the pain was paralyzing.

My ravaged fingernails dug deeper into moist soil, and the dirt was soaked in blood, water, and fragments of glass.

Across the steaming field, as a crowd spilled out of a concrete building, shouts and fighting echoed. The noises quieted as the mob stood at the edge of the arena and waited.

I dropped my head and inhaled shakily through my nose.

“Your back,” Xerxes said with horror. “There are letters.”

The glass storm had shredded the fabric off my back, and my clothes were hanging in tatters off my body.

“You licked my eyeball,” I whispered brokenly.

There was a shuffling noise and swearing. Xerxes mumbled something about being mentally unwell and knelt beside me as he said, “I can’t carry you. You have to leave of your own free will.”

“Please increase my dosage, I’m still hallucinating,” I said loudly so the nurses in the ward could hear me.

Xerxes grabbed me beneath my armpits.

“Stranger danger!” I shouted, and he jumped back with surprise.

I blinked rapidly and waited for the hallucinating to end.

“I’ll help as much as I can.” Xerxes’s voice cracked. “What you did for me was—there are no words. I will forever be in your debt.”

The hallucinating continued.

Xerxes picked me up by my armpits and held me straight up like a doll.

I narrowed my eyes at him warily and said, “You’re a very emotional man, aren’t you?”

My legs dangled uselessly.

“You’ve been through intense pain,” Xerxes said slowly. “It makes sense that you’re confused and delirious. Just try to stay calm.”

Shredded clothes fell off my frozen body, and I was partially exposed. Glass shards dug into my frozen feet and made my soles burn.

“I’m nude,” I pointed out helpfully.

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