Page 62 of Barbi and the Villain

Did I catch something from the Dark One? He healed himself before, didn’t he? When I gave him back his finger, it immediately attached itself to his hand. The puncture wounds on my neck healed too when he bit me. Did he have anything to do with this?

But as I think about him, a pang of pain stabs at my heart. Why is the memory of him so poignant? Whereas before I was mortified of my actions, willing myself to forget all those silly interactions, now I replay them in my mind continuously—almost as if searching for something but not knowing what.

He is a hateful man. He is a beguiling man.

I shake my head at myself. Stop it, Barbi! You deserve better!

You deserve an actual villain to burn the world for you, not one who’d let you fall from a cliff.

That’s it! Mr. Nykander the Dark One is not the villain for me.

I trudge my way forward, wandering aimlessly and thinking of more silly things—like how to find and train my own villain.

I chuckle at my own expense as I continue walking.

Am I still in Akkaya? I wonder.

There was no accessible entrance to that cabin, so the only reasonable explanation is that a certain someone must have taken me there.

But why?

If he was so hard-pressed about me remaining in Akkaya, why did he not take me to the portal and haul me back into my world?

Or am I already in my world, and the cabin is where the portal took me?

Then what about my dogs? Where are PomPom and BonBon?

I release a ragged breath. So many questions, so few answers.

My dress is stained with blood. My skin, too.

I look like a walking nightmare.

“At least there’s no one around to see how low I’ve fallen,” I murmur to myself, self-deprecation my only remaining friend.

Once upon a time, I was pink. Now I am bloody red…

The landscape is as I imagined during my fall. A lush, green valley between mountains, with massive forests stretching in front of me. It’s also devoid of life. There aren’t people around, but more surprisingly, there aren’t any animals either.

I suddenly stop.

A prickling sensation builds just under my skin—a hum that makes all my cells vibrate in unison. The skin over my heart burns. I rub the spot with my fingers to alleviate the discomfort, but the burn becomes increasingly more pronounced.

That’s when I hear it.

“Barbi!”

His thundering voice echoes through the valley, the bass reverberating through my body—a soft caress that makes me betray my previous conviction.

The burn intensifies, pulsating to life and dictating the tempo of my heart.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

It echoes in my ear, seemingly echoing in the valley, too.

It echoes in the distance, washing over me, over the landscape, over the world.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

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