Page 57 of Devil May Lie

Like anyone could just take him away whenever they wanted and leave Berga—

There was a flash of pink, the brush of tulle against his knee as he briskly made his way across the track. He batted it away, rubbing his palm against his thigh when a couple specks of blood appeared on the back of his hand from his efforts.

Oh no.

Blood.

Berga suddenly stopped, eyes wandering away from Madden and his groupies to the ground. A puddle was forming right where he stood, seeping up around his feet, the smell of copper pungent in the air. The shaking started before he could convince himself this wasn’t real, the fluttering of pink tulle dancing around him, pulling him in deeper. Someone giggled, the sound light and airy.

His heart broke—he could hear the pieces of it clunking around inside of him as it came undone, the sharp stabs of metal poking at his lungs, rising up his throat like acid. One hand went to his neck, the other continuing to rub off the red smears, but every time he did, more appeared until his arm was soaked up to the elbow.

This wasn’t happening. He needed to get a grip. This was a very public place. There were too many people around. If it got out that the Butcher of the Brumal was suffering from delusions, the Satellite would become a joke.

Berga would become a joke.

And then it wouldn’t just be his parents who no longer wanted him.

It’d be the whole damn world.

There were safe emotions, things he could feel without worry of consequences. Things like excitement for a new project or test results, annoyance whenever Flix didn’t call him back. Mild discontent. Elation was okay, too, usually since that also related to his work, and that drive to satiate his curiosity encompassed all else, including the psychosis.

So why now? What had he felt to set this off? To bring her back to him?

“Oh no, you’ve hurt yourself, silly!”

“No.”

“Come on, I saw mom put the extra bandages in the basement.”

“Stop talking.”

“Bergie, hurry up, you’re getting it all over! Dad will be angry with you again!”

“Don’t go down there.”

The laughter came again, ringing in his ears, and even though he knew logically this was all in his head, he couldn’t stop his reactions. Couldn’t prevent himself from hyperventilating when she corporealized in front of him, crouched at his feet, poking at his knee.

“Oh no,” it was like the entire crowd vanished, her voice the only thing audible as everything else faded into darkness, “you’ve hurt yourself, silly!”

What did he have on him? There was a pill filled with nanites that broke apart white blood cells. One that would turn someone’s skin purple. A tranquilizer…Maybe that could work, but this wasn’t a safe environment. He couldn’t just pass out any random place.

Someone grabbed his arm from behind and he shook them off.

In front of him, the girl in pink giggled and peered up at him with eyes filled with love.

The last person who’d ever looked at him that way.

He reached for her, freezing when he saw his bloodstained fingers.

“Come on,” the apparition grabbed him by two of his fingers, seemingly undeterred by the crimson rubbing off onto her own skin, “I saw mom put the extra bandages in the basement.”

“I don’t need a bandage,” Berga said, allowing her to tug him forward half a step before he forced them to a standstill. “I don’t need it, don’t go down there.”

Tranquilizer.

Right.

This wasn’t real.

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