The next night, I went looking for a distraction again. Found it in the form of a model type, statuesque, barely talked, just smirked a lot. She came back to mine and stripped before I even offered a drink. I should’ve been into it. She was textbook perfect.
But she wasn’t her. Misfit finding her way into my brain, her dark eyes glaring at me from the opposite side of the bed, a touch of a smile on her lips. I made up some shitty excuse about being tired, and she left without saying anything. I punched the wall after the door closed.
I started Googling shit, women with red eyes, unnatural strength, black market enhancers. Urban legends, real sightings. It spiralled from there. I found a few conspiracy threads, some dark forums that mentioned veiled ones, as well as weird accounts about some dense forest just outside thecity. Wardenwood. But nothing solid. Nothing I could trust. Just madding accounts masquerading as truth. But even that madness started to feel less crazy than what I’d seen in person. I thought about following Misfit, checking where she went. Seeing who she spoke to. But that felt like a line I shouldn’t cross; I wasn’t up to gaining a stalker status. Didn’t stop me from thinking about it though.
I hadn’t even opened any messages from Squeeks in a couple of days; no doubt she would be showing up soon.
But when I did eventually drift off to sleep, I was startled awake in the early hours from a nightmare. Manic gripping me, her eyes burning brighter, like flares. Misfit stood behind her, not moving, not speaking, just watching as I tried to cling to life.
I sat up, drenched in sweat. I didn’t hesitate this time. Reaching over for my phone, I called her. It rang. And rang until hitting voicemail. But I couldn’t bring myself to leave one.
CHAPTER 26
Icouldn’t take much more of this, the not knowing, the paranoia sitting behind my eyes. I needed it to stop. I needed out of my own fucking skin. The walls of the flat felt too tight. Every surface reminded me of her and the way she looked at me when she lied through her teeth like it cost her nothing. That calm, blank face, while the truth that I knew was there, bled underneath. The voice returned, harshly rattling around my brain, repeating the same words. His tone was getting deeper with each passing hour as I attempted to ignore him.
“She's a liar!”
I needed it to stop, I needed him to stop. I left the flat, walking straight past the car towards somewhere I didn’t think I ever wanted to set foot inside again—Danny’s.
I knew he wouldn’t be home. Thursday night meant pub and poker with that scumbag lot he ran with. He wouldn’t be back until late, if at all. I didn’t knock, just used the key he didn’t know I still had. The door clicked open as I barged into it with my shoulder. The place hadn’t changed one bit; it was dark and stale, with the scent of old weed and leftover Chinese food.
The moment I stepped in, it was like I was breathing easier already. This was the kind of poison I understood, the kind of poison which oddly grounded me.
No surprise that mum was out, and Squeeks too. The place was mine for the taking. I moved, heading straight into his bedroom. Third drawer down on his bedside table, taped underthe base. He always thought he was clever hiding it there, his own personal stash.
The small metal tin felt cool against my fingertips. I let out a satisfied snicker as I pried it loose, flipping the lid open and staring at the contents for a moment. Two neat baggies. One with white powder. The other with little blue pills that looked deceptively innocent. A smirk appeared on my lips as I didn’t hesitate to help myself. I crushed a line on the cracked glass of Danny’s bedside table, using the back of my bank card to shape it. Rolled a note within my fingers and sniffed, hard.
The hit came sharp and hot, tearing through my skull like a bullet dipped in fire, and I gasped as my vision pixelated for a second. The world swam, tilted, and then, silence. Fucking finally.
My limbs went loose, my jaw unclenched, and the racing thoughts in my head just fizzled out. All that weight Misfit had left behind, the questions, the dread, the feeling of being ten steps behind something monstrous. It all went underwater.
I sat back on Danny’s bed, head tipped against the wall, watching the shadows stretch along the ceiling like ink bleeding through paper. I didn’t care that this wasn’t mine. Didn’t care that I’d probably catch shit for it later. Right now, my body didn’t ache. My chest didn’t squeeze every time I thought of her. My mind wasn’t chewing itself to pieces.
I was, weightless.
I sat there for a moment longer, eyes unfocused, the dull hum of bliss washing over my limbs. But then my gaze slid back to the tin in my hand. I wasn’t done. I stuffed the rest of it into my pocket. The pills, the powder, all of it. Slammed the drawer shut and staggered up, light-headed. The room pulsed with each heartbeat, like the walls were breathing. I didn’t lock the door on the way out. Didn’t give a shit. As I made my way downthe street, everything started to spin. The night air hit me, the chemical fog swimming through my blood.
That’s when my phone rang, Misfit. Of course. I hadn’t heard a single word from her since that meeting, and the moment I drowned her out, she rose from the shadows. I scoffed, the bitter edge of it catching in my throat. Perfect fucking timing.
“You're unbelievable. What, lost control of your pet monster and need someone to pet-sit?” She paused until her voice came through, faltering just enough to betray the concern buried under it.
“Where are you?” I chuckled.
“Someone's spicy, you miss me already?”
Her voice changed when she spoke again—no more silk in her tone, just steel. “You’re high.”
I grinned at nothing, eyes wide and glassy. “Ten points to Ravenclaw.”
She exhaled sharply, “Screech, listen to me—”
“I’m not doing this,” the laughter dropping from my voice like dead weight. “Not tonight. I just got that demon out of my head, so don’t bother playing the saviour card.”
“You don’t get to pull this shit,” she snapped. “I will come find you. Don’t think I won’t.”
“You’re not my fucking keeper.” My voice rose with it, too loud in the empty street. “You want control? Wrangle your blood-eyed freak show. I’m out.”
“I’m serious, Screech.”
