Page 7 of The Midnight Realm
When the light goes out of his eyes and his head lolls, I release a long sigh of relief. I roll off his body and stagger into the small bathroom. My reflection is hideous, my face covered in blood and my platinum hair stained pink. I smile and find even my teeth are covered with it. Makes sense since I had my mouth open when I made my strike.
I’m a monster, and I start to laugh.
Dropping the knife in the sink, I walk out of the bathroom. Well,walkisn’t quite the right word. I shuffle as if drunk or high, and maybe I am.
Euphoria coursing through me, I lurch out of my apartment and practically fall down the stairs. I push through the crowded bar, and a few people scream when they see me.
One man reaches out a tentative hand. “Are you okay?”
“Do I look okay?” I ask, then peals of laughter start again. The man jerks his hand back.
I push people out of my way as I head for the front door. When I reach it, Sam’s there, staring at me in horror. “Oh my god, Nyssa. What happened? Do you need an ambulance?”
I find that funny too. “No, Sam. Thank you. An ambulance is definitely not needed.”
Pushing through the door into Toledo’s summer heat, I’m vaguely aware of Sam and a few patrons following me out. I have no clue where I’m going, but I look left, then right. The streets are crowded with bar hoppers, people making wide arcs to clear a path as they take in my appearance. Across the street sits a waiting cab, and I’ve got some cash in my pocket.
A hand touches my arm, and I turn to see Sam. “Let me help you,” he says kindly.
I laugh again, then make myself stop to give him some respect. “No one can help me, Sam. I’m beyond help.”
“You’re not,” he insists.
I pull my arm free and start backing toward the curb. I keep my eyes pinned on Sam, trying to accept the sympathy in his gaze.
It bounces right off me.
“Fuck this,” I snarl, finally realizing I’m in deep shit. I just murdered a man. Spinning, I make to dart across the street for the cab. I need to put distance between me and the dead body upstairs. I ease off the curb and take no more than two steps before a horn draws my attention.
Twisting my head left, I gape at the city bus bearing down on me. I hear the shriek of brakes, people scream from the sidewalk, and then the bus slams into me. For the briefest of moments, I feel pain in every molecule of my body, and then it all goes black.
***
Unbearable heat isthe first thing I register as consciousness returns. I open my eyes, clearly remembering the bus hitting me. I brace for what I know will be excruciating pain, but all I feel is stifling heat making my skin prickle.
Blinking several times, I start to panic because I can’t see, but then realize I’m in a very darkened room.
A hospital?
I sit up, pressing a hand down for leverage, and I’m stunned to not feel a mattress but a dirt floor. “What the fuck?”
Rolling to my knees, I push up to my feet. I have no pain whatsoever, but I’m not relieved. I’m distinctly anxious.
As my eyes adjust, I focus on my accommodations. The thick metal bars dredge up the panic welling inside me.
A jail cell?
I move to the bars, wrap my fingers around them, and peer out of my mini prison.
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter as I take it all in.
A midnight sky with low-hanging stars, a hill made of shiny black rock sprouting from the ground and pushing higher still, and an obsidian castle with turrets and spires rising so tall, I can barely see the tips. A red river of thick lava flows between my cell and the castle, the source of the heat I feel.
My head twists and I take in other cells carved into the side of a mountain. Thick grates covering black holes and from within those spaces, I hear screaming and howling laced with deep misery, regret, and terror.
I’m not in a hospital.
I’m fairly confident I’m in Hell.
