Page 63 of The Imaginary Friend's Obsession

That demon came to the MRF with a plan. What kind of monster was it hoping to set free? I imagine some huge creature with horns and bloodred claws, a monstrous aberration unleashed to wreak havoc on Ash Valley. Maybe our troubles have only just begun.

I’m about to hurry past and warn Dr. Wright and the rest that a subject is free, but movement within the cell gives me pause. I stop in the doorway and look in and see a man sitting on the edge of the bed. A tall, slender young man with hair like ink and skin like porcelain. He’s bent over, clutching his head.

I hesitate, confused. Is that Subject X-16? Why did Godric go through so much trouble to release what appears to be a normal young man, and why is he still in his cell when the door is wide open?

I step toward him. “Hello? Are you all right?”

He flinches at the sound of my voice, angling his shoulders away. “Don’t come any closer!”

His voice slams into me like a physical force. I gasp, mind going blank, and the next thing I know I’m on my knees, my hands braced on the floor. An immense pressure weighs on my shoulder, forcing my spine to bend.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and the pressure is gone as quickly as it arrived. I scramble to my feet again, heart racing. “I’m sorry! I just…something is happening. I…” He cuts off in a groan of pain, clawing at his own face. Blood drips from between his fingers.

“Let me help you,” I say. Fear is weakening my knees, making it hard to breathe, but still, it’s obvious he’s in pain. “Tell me what I can do—”

He lowers his hand, turning to me. His eyes meet mine, and they are bloodred, burning. Pure hellfire. And in the center of his forehead, a third eye is emerging from his skin, its slit pupil focusing on me.

“Get out and shut the door,” he rasps, and his voice echoes in my mind.

My mind goes white again. The next thing I am aware of, I’m standing in the hallway, in front of a closed metal door.

* * *

I rush through the door of Dr. Wright’s office, breathing hard.

She turns her chair to face me with a thin smile. “There you are. I was half afraid you’d leave and—”

“There’s something wrong with X-16,” I blurt out.

She pauses, eyes widening in immediate concern. “Sixteen?”

I nod, wrapping trembling arms around myself. I explain what I saw from the moment I found his cell open, and Dr. Wright’s shoulders slump in relief as I relay that I shut the door as I left.

“Well, thank God he’s still contained,” she murmurs.

“He seemed like he was in pain,” I say. “He didn’t try to hurt me or anything…”

“He nevertriesto hurt anybody,” she says. “But trust me, it’s good you got out of there when you did.” She turns, and I realize that we’re not alone in the room. On the other side of her office, a redheaded woman is seated in front of Ezra, shining a flashlight in his eyes. “Ms. Sullivan,” says Dr. Wright, “I’ll have to sedate him first, but would you mind taking a look at X-16 for me before you leave?”

The woman shuts off the flashlight and looks over at us, eyeing me curiously before nodding to Dr. Wright. “Whatever you need. I’m in town all weekend.”

“And we are fortunate that’s the case. How’s our Mr. Bradford?”

Ezra looks over and flashes us a thumbs-up. “I’m good,” he says, though his bruised and battered face looks far from it.

“He’s mildly concussed and lucky not to have a broken nose,” the redhead says dourly. “But from what I’ve heard, it could’ve been a lot worse.”

“See? Even Lucy says I’m good,” Ezra says. He shoots us a crooked smile and then winces from the effort.

“Not what I said.” She nudges his shoulder and then stands and walks over to me. “Your face,” she murmurs, studying it.

I almost forgot about the gouges Godric left across my skin when I fought him in my mind. I reach up a hand to touch the marks and wince.

“Could I take a look, and examine you for any side effects?” Lucy asks.

I shrink back from her, my mind flashing to tests and doctors and a padded cell, but at Ezra’s encouraging nod, I force myself to relax. “Yes.”

As she pulls up a chair beside me and begins looking over my wounds, Dr. Wright sits back in her chair and folds her arms over her chest.

---