Page 24 of Daemonium

“Only way I see outta here,” Dion answered, facing the rounded metal door.

Ky held my hand up and examined the small cut on my palm. "I should have prevented this."

My brow furrowed in confusion. "It wasn't your fault, Ky."

"I should have stopped it," he repeated in a detached tone.

There was no visible change in his expression, but the girl watching him from the back of my mind knew he wasn’t okay. It may have seemed trivial—and the cut truly wasn’t that bad, but Ky’ wouldn’t see it that way. He couldn’t. To him, this was a mark of failure. That’s the way his mind worked, and what we all loved about him.

I wanted to soothe him with my touch, but there was clay caked all the way up to my wrists.

I opted to place my hand on his chest, not caring it was soaking wet and just as covered in the unidentified substance. He pulled me into a bruising embrace, and I pressed myself against him even harder.

Carol caught my eye from a few feet away, standing with the man we’d saved and saying something to Dion, giving me a small smile.

As we waited for the others to catch up, Mel studied Ky and me with a pensive expression. "Looks like some old habits have resurfaced," she remarked, finally acknowledging our past together.

It took me a moment to process her words. I went to lift my head, but Ky gently pressed it back against his chest, not saying a word. He was so much taller than me. Trying to play off this serious moment as just another casual conversation, I asked, "Do you think it was always this way?"

"I think it’s going to get a lot more intense,” she replied, glancing past us.

I could tell that the rest of our group had arrived on our side of the top platform after going all the way around. Ky slowly lowered his arms, and I stepped to the side so that I could see Lana.

Her hands were coated in the same clay-like substance. Ciaran, Maverick, the brunette—Hayven—and Charon were two steps behind her.

"We all made it," Carol said with a mixture of relief and disbelief evident on her face.

"Barely," panted the older man, still catching his breath.

Ciaran moved up next to Lana and gently brushed a few stray hairs out of her face before addressing us as a whole.

“Everyone ready to move?”

“Well, I don’t really appreciate the scenery here,” Brody answered.

Maverick held his arms up and examined them, sniffing softly. “This isn’t shit, is it?”

“No?” Lana looked down at her hands. “At least, I hope not.”

Mel frowned at him. “Why would you smell it?”

“How did you get it all over you?” Hayven followed up.

He was covered more than any of us, so much so his tattoos were almost concealed all the way up to the bulkier part of his arms. He lowered his wrists and looked at them. “I was a little busy trying not to get my ass eaten alive. Getting covered in gator shit was the least of my concerns.”

“It’s not…it’s not that,” Carol interjected with a tinge of exasperation.

“Even if it is, we’re gonna have to deal with it. We need to get out of here.”

We took a moment to gather our bearings before pushing through the door and emerging onto a sprawling grassy field.

The cityscape could be seen in the distance, below us due to the incline of the hill. The twinkling lights of the city were mesmerizing, especially the clock tower standing tall with its illuminated face. The moon shone above, casting a silvery glow over the illusion of a peaceful setting.

I knew there were others down there going through their own versions of hell, all of us trapped in the Devil’s Playground. It was a somber thought.

"This reminds me of those cabins we woke up in," Lana said to Dion as she looked around.

"I think it's similar," he commented, scanning the horizon. “Minus being in the woods and you trying to swing on me.”

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