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
I try to warn Ava, but my voice won't work. She keeps talking, oblivious, until the
behind her.
scream, but no sound comes out. The shadow reaches for Ava, engulfing her, dragging her away as she kicks and struggles. I lunge for her, but my feet
She's gripping the armrests, making a joke about the turbulence. I reach for her hand to comfort her, but the plane lurches, throwing us forward. Oxygen Ava's screaming.
Impact.
rends. Flames erupt. Pain sears. Ava's hand.
the last. Ava, drowning in a sea of
55000
monsters. And always, I'm
watch as she suffers.
against my chains, but I can't escape. I can't wake up. The horrors play out again and again, an endless loop of
I
throat feels raw, my limbs heavy and weak. Marisol kneels beside me. holding a bowl of that foul-smelling liquid to
hits my tongue, but I force myself to swallow. Anything to chase
torment.
a curious intensity. "How often has the Master fed from you?" she asks, her
once," I rasp out, wincing at the pain in my
not for a single feeding."
you
face as she mutters, "He must favor y greatly, for a single taste to affect
know how to respond to that. The idea that this monster might favor me fills me with nothing but a
]]
room, tie lase mast but
weten, my mind dealle
Mariel's odd behavior.
I want is
ere will die
mure endle
she doesn't wees to care about
me agan her hate prodding
detach that
press against my neck, my wrists, my ankles. It's only when she peers
my voice rough from disuse and screaming. "He
repeats, as if tasting
agonizing pain, and the sickening rush of pleasure that followed, makes bile rise in my throat,
return.
hard, trying to push the sensation
wistful in her expression, a longing that I
Lisa Fevers and
For
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