The Imaginary Friend’s Obsession (Monster Research Facility #3)

Chapter Twenty-Five

I gasp awake, pulling air into my starved lungs. Terror still grips me, making my chest tight and my heart pound. My cheek burns where Godric’s claws raked my skin. But I am awake . I am out. I escaped the prison of my own mind. This is real, and I am here in the attic. I clutch the mirror to ground myself, gripping it so hard that it hurts. The pain is almost comforting. I look at my own reflection, see the bleeding gashes over my cheekbone.

“Ezra.” My voice trembles. He’s kneeling in front of me in the pentagram, his head lowered. “We had it all wrong. It wasn’t me or Dorian that killed my parents. And it wasn’t my house that’s haunted. It’s me, it’s been me this whole time, he’s been inside of my head this whole time …”

I look up and my breath catches. Ezra is staring at me, unblinking, head cocked at an unnatural angle. Blood drips from one nostril, spills over his lips and down his chin to splatter on the floorboards, and he doesn’t react.

For a heart-stopping moment, I think he’s dead. Then his mouth moves.

“Daisy,” he says, and it’s not Ezra’s voice. It’s not Ezra.

The horrible realization seeps into me. I remember the words spelled out on the Ouija board when I asked Godric what he wanted: LET ME OUT . This whole time, I assumed he was trapped in the house, but I was wrong. He was trapped in my head. And I just opened the door for him.

The monster that murdered Dorian and my parents is free, and it’s all my fault.

Fresh terror spreads ice through my body, making it hard to breathe again. “Godric,” I say. “Let him go.”

A smile spreads across his face and keeps spreading until it looks painful. It’s too wide, too toothy, entirely unsuited to Ezra’s face. “Oh? Is this your friend?” He twitches, neck jerking into an even deeper angle. “Yes. I see. I just thought about killing you, and he screamed quite loudly.”

My lower lip trembles. Ezra is still in there. I remember what it felt like to have Godric take control of me, to feel helpless behind my own eyes. “Let him go,” I say again. “It’s me you want.”

“But you locked me up.” He looks at his hands, flexing his fingers; they stay frozen in stiff, unnatural positions, like he isn’t quite sure what to do with them. “This one is more accommodating. More…pliable.”

“You can’t have him.”

“Why not? What are you so afraid of?” He grins that sickening grin at me again. “This, maybe?”

He grabs the mirror from my hands and bashes his face into it. Once, twice, leaving a smear of blood behind. I scream, lurching forward to stop him from hurting himself, from hurting Ezra. The thing in his body is laughing, fresh blood spurting from his nose. The lights flicker.

He raises a hand and an invisible force shoves me backward. I fly back, slamming into the wall, hard. Then I’m on the floor, tasting blood.

I can only lie there, ears ringing, the flickering lightbulb casting everything in a nightmarish haze. I’m frozen as Ezra’s body stands and steps over me and toward the ladder.

Free. Because of me.

When he’s gone, I struggle to my feet, breath shaky.

He’s out. I let him out. What will he do with a body like Ezra’s, power like Ezra’s?

I’m struck by the urge to run. To get as far away from here as possible before everything falls apart.

But I’m not leaving Dorian again. Before I decide anything else, I have to go get my own monster. Yet I have an uneasy feeling that Godric may be headed to the same place.

* * *

I lean over the wheel and race through the dark streets, praying it’s not too late. Luckily, the roads are empty at this time of night. Ash Valley is dark and quiet except for the sole building still lit up on the edge of town. The Melsbach Research Facility.

When something slams into my windshield, I scream and slam on the brakes. The car screeches to a stop. My headlights pierce the darkness of an empty road. It happened too quickly for me to see what hit me, but judging by the smear of blood and feathers it left behind, I have a suspicion.

Then a second magpie dives out of the night and smashes into my windshield. I scream again, instinctively covering my face. A third is soon behind, this one hitting my driver’s side window. I stay still, hands clasped to my ears and eyes shut, until I’m sure that nothing more is coming. Then I silently recite the rhyme in my head, and my stomach drops.

One for sorrow,

Two for joy,

Three for a girl,

Four for a boy,

Five for silver,

Six for gold,

Seven for a secret never to be told.

Eleven for health.

Twelve for wealth.

Thirteen, beware!

“ It’s the devil himself ,” I whisper, and raise my shaking hands to grip the wheel.

“Spirits can warp over time, become something that most of us would call a demon,” Ezra once said.

“I can send him down to the pits of hell, a new plaything for my master,” Godric told me.

He was always a monster, but now he’s something worse.

I consider driving home or out into the desert, leaving Ash Valley behind forever. But then I think of Dorian sitting in that cell, waiting for me. Trying to push me away to protect me. Willing to fade from existence if it meant I was safe.

I can’t leave him. Not this time. No matter the risk. I wipe my eyes, steel myself, and press on the gas, racing toward the MRF and the monster that killed my parents.