Descent (Kissed by Death) - Tara Fuller Page 0,30
“We have to get out of here, Red. Now.”
“W-what’s happening?” I said. “What do they want?”
“Me. They want me.”
“Easton!” A shrill voice echoed through the cave and suddenly a girl stood before us, shivering and worn. She resembled the first girl, but older. This one was maybe fifteen. Her skin looked too pale, her eyes too flat to be alive. Easton grabbed my arm and reeled me back against him. His heart hammered against my spine, and despite the fear consuming me, I took a moment to memorize the feeling. As long as I could feel that insistent pulse of life, I knew he was with me. He wasn’t lost to this place.
“Who is she?”
“My sister,” he whispered, backing us toward the exit.
“Your sister?” I looked at the girl, who was inching toward us, sobbing. I could see it, in the sad curve of her mouth, the shape of her eyes. There was no mistaking that she was a part of him. Sorrow billowed off her in thick, choking smoke, strong enough to make my knees buckle beneath me. Fear. Anger. Pain. I could barely breathe through it all. The room was full of emotions, intent on burning us all to the ground. A horde of black-hooded figures gathered around the girl, pulling at her hair, setting fire to her tattered dress.
“We have to help her!” I pulled against Easton’s hold, but he refused to let me free.
“Bitte, Bruder! Lassen Sie mich nicht!” The girl stumbled forward, pulling away from the hands tearing at her, and fell to her knees. Behind her, the crowd parted, and a man approached, dripping wet and laughing. His pale, knobby fingers grabbed her by the hair and hauled her up on her feet. It was him…the man from the water.
“Won’t you save her, Easton?” He laughed. “No? Just as well. Her death will be so much sweeter with you here to hear her screams. Perhaps even sweeter than the screams of my men you slaughtered…maybe we should compare.”
“Don’t look at her. She’s not real.” He stopped at the wall and tore at the vines blocking the entrance. “She’s not real. None of it’s real,” he whispered more to himself than to me.
He was afraid. This…everything happening had been designed to obliterate him.
Shock stunned me for a moment before I leaped to help him tear down the wall of vines that blocked our escape. I grabbed the blade from his shaking hands. It felt awkward and heavy between my palms. Wrong. But it didn’t stop me from lifting it above my head and swinging at the writhing wall in front of me. I didn’t know what was about to happen in this room, but I felt deep inside that Easton must not be here to see it. We had to get out. The fear making my heart race didn’t matter right then. Only Easton. I blinked hard to clear away the fuzziness coating my mind and fought against the vines. Easton paused, breathing hard, and looked at me as if he’d never seen me before.
“Face me, coward!” The man behind us shouted, and a gurgled scream followed. I started to turn, but Easton grabbed my arm and stopped me. His eyes met mine, burning, pleading.
“What are you afraid of, Red?”
“What? Why?”
“Because if we can’t get out…I’d kind of like to know what to expect next.”
Before now, fear wasn’t something that existed in my world. The only thing my Father had ever let me be afraid of was never escaping my box. But now…I was afraid of losing Easton and being alone in this place, of never finding Tyler. But most of all…I was afraid of missing the chance to show him what happiness really was. But instead of admitting any of it, I took a deep breath and said, “I…I don’t know. I’d never been afraid of anything before I met you.”
He shook his head, looking me over like it might be the last time. “I never should have brought you down here.”
“Well, you did,” I breathed, swinging the blade again. “Now are you going to help me get back out or not?”
Behind us, a blood-curdling scream ripped through the air, and Easton winced. I touched his face and forced him to look at me. I didn’t wait for his permission. I simply pulled a layer of his fear into myself and replaced it with a sense of calm. I exhaled a shaky breath, fighting past the panic I’d swallowed down.
“Not real. Remember?”
After a moment