Because I was desperate to seehim? Because I wanted to provokehim? Because I wanted to prove to myself that I wasn’t crazy?
Iamcrazy. Putting myself in this position proves it.
"Get off," I say, finally voicing my needs.
Jimi lifts up, his brow knitting. "What’s wrong?"
"We have to stop." My hands push against his chest, but he’s too heavy.
He shakes his head, brows still knitted in confusion. Rocking his hips, he asks, "Doesn’t that feel good? Don’t you want this hard dick, baby?"
Out of the corner of my eye, a change in the room’s darkness catches my attention. An inky shadow stretches out, creeping from beneath my bed. I try to convince myself it’s the vodka playing tricks on my perception, but the shadow persists.
This isn’t a mere trick of the light or my overactive imagination.
Adrenaline spikes through my body. Oh God. It worked. It actually fucking worked.
The clumsy movements of Jimi above me, his uncomfortable weight, it all fades into the background. The captivating spectacle of the elongating shadow dominates my attention.
It advances up the far wall, its inky blackness spreading, permeating the room with a pulsating fury. It radiates outward in a wave of icy hate. My heart pounds in response, fear gripping me tight, so I can’t pull my gaze away.
Adrenaline rushes through me as long-hidden memories awaken. The terrors of my childhood, yes, but also thefascination, the anticipation, the reckless longing. I recognize this presence.Hehas come for me. Just as I secretly hoped he would.
This time I slam my hands into Jimi’s chest. "You need to go. Now."
"Hey," he protests at my rough push. "No need to get violent. Damn."
"Get off her." A dissonant voice speaks in a low unnatural timbre. It sends shivers rippling up my spine as panic explodes in my brain.
Just as Jimi twists around to see who has spoken, his body is yanked off mine. He bellows as he collides with the ceiling. Then he’s launched sideways until he slams into the wall and drops to the floor like a large sack of potatoes.
An angry knock on the thin wall, along with a muffled angry yell to be quiet comes from my neighbor.
My voice freezes in my throat as my fingers dig into my sheets, unable to do anything but watch. Jimi scrambles to his knees at the end of my bed. I can see the whites of his wild eyes as he searches the room.
"Run," I tell him in a shaky whisper.
But it’s too late. The massive shadow emerges, separating itself from the darkness of the room until it is its own entity. Jimi turns to stone, eyes bulging from his skull.
Knees pulled up, I clutch the bra to my chest with one hand. Heat razes my bare skin, boiling me in shame, knowinghesees what I’ve done.
"What the—" Jimi says in awe, before he is whipped off the floor again. Suspended in the air, he faces the dark mass. Jimi’s hands claw at the shadowy tendrils wrapped around his throat while he chokes and sputters.
"No one touches her," the monster hisses in his face.
A musty smell blooms. Jimi pissed himself.
Power surges in the room, threatening to explode and unleash its destructive force. I know what’s coming. I’ve witnessed it before.
Launching forward onto my knees, still on the bed, I reach out a hand to stop him. "Don’t. Let him go." My voice grates across my throat like a piece of broken glass along a bed of sand.
The energy ceases to build as the shadow tilts its head in my direction.
"Please." The word escapes my lips in a shaky whisper.
For a long moment, the creature doesn’t move. Jimi continues to sluggishly struggle. Any fight is slowly but surely being squeezed out of him. I shake where I’m perched on the bed, my nerves on fire with the terrifying thrill of what’s unfolding before my eyes.
The monster snaps into action. The tendrils holding Jimi shoot out of my room, whisking my ill-advised hookup with them.
