Page 11 of The Nightmare's Kiss

A sudden noise makes me jump—but it’s just the bell for my lunch break. I laugh nervously, hit the button to shut the observation window, and take a moment to gather myself. This will be my first real chance to interact with my coworkers, and I don’t want them to know how rattled I am. I head to the bathroom first, to dab sweat off my forehead and make sure I don’t have any embarrassing pit stains. After a couple of minutes, I still can’t get the image of the humanoid Nightmare out of my head, but at least I’m no longer in danger of a nervous breakdown.

Dr. Wright showed me the door to the break room but didn’t bring me inside. When I enter, I’m surprised it’s not bigger. I was envisioning a big, cafeteria-style space. Instead, it’s just a room with three round metal tables, each with a handful of uncomfortable-looking chairs, along with a small kitchen area with a fridge, microwave, standard-issue coffee maker, and sink. A couple of windows provide a bland view of the parking lot, and the fluorescent bulbs make the whole area look washed-out and flat. I resist the urge to scrutinize all of the shadows in the room, just to make sure they’re the correct size and shape, and instead focus on the coworkers I’m trying to make a good impression on.

Five other people currently occupy the room. One of them, to my great displeasure, is Ethan. I freeze for a moment as we make eye contact, terrified he’s going to invite me over and I’ll be obligated by politeness to go—but instead, he only gives me the tiniest nod before returning to his conversation. Somehow, that leaves me feeling even worse. I swallow hard and walk past him to the kitchenette, grabbing a cup of coffee and my lunch.

When I turn back to the tables, I hesitate again. Ethan is sitting with three men, who are all staring at him in a way that makes me feel like he’s holding court. None of them glance in my direction. The second table—beside them—is empty, and the third is occupied by Ezra, who I met earlier. Indecision tears at me, but after a couple of moments, Ezra notices me and waves me over. I join him with a small sigh of relief. It’s better than sitting alone, and the fact that he’s the only person in the roomnotgazing admiringly at Ethan makes me inclined to like him.

“Mara, right?” he asks as I sip my coffee. It’s pretty bad, but at least it’s hot.

“Yep. How’s it going, Ezra?”

“Just grand. Enjoying your first day?”

“It’s certainly interesting,” I say. Part of me is tempted to say more, but I’m not sure how much I’m allowed to talk about. I stall by taking a big bite out of my turkey-and-Swiss sandwich. While I’m chewing, the door opens, and another employee walks in. I light up at the sight of another woman—I wasn’t exactlyuncomfortablein a room full of only men, but I wasn’tcomfortableeither—but she walks quickly to the fridge without a glance at anyone. Including Ethan, who immediately waves in a failed attempt to get her attention. She grabs something from the fridge and leaves again with her head down. Ethan lowers his hand and mutters something to one of his companions that makes him laugh a bit too hard.

I eye Ethan, and then the door the woman left from. I can’t help but wonder what the story is there, but I’m not going to earn myself a reputation for gossip. Instead, I look at Ezra and say, “I’m surprised there aren’t more of us here.”

“Ah, well.” He shrugs good-naturedly. “They stagger the lunches. I suspect they’re not too fond of us having much time together.”

Thinking of the odd hand-delivered note system, and how I’ve never run into anyone in the hallways, I suspect he’s right. “Weird,” I mutter, before I can censor myself.

Ezra grins. “Oh, believe me. That’s theleastweird thing about this place.”

I suspect he’s right about that too.

8

Chapter Eight

I’m still shaken by the time I get home. The subject remained as it was—uncannily human-shaped, uncomfortably close to the glass, and completely motionless—until the end of my shift. It refused to react to any further stimulus. As I neared the end of the day, rather than recording my overall notes in the observation room, I grabbed the folders and scurried out to the hallway. I finished my paperwork out there, with my back pressed against the door and my heartbeat gradually slowing. It was a breach of protocol, but I couldn’t handle the thought of the Nightmare staring at me any longer.

There was something unnerving about it taking a human shape. It made me think of it differently. It made the thought of conducting experiments on itfeeldifferent. It was no longer something mindless, or even a kind of fascinating animal, but something that looked similar to me.

The shape of it lingers in the back of my mind. I keep thinking I see it out of the corner of my eye, standing on the side of the road as I drive home, silhouetted in my parents’ window as I pull up. I grimace, take a few nervous puffs of my vape, and rub my eyes. I must be overtired and suffering from an adrenaline comedown. That’s all. Even though it’s still relatively early, I want to scarf down a quick meal and head to bed. But those plans are foiled when I walk inside to the smell of food cooking. The bright smell of tomato sauce, savory spices, and browning meatballs…must be my mom’s spaghetti. The scent is practically thick enough to taste, and heavy with nostalgia, helping to ease my nerves.

“Perfect timing, honey!” my mom says, peeking out of the kitchen with a broad smile. “I’m almost done here, and your dad is taking a quick shower. I wasn’t sure if you’d be home for dinner. I tried calling earlier, but your phone was off…?”

Aw, crap. Her questioning look reminds me that I still haven’t had a conversation with my parents about my new job. I wanted to make the decision about taking the offer without any outside input, but it’s not like I can hide it from them, since I’m living here.

“Sorry about that, but yeah, smells great,” I say. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you and Dad about, actually, once we’re all sitting down.” I catch her concerned look and quickly add, “Nothing bad!”

I channel my nervous energy into helping finish the spaghetti sauce while we wait for my dad. The kitchen smells delicious, though sticky with heat as the house’s poor old AC unit struggles with both the heat outside and the stove. I’m sweating by the time the meal is on the tablet. Once it’s all ready, I head back into the kitchen to pour myself a glass of wine, and then return to the table—only to see a tall, dark silhouette in the doorway across from me.

I yelp, wine sloshing out of my cup as I jump back, throwing up my free hand in an attempt to defend myself.

“Mara?” My dad’s brow furrows as he steps into the light.

I let out a shaky breath, embarrassment heating my cheeks. “Oh my gosh. You startled me.” I force a laugh, trying to brush it off as awhoops, silly memoment instead of admitting—even to myself—that for one terrifying moment I thought the Nightmare followed me home from the lab. I managed to forget the stress of the day while I helped my mom, but now it’s back and my stomach is in knots.

That nerve-wracking moment doesn’t make what I have to say any easier. I stall for as long as I can,mmm-ing over the spaghetti and sipping my wine a bit too fast while pretending not to notice the expectant glances from my mom. But finally, my plate and glass are both empty.

“So.” I clear my throat, toy nervously with my empty wineglass. “I wanted to share some good news with you both. I got a job! A local job, believe it or not.”

“Oh, how wonderful, Mara!” My mom gushes immediately, obviously thrilled to keep me close to home. My dad agrees but looks more thoughtful, no doubt running through the limited local job opportunities for someone with a college degree.

“Yeah, I’m excited.” My voice squeaks with nerves. “It’s at the Facility, actually.”

Silence. My mom’s smile gains a frozen quality. The lines of concern on my dad’s face deepen as he glances at the wine stain on my collar from my scare earlier.

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