Tangled

Chapter 166

166

166

166 Lisa: Fevers and Dreams

LISA

How long has it been?

A few days?

Weeks?

The sun should keep me oriented, but a fever gets me the first night I'm there.

The girl, Marisol, comes by every so often. Always with food. A few times with bowls filled with some noxious liquid that has my nostrils trying to close, avoiding the smell coming from within. She's expressionless as she shoves it down my throat, and I'm too weak to fight her off.

It's medicine, I think.

I think that because I slowly get better after the third bowl,

In between moments of lucidity, I dream.

Normal life. Home. Mom and Dad.

Working with Ava at Beaniverse.

Flirting with that cute guy who accidentally wandered into our professor's Eng Lit class instead of some sort of philosophy class

two doors down.

Cozy, happy dreams, of a place far from here..

An escape from the reality that chains me.

17:37

At some point the dreams turn from happy comfort to something uneasy and dark.

Sunshine warms my face as Ava and I relax at our favorite cafe,

sipping lattes and chatting. For a moment, the world feels right again, like I'm back where I belong

But then the shadows come

snaking across the ground. I try to warn Ava, but my voice won't work. She keeps talking, oblivious, until the

behind her.

away as she kicks and struggles. I lunge for her, but my

on a plane, Ava beside me. She's gripping the armrests, making a joke about the turbulence. I reach for her hand to comfort her, but the plane lurches,

Impact.

and rends. Flames erupt. Pain

last. Ava, drowning in a sea of

55000

monsters. And always, I'm helpless to save her,

watch as she suffers.

thrash against my chains, but I can't escape. I can't wake up. The horrors

I

Marisol kneels

I force myself to

torment.

"How often has the Master fed from you?" she asks, her voice almost

once," I rasp out, wincing at the pain

for a single feeding." There's something in her tone, an undercurrent

you

she mutters, "He must favor y greatly, for a single taste to affect

don't know how to respond to that. The idea that this monster might

]]

lase mast

weten, my mind dealle

Mariel's odd

aut all I want is to curl

ere will die

mure endle

wees to

me agan her hate prodding at

that make me

doing. Her fingers press against my neck, my wrists, my ankles. It's only when she peers down at my shoulder that I realize what she's

out, my voice rough from disuse and screaming. "He only bit

and she looks at me with a strange intensity. "Only once," she repeats, as if tasting the words. "But the withdrawal... it's so strong. He must have

pain, and the sickening rush of pleasure that followed,

return.

trying to push the

a longing that I can't quite

Lisa Fevers and

For

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