Page 83 of Snatched By the Sandman

The scene fades, and Zenya finds herself back at the cliff’s edge, with me staring at her with a subtle tilt of my head. “You have faced the First Trial,” I tell her as Nyxion and Morpheus approach. “You have confronted the darkness that shaped you. Now, you must use this knowledge to forge your path forward.”

Zenya, still shaken, nods slowly. “I understand. Maybe I’ll become stronger through this whole process.”

“Good. Remember, Zenya, every Trial will take you deeper into your soul. Embrace the darkness, this shadow work, and you will find the light.”

Zenya’s shoulders settle as if peace washes over her. The journey ahead will be difficult with each trial growing in hardship. But in this moment, she has reclaimed a part of her innocence and strength.

Zenya presses her lips into a tight seam, her resolve hardened.

Before I may offer any words of wisdom, she leaps off the cliff’s edge, caterwauling the whole way down.

All three of us smile.

Chapter 30

“I know where the bodies are buried.”

ZENYA

“Dark Signs” by Sleep Token

“Take Aim” by Sleep Token

“Hide and Seek” by Lizz Robinett

“Never Good Enough” by Citizen Soldier

Ifollow my past self down the prison hall, escorted by a bulky guard.

This time, we are all invisible to the individuals in the solitary room. Morpheus, Nyxion, and Hecate remain close behind me.

The cold, sterile environment suffocates my breath, a stark contrast to the tumultuous pulse thrashing in my veins, and the storm of thoughts inside my mind. Every step brings me closer to the solitary room where my father is being held, waiting for our first visit since he was arrested. Every pounding heartbeat reminds me of the confrontation that awaits me.

I pause at the door, my hands trembling as my past self enters the room. This younger version of me, hair dyed a rebellious purple, looks so fragile, but her determined shoulders show me her defiance, her strength. It was the first time she began dressing the way she wanted. The way we wanted. A vintage Gothic, black corset but a retro flared skirt with black butterflies swirling along the fabric. The contrast was during hiking excursions with sturdy clothes and appropriate gear.

After each challenge was accomplished, I’d go to antique shops, searching for my next fashion find.

My present clothes mirror hers but with a full flared dress in black with long lace sleeves and buttons along the center of the bodice.

A strange mix of sorrow and pride fills my chest as past Zenya steps inside, trying to mask her fear with her resolve. She tentatively steps inside while a guard closes the door behind her.

The distant clang of metal doors and the muffled voices of guards are the only sounds to interfere with the heavy silence of the private prison visiting room.

My father lifts his head, eyes expectant as he sits at the table, cuffed hands shackled to a solid metal ring in the center.

I stand against the wall, my eyes fixed on the greatest monster and killer in my life.

My heart clenches at the sight of my younger version of herself, a fresh 18-year-old, but still naive, hoping for some semblance of normalcy.

Morpheus and Nyxion observe from the nearby shadows. The God of Dreams presses his lips into a tight seam, his wings tense with anticipation. Nyxion is much calmer, his jaw hard but eyes a soft glimmer. Now and then, he turns his skull head toward me, and our eyes lock.

I don’t know what happened to him to prompt the extreme change—or what Eclipse said to him while I was sleeping.But something was exchanged between them because disgust doesn’t curl into my gut anymore. There is still caution and a grim determination, but I’m not choking on loathing anymore.

Nyxion is dressed in his three-piece suit as usual while Morpheus wears nothing more than his black slacks with his shadows trimming his abundant muscles, his slabbed chest. One new thing is the black strip of fabric around his eyes blindfold—his sight all but vanished. I wince but try not to consider how he would have full sight if we’d…gone to bed.

Hecate has chosen to guard the door outside, alert for any reavers or other invaders.

I remain against the wall, bracing myself for the memory of my first conversation with my father since he was arrested. Until tonight, he didn’t know I was the one who contacted the authorities.

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