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
the edges of my vision, dark tendrils snaking across the ground. I try to warn Ava, but my voice
behind her.
out. The shadow reaches for Ava, engulfing her, dragging her away as she kicks and struggles. I lunge
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, throwing us forward. Oxygen Ava's screaming. I'm screaming. The world outside the windows is a blur of sky and
Impact.
screeches and rends. Flames erupt. Pain sears. Ava's hand. slips
nightmares keep coming, each more horrific than the last. Ava, drowning
55000
unseen monsters. And always, I'm
watch as she suffers.
up. The horrors play out again and again, an endless
finally, mercifully, I do wake
heavy and weak. Marisol kneels beside me. holding a bowl of that foul-smelling liquid
the bitter liquid hits my tongue, but I force myself
torment.
with a curious intensity. "How often has the Master fed
once," I rasp out, wincing at the pain in
a single feeding." There's something in her tone, an undercurrent of emotion I can't
you
"He must favor y greatly, for a
to that. The idea that this monster might favor me fills
]]
mast but no words
weten, my mind dealle
with Mariel's
want is to curl up
ere will die
mure endle
she doesn't wees to care about
agan her hate prodding at
that make
fingers press against my neck, my wrists, my ankles. It's only when
I rasp out, my voice rough from
with a strange intensity. "Only once," she repeats, as if tasting the words. "But the
and the sickening rush of pleasure that
return.
trying to push the sensation
a
Fevers
For
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