Page 31 of Wicked Little Nightmare

"You okay back there?" I called over my shoulder, my voice unnaturally loud in the oppressive silence.

"Peachy keen, doll," came her sarcastic reply. "Just reminiscing about all the good times I probably had in this little slice of paradise. Don’t remember them… yet. But can’t wait ‘til I do. Maybe I can add these stories to that children’s book I’m writing."

“God, you’re so disturbing.”

“I take pride in that.”

My chest tightened at her words. Sometimes I forgot just how much she'd endured while we were apart. Guilt sat heavy inmy chest as I tried to lock it away. We both suffered in our separation, but I’d never regret protecting her. Not a fucking chance. The urge to turn around and crush her to my chest was almost overwhelming. Instead, I pushed on, determined to help her face whatever demons lurked in the shadows of her past.

"I’m here for you, Lakes," I said softly, pausing to look back at her. "Whatever's down here, we'll handle it. Just like we always do."

For a moment, her carefully constructed mask slipped, revealing a vulnerability that made my heart ache. Then it was gone, replaced by that familiar wicked gleam in her eye.

"My hero," she drawled, but I could hear the genuine affection beneath the snark. "Now let's go find some bodies to desecrate, shall we?"

I laughed, the sound echoing off the tunnel walls.God, I love this woman. Fucked up as we both were, there was no one else I'd rather have by my side as we sat in the cage of our pain.

"At your command, lil’ psycho," I replied, standing in a mock salute before leading us deeper into the darkness.

As we navigated the damp, winding tunnels, my instincts kicked into overdrive. Someone could be down here, and I needed to be ready to defend my girl.

"You know," I said, "I always dreamed of taking you on a romantic underground stroll. Though I imagined fewer rats and more champagne."

Lakey snorted, her fingers brushing against mine as we navigated the corridor. "Oh, Cam," she purred, "you always know how to make a girl feel special. Maybe once we’re done, we can find some sacrilegious spot and you can bury your cock in me."

I grinned, though the expression felt more like a grimace. My dick would fall off if I whipped it out here. It was dank as fuck. My mind raced, piecing together the layout of this undergroundmaze. The corridor split into 3, one main and two side shoots. There had to be a central hub, a place where the worst of the atrocities took place.

"Left here," I muttered, guiding us down the largest tunnel. The air grew thicker, heavier with each step. My skin crawled with anticipation and a sick sort of excitement. Whatever we found at the end of this path, it would be the key to unraveling the mysteries of Lakey's time here.

Suddenly, we came to an abrupt halt. Before us was a massive metal door, its surface pitted and scarred by time and neglect. The lock, once formidable, now hung in a rusted, fragile state.

"Looks like we found the VIP room," I quipped, eyeing the door with a mixture of curiosity and disgust. Without hesitation, I stepped forward, my foot connecting with the door in a swift, powerful kick.

The lock gave way with a sickening crunch, the door swinging open to reveal... Christ. The stench hit me first. Death. Rot. Mold. As we stepped inside, the full horror of the room became apparent.

"Well, fuck me sideways," I breathed, taking in the nightmarish scene before us. "Looks like we stumbled into Satan's rec room."

Lakey's sharp intake of breath beside me was the only indication of her distress. I wanted nothing more than to shield her from this, to whisk her away from the memories that surely came flooding back. But I knew better. This was her fight, and all I could do was stand by her side. And crack some fucking skulls when it came down to it.

"You okay, babe?" I asked softly, my gaze never leaving the grotesque array of instruments and jars that lined the walls.

"Never better," she replied, her voice tight with barely contained fury. "Let's tear this fucking place apart."

We turned to survey the room in its entirety. On one wall hung rusted chains, another had shelves, filled with jars of weird liquid. A sink was in the corner, brown slosh in the bowl and splashed over onto the floor. The color theme in here seemed to be hospital white, mixed with dark brown accents. It looked like a horrible fucking tie die job if you asked me.

“Fuck me, I think that’s skin tissue.”

I turned to gauge Lakey's reaction, but her face had gone pale, her eyes wide with a terror I'd never seen before. She swayed on her feet, her usual fierce demeanor.

"Baby? Babe?" I reached out, concern etching itself across my face.

She didn't respond, her gaze fixed on some unseen horror. In that moment, I saw her not as the badass I'd fallen for, but as the broken girl who'd endured unspeakable horrors in this very room.

"Shit," I muttered, moving quickly. Her knees buckled, and I caught her, wrapping my arms around her trembling form. "I've got you, baby. I've got you."

As if my touch had broken a dam, Lakey let out a scream that chilled me to my core. It wasn't her usual playful shriek or even her angry yell. This was raw, primal - a sound of pure agony and rage that echoed in the room. If we weren’t deep underground, I’d swear it could be heard from outside.

I held her tighter, my mind racing. How the fuck do you comfort someone reliving their worst nightmares? I wasn’t exactly the fucking poster boy for emotional support, but for Lakey, I'd try to be a goddamn teddy bear if that's what she needed.

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