Page 53 of Hell House
“You can have my blanket if you want.” I offer, gathering the heavy comforter from my bed. I hand her the rolled-up bundle to which she takes gratefully, dripping it around herself like she’s a Sith Lord. “Do you want me to get you anything? Water?” She reaches out for my wrist and shakes her head.
“Please, don’t leave me right now.”
I sit across from her and hold onto her hand, letting her wrap her frigid fingers around my warm ones.
“I’m not going anywhere. Do you want to talk about it?”
She hesitates, her eyes looking unfocused as she decides. I squeeze her hands, letting her know I’m there and that’s all it takes for her to snap back, clear and focused.
“I’ve had nightmares for as long as I can remember, but I’ve never woken up somewhere other than my bed until tonight. The night of the fire, I was having another episode. I woke up screaming like… like someone shook me awake. They’ve gotten more intense since I’ve arrived here.”
I run my thumbs across the backs of her hands. “I know that stress can trigger them, and I’m sure that’s probably what it is.” She says dismissively. But, her haunted look, the screams that tore at her throat plague my mind. “I’m- I’m so embarrassed. Thank you for this.”
“Salem, it’s fine.”
“I just need a moment and I’ll be out of your hair.”
“You don’t need to leave. You can stay here, if you want. I can take Sloan’s bed, he’s never here anyway.”
“Whereishe, I never see him around.”
“He stays up in the game room. He tends to pass out on the couch up there.”
“I don’t want to kick you out of your bed.”
I smile, pulling her over to me, tucking her close to my body. “If you insist.”
She lets herself smile a soft, tired flickering of a smile. I boop her on her button nose.
“Let’s get you some sleep.” She lays back, tucked in tight under my blanket. I lay next to her and smooth her hair down, looking in her heavy-lidded gaze. Her warm vanilla scent hits me as she snuggles in close.
“Thank you, Walker.”
I kiss her on her forehead. “Anytime, wildcat.”
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Salem
Iwake, weighed down. The scent of leather and cedar surround me. Where am I? My eyes feel heavy with sleep, but I know that is not my ceiling. I turn my head and take in Walker’s sleeping form. His arm thrown across my middle.
The nightmare slams into me, reminding me how I woke trembling in Walker’s grip. His hands holding me up, while my knees buckled beneath me.
It‘ s different this time. I’m in the house. Hell House. The remnants of a party are scattered around me. I walk through the empty room and it’s eerily quiet. I follow the urging sensation to go to the basement, passing the carved cherubs on the stairs who’s features look animated, almost like they’re talking to each other.
“They’re waiting for you.” A distant voice says.
“Who?” I ask. My voice sounding far away and strangled.
“Come.”
My legs carry me over strewn sleeping bodies. I’m careful to not wake them, stepping carefully as my weight creaks against the wooden boards. I come to the precipice of the stairs, my body stalls, wanting to stay up here, where it’s warm. Safe.
“Come.” The voice urges and I can’t help but obey.
My bare feet slap against the steep stairs that lead to the basement. I pass Walker’s door and I ache to go inside to the musician that makes me feel seen. But, in this dream I can’t do anything but follow this distance voice.
I come to a doorway and that’s when the illusion fades away and I’m standing in a cave looking at a wall of broken up rock. There’s a large split in the wall, black and writhing with bodies. Or what used to be bodies.
