Page 66 of Sick Bargain

I’m the farthest thing from a hero. I can’t even call myself a martyr, because if I’d died, Soren would be next, and the Sauder curse would live on to wipe out every male in my family.

“I’m no hero.”

“Finally, you listen to me,” he says, and I can’t see him, but Ifeelhim take a step closer to me—many steps. I guess my sixth sense didn’t die during those three minutes. “How fucking dare you, Remiel.”

I startle when his voice comes from behind me, his breath on my neck. I shriek so loud it echoes down the hall, but before I can turn around, his arm wraps around my neck from behind and his palm presses to my throat. When his fingers wrap around the sides, I come back to life for real. His threatening touch is still a touch, and I’ve missed his hands on me.

“I told you that you were mine.” His voice is more abrasive than normal, shaky and uneven. “I told you not even death could take you from me. I fucking told you what would happen if you gave in to the family curse.”

I shake against him, my back to his chest. My body is weak from spending days in bed, but my mind comes back online like he’s woken it from the dead. With the permission of his nearness and the timbre of his voice, my brain wires all cross and spark back to life.

“Why’d you do it?” he asks, tightening his hand on my throat. “Are you seriously that fucking pathetic? That you need my attention so badly that you’ll kill yourself if you don’t get it?”

Anger flares to life and joins my fear. “Fuck you.”

“No. Fuckyou, Remiel.” He chokes me. My hands latch onto his wrists, but my prying does nothing. Krypt’s lips land on the side of my neck, tasting me hesitantly. “Am I important to you?” he asks in my voice. “Am I important to you? Am I important to you?”

“Krypt,” I choke.

“Guess we’ll find out who’s stronger. Me or you, Remiel.” He presses a soft kiss to the side of my neck, and then he shoves me so hard my face smacks off the wall on the opposite side of the hallway.

Blood fills my mouth and nose, dripping over my lips. My ears ring and my head spins, eyes not yet sure if they can focus. I grab at my face, turning to find him, but what I find isn’t Krypt. It’s only the sickness within him.

His monsters have finally snapped free from their chains.

This.This is what it means for him to crack.

“Good luck,” he says in a voice so wicked my bones rattle. Then he laughs, and fear like I have never known skitters through me with such ardour that I know I don’t stand a chance of surviving him.

I have better odds of surviving the asylum.

So, I run. I run, and this time, I don’t fucking look back.

I don’t know these hallways and can’t navigate their maze in the dark. Fear makes me fast, but terror clouds my judgement, that cognitive distortion is back to make me stupid. I’m sick of running from him. I’m sick of being hunted by him. I want to stop, face him, lift my chin and own up to what my body wants from him.

But I’m not suicidal anymore, and I know I won’t survive the monsters that have broken free from the confinement he so carefully kept them in.

My Crocs are worn and slippery, barely any traction left, and the outfit Kyd brought me puts me at a complete disadvantage. I’m bright yellow and hot pink, and not even the dim hallways conceal me. So I stop aiming for the light. I run down darkened corridors, ignoring the eyes I feel peering at me from the windows in the doors. I don’t know what back alley part of the asylum we’re in, but I know I won’t like what I find behind those doors.

Krypt’s monsters aren’t the only ones surrounding me.

“Prettttyyyyyyy.”

I shriek and sprint past the voice, grabbing the wall to vault around a corner. I come face to face with a woman in a hospital gown. Her stringy hair conceals her face, but her milky eyes glow at me, and her toothless smile rivals Kyd’s.

“Friend,” she says.

I almost piss myself again. I keep running, my legs already tiring and my lungs protesting every breath. At my back, Krypt stalks with casual grace. A horse still abiding by the reins but champing at the bit to break free from the lead line. The woman behind me hisses, shrieking in fear, which means Krypt is closer than I think.

A green glow lights the passage ahead. I turn in the opposite direction, avoiding the light in order to find somewhere to hide. I’ll never make it out of here, and I can’t outrun him, but maybe I can hide. Maybe I can crawl into myself, hold my breath, and wait him out. He’ll get bored eventually.

Right?

I find an arched entrance and slow my pace as I walk through it. The stone walls have changed, becoming older and more damaged. Along the walls, metal rings are bolted into the stone, chains and manacles hanging from them. A waiting area? A prisoner area? What the fuck is this place? I reach out to touch a chain, snapping my hand back just as fast. If I rattle them, I’ll rattle Krypt.

The longer I walk, the more chains there are. At least nothing is tethered to them anymore. The manacles are free from necks and wrists, but their history scares me.

The narrow passage ends at a wooden door, iron bars acting as a window. I glance behind me, totally trapped now, stuck in a passageway with no comforting exit. He’s somewhere at myback, but this door doesn’t promise refuge. It’s a trap, and I’ve led myself into it.

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