Page 21 of Our Monstrous Hearts

The world freezes.

His eyes stare, hollow dark voids that mimic the hallway. Blood drips from his head to the floor with little plinks, as if a tap of his lifeblood was left running. Something is unsettling about Clayton, like his skin is too smooth, his features too perfect.

My back hits the wall again as I try to stumble away, head shaking in disbelief.

“We’re comin’ for you, bitch. We’re gonna tie you down, burn you alive, shoot our cum in your ashes, and feed what remains to the pigs.” His laughter is cruel, echoing around me and inside my brain, over and over again.

A harrowing wail fills the air, and I slam my hands over my ears.

“Get out, get out, get out,” I mumble frantically, my chest rising and falling with panic. “You’re not real, you’re not. I killed you. I killed him.”

But I know Clayton’s friends are coming for me, that they will find me too, seeking retribution for his death.

Something else must have possessed me the night I killed my husband because I’m still so fucking weak.

Clayton grins as if he can read my thoughts. “You’re gonna be a dead woman, Cassie. Time’s up, you fucken’ bitch. Get ready to swing from a bridge.”

His smile grows ever wider, twisting up as it begins to engulf his face. And as his demonic grin swells, so does his body.

Clayton inflates like a human balloon, the sound of rubber skin as it stretches echoing down the darkened hall. His body turns bulbous as it expands and bulges unnaturally. He rapidly gains size, his stomach swelling to almost touch the ceiling just before he⁠—

Pop.

The shriek that leaves me is unholy as pieces of Clayton––decayed flesh, organs infested by maggots, urine––spray me.

Wetness splatters against my body and skin, the smell of rotting fish and fermenting melon overwhelming my senses and causing me to retch, my stomach curdling as the hallway turns into an ocean of his fetid mass.

Only one word can describe this smell—death.

Death is coming, and it’s coming for me.

A sudden gasp escapes me as I awaken, the sheets drenched in sweat. Abruptly I sit up in bed, clutching my hands to my chest.

I know what I need to do. I have to find Izcacus.

Chapter XIV

Cassandra

Irun through the castle, down corridors that stretch endlessly, fractured colors streaming in through broken stained-glass windows. My bare feet slap hurriedly against the cold stone floor, and I whip my head back to look behind me.

They’re coming.

The flash of déjà vu that hits me almost causes me to stumble. To question if I was back in my dream, or if the dream had been reality. My eyebrows scrunch forward in uncertainty as I doubt my memories. But, no matter what, I can’t stop running. I know in my bones that if I stop running, I will die. I have to find Izcacus before it’s too late.

Clayton’s friends cannot take me. Not alive.

As the sun begins to touch every corner of the hallway, I make my way down, deeper within the heart of the castle, knowing that’s where I’ll find my salvation.

Rusted chains rattle against moss-covered walls, wind whistling through the cracks. As I walk through the cold and damp crypt, where pools of water settled on the stone floor, goosebumps erupt along my arms. There. Izcacus stands in the center, his back to me though I know he hears my arrival.

“Cassandra? My darling, what is the matter?”

He turns, shadows flickering against his face, cast by the iron candelabras that circle the raised platform in the middle of the room.

Striding over to him, I grip the front of his coat fiercely. “You have to change me.”

My eyes narrow as I lean to peer behind Izcacus, watching the shadows move, afraid that someone will jump out from the darkness.