I shook my head, trying to clear the stars from my vision, and glared at the small bathroom. The window was behind me, the light of the cabin flickering faintly as if daring me to try again. My hands were slick with blood, dirt, and vomit, but I didn't care. I had to get to Zyla.
I swung my leg over the toilet, steadying myself on the edge of the sink, and stepped carefully into the tiny space. The door to the main cabin creaked faintly ahead. My pulse pounded in my ears, and every instinct screamed at me that something was waiting. Shadow. That twisted, haunting presence.
"Alright," I muttered through gritted teeth, clutching the small branch I had been using as a weapon. "Let's see how scary you really are."
I edged toward the door, every step careful but deliberate. The cabin was quiet, almost too quiet. The orb Keuirsue had cast glimmered faintly from the living room, but I didn't feel it push me back. It must be stronger at the center, I guessed, but I'll figure it out.
Then a cold chill rolled through the air, and I froze. A shadow flickered at the edge of my vision, coiling and twisting unnaturally. My stomach clenched. Of course it's Shadow. Of course. I tightened my grip on the branch and stepped forward.
"Zyla," I whispered, trying to keep my voice steady, "I'm coming for you. You hear me? Hang on."
The shadow moved faster, wrapping around the cabin like liquid smoke. I swung the branch blindly, praying it would do something, anything, but it passed through harmlessly, teasing me. My chest tightened, fear mixing with anger. I'd fought demons before, but this… this felt personal.
I shook my head, forcing my fear down. "You want to play? Fine. I'll play." I lunged forward toward the center of the room, toward Zyla, knowing that the nightmare couldn't stop me—not if I didn't let it. Dirt, blood, vomit—none of it mattered. All that mattered was getting to her before Shadow could claim her completely.
And I wouldn't fail. Not this time.
I swung the branch at Shadow, trying to land a hit, but it slipped through my grasp like smoke. My chest heaved, muscles screaming, every nerve on edge. Then… footsteps. Fast, heavy, and too close. My stomach dropped.
I dove under the bed, heart slamming, barely holding my breath. The door burst open with a deafening slam, and a blinding light shot from Constant's hands, striking the shadow. It shrieked, dissolving instantly into nothing.
"It stinks in here! Gross!" Keuirseu's voice broke the tension, echoing off the walls.
"Do you think she's… you know, farting?" he whispered, clearly trying not to laugh.
"Please close the door," Cyrus said, his nose scrunched in disgust.
The door shut. I stayed under the bed, trying not to gag, but the stench of the demon clung to me. Dirt, blood, and vomit mixed with it—it was unbearable. Finally, I crawled out, shivering and still gagging, wiping myself down as best I could.
I didn't have time to dwell. I opened the nearest window, yanked it open, and shoved Zyla out onto the ground. She didn't stir, limp in my arms. I threw her over my shoulder, bracing for the weight, and took a deep shaky breath. My legs trembled, muscles quivering under the strain.
Then I saw it. The demon I'd vomited on, grinning and pointing. Behind it, others appeared, shrieking and snarling. My blood boiled. I started running, dodging and weaving, the demons chasing me—until they slammed into Keuirseu's orb, smacking against the invisible shield.
I stuck my tongue out at them and slipped through the orb… but Zyla didn't. Her small hand clung uselessly to mine. I pulled and pulled, heart in my throat, but she wouldn't budge.
I saw the boys attacking the demons outside. Light flared, the shield flickering, and finally, with one last tug, I dragged Zyla through into the forest. My muscles burned, legs trembling, but I didn't stop. I stayed low, listening to the horrifying sounds behind us, every scream and roar sending adrenaline through my veins.
I set her down for a brief second, kneeling beside her limp form. "I wish you were awake," I whispered, voice tight with frustration and worry. My hands shook as I brushed hair from her face. "You're not… light."
Swallowing hard, I hoisted her over my shoulder again, each step slow and exhausting, but I made it to the car I had stolen earlier. Every bump on the road rattled me, my eyelids heavy, fighting sleep—but honk after honk snapped me awake, eyes wide and alert.
Finally, I reached our town. I left the car in front of Zyla's house, dragging her toward her room window. I shoved her inside, gently but firmly into her bed, covering her with blankets. My body sagged with relief and exhaustion, and before I could even fix my hair or wipe my face, I collapsed right on top of her, breathing in her faint scent, letting the exhaustion take over.
For the first time all night, I allowed myself to sleep.
At first, it was still dark.
Shadow's laughter curled around me like chains, dragging me deeper into the dream. I tried to scream, but my voice echoed into nothing. The forest in my nightmare twisted and folded in on itself, branches reaching for me like hands. I ran but sank deeper, like the ground wanted to swallow me whole.
"Zyla…" a voice whispered—familiar, warm. But it was far away, fading.
Wake up, something urged. Or maybe I begged myself. I didn't know.
Suddenly the shadow lunged.
I gasped—air rushing into my lungs, my eyes snapping open.
Everything was heavy. A weight pressed on my chest and stomach. My vision blurred, the world spinning between dream and waking. My room faded into view—the window cracked open, curtains fluttering, moonlight cutting across the floor.
My head throbbed. My body ached.
Then I felt it.
Warm breath against my shoulder. A soft groan. Hair tickling my cheek. Something heavy sprawled across me like a sack of potatoes mixed with exhaustion and desperation.
"…Kenna?" My voice cracked.
She didn't move.
I slowly lifted my hand, pushing her tangled, dirt-covered hair out of my face. She reeked of forest mud, blood, and… something vile. I winced.
Her arm slipped from my side and flopped onto the bed like she'd been dragged through hell—because she had.
"Kenna?" I whispered again, softer, fear and gratitude mixing in my chest.
She mumbled something into my shirt that sounded like, "M'not dead. Just tired."
My throat tightened. I didn't know everything that happened yet, but I could tell—her clothes were ripped, her face had scratches, dirt smeared on her cheek, dried blood on her forehead, and her whole body trembled in her sleep.
She saved me. Again.
I tried to lift myself, but she had me pinned. My pulse kicked up. "Kenna… are you okay?"
She groaned and shifted slightly, still half-asleep. "Don't… don't wake me up. I fought… a booger demon."
I blinked. "…A what?"
"Don't," she muttered. "It sneezed on me. I threw up. I'm traumatized."
A laugh slipped out before I could stop it—soft, shaky, relieved.
The nightmare's claws slowly loosened. Shadow's voice faded, replaced by Kenna's breathing, steady and real.
I reached up and rested my hand on her back, grounding myself in her warmth.
"Kenna… thank you."
She didn't respond. Not fully.
She just pressed her forehead into my shoulder and whispered, half-dreaming:
"I'm never letting them take you. Ever."
My heart clenched. The room felt smaller, safer, somehow.
I closed my eyes, the last threads of fear unraveling. With her weight on me, her warmth, her stubbornness—my nightmare couldn't touch me.
Not tonight.
Slowly, quietly, I drifted back to sleep.
But this time… I wasn't alone.