Chapter one
Trey
AC/DC - Highway to Hell
Idon’t look back.
I don’t breathe.
Something’s following me. I feel it. It wants to slip beneath my skin, nuzzle up to my bones—maybe shove my soul out, if I’ve even got one left.
Run.
Run faster. Harder.
That breeze wasn’t a breeze. It had weight. A whisper too close—like breath skating over the shell of my ear, speaking in a language my soul recognizes but my mind doesn’t.
A car horn blares.
“I ain’t got time for you, you tooting motherfucker!”
Fuck—my pants are sliding down my ass. My nipple piercing snags, biting at my shirt. Why don’t they make clothes for pierced baddies that aren’t mesh vests or crotchless BDSM cosplay? I don’t hate the fashion. Far from it. But it’d be nice tohave a convo without someone deciding you’re a dick dragging pervert.
Oh my God… I just slipped on a condom.
Did that have something in it? Do I want to check? No.
I didn’t fall. I didn’t touch it. Small mercy.
Keep moving, Trey.
Every hair on my arms lifts in warning. My spine locks.
I bolt.
The Shanghai Tunnels are behind me now. Somewhere back there, in the dark. I’m—fuck, where am I? Crowds shove past. Music bleeds from an open door. Neon lights. People laughing. Cool place for a drink?
No time, Trey.
“But there’s always time for a drink, my guy.”
You’re not thirsty. You just want to stop running. But if you stop—it catches up.
“Fuck you, mental voice. Can you be less creepy?”
Just sayin’…
“Wait… that girl has a tail. If I compliment her, will it wag? Is she a good girl?”
I can already see how it plays out. She gets offended. I apologize. One of her bros tries to flex. I get knifed, punched, or shot. People scream. Casper catches up and butt-fucks me into the afterlife.
“Fuck you, Casper. I’m a top.”
Sometimes.
“Sometimes.” I agree out loud.
The rain-slick streets of Portland blur beneath me as I pound the pavement. I feel it—still there. The presence. Whatever Idragged out of those tunnels, it’s not done with me yet.
