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
to
behind her.
for Ava, engulfing her, dragging her away as she kicks and struggles.
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 ground, rushing
Impact.
screeches and rends. Flames erupt. Pain sears. Ava's
drowning
55000
always, I'm helpless to save
watch as she suffers.
up. The horrors play out
I do wake
drenched in sweat. My throat feels raw, my limbs heavy and weak. Marisol kneels beside me.
tongue, but I force myself
torment.
the Master fed from you?" she asks, her voice almost
question. "Just once," I rasp out, wincing at the
this strong, not for a single feeding." There's something in her tone, an undercurrent of emotion
you
as she mutters, "He must favor y
might
]]
lase mast but no words
weten, my mind dealle
with Mariel's
all I want is to curl
ere will die
mure endle
doesn't wees to care about
me agan her hate prodding at my skin with
detach that make me
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
"Only once," she repeats, as if tasting the words. "But the withdrawal... it's so strong. He must have
and the sickening rush of pleasure that followed,
return.
to
and resting her check on them as she stares at me. There's something wistful in her expression, a longing that I can't quite
Lisa Fevers and
For
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