Page 96 of The Art of Obsession
41
Oh, sure, let’s blame the traumatic crypt incident for summoning me
Chapter Playlist:
“Dear Agony” – Breaking Benjamin
“The Downward Spiral” – Nine Inch Nails
“Lithium” – Evanescence
“Shatter Me” – Lindsey Sterling ft Lzzy Hale
EVERLEIGH
The chains lower with a slow,metallic groan, and my arms drop like dead weight.
I collapse into Cal’s waiting arms, my body shaking as if I’ve been wrung dry of everything. He holds me together when I feel like I might shatter.
A moment later, he’s sitting against the coffin with my back to his chest, his clothed chest. I’m more vulnerable than ever, but the cold stone floor chills the welted flesh of my ass. And his strong arms hold my quaking body. I barely feel the blood droplets against my shoulder, the ones I spilled when I stabbed his chest.
“Shh…” he whispers against my ear, holding me through the pain.
Other than my ragged breaths, the air is so eerie and still. The dim moonlight filters through the cracks above, casting long, jagged shadows that stretch across the damp stone floor. A faint, earthy scent rises—soil, moss, and something faintly metallic, like the ghost of old blood.
I feel Cal’s heartbeat against my spine. Then, his voice comes low and steady, grounding me. “Everleigh,” he says, the word both a question and an invitation.
I close my eyes, leaning into his warmth, and let the words tumble out. “It was a cemetery.”
His arms tighten around me, but he doesn’t interrupt.
“It was years ago,” I continue, my voice cracking like an old tombstone. “I was on assignment, researching this ancient cemetery deep in the Appalachian Mountains.”
The memory rises, vivid and relentless. I can almost feel the crisp autumn air again, cool and sharp against my skin. The towering trees had loomed overhead, their fiery leaves glowing like embers in the fading sunlight. The cemetery was tucked away in a hollow, hidden from the world, its iron gates rusted and twisted with age.
“I thought it was just another job,” I say. “Documenting inscriptions, mapping the grounds, taking notes. But then I went inside this crypt… and the door—it just closed behind me. Slammed shut.”
A shiver runs through me, and Cal’s grip tightens, his warmth anchoring me to the present. “I thought it was a prank at first,” I whisper. “Maybe some local kids messing around. But when I tried to open the door, it wouldn’t budge. And the windows—they had iron bars on them. I was trapped.”
I can almost see the crypt again, its walls cold and unyielding, the faint smell of decay lingering in the air.
“I was alone in there for three days,” I continue, my voice barely audible. “Three days with nothing but my bottled water, a couple of protein bars, and a coffin.”
His body stiffens slightly, but he doesn’t let go. He feels like a shield, protecting me as I spill my darkest secret.
“I started talking to Cherry then,” I admit, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. “I’d never done that before. But I needed someone—something—to keep me sane.”
Oh, sure, let’s blame the traumatic crypt incident for summoning me.She rolls her eyes and turns her wings toward me, sticking out her tongue.Not your penchant for dark, brooding fantasies.
“I started imagining all these…twisted things. Like some dark ghost or vampire coming to save me, but only after…” I hesitate, my cheeks flushing with shame, but Acheron doesn’t press. “Only after making love to me against the coffin.”
Three days in a tomb with a coffin and no vampire? Talk about false advertising.
“It was the only way I could cope. Fantasizing about someone strong and dark and relentless coming for me. It got me through. That, and the hope that someone would find me.”
Honestly, I should’ve charged you for the emotional support services back then. Therapy doesn’t come cheap, honey.She inclines her head to me and blows me a kiss.But you could’ve imagined a knight in shining armor. You went straight for the coffin smut. Respect, sweetie pie.
The flickering light above seems to dim, the shadows deepening around us as I relive those endless hours.
