Chapter 38 #2
I felt it then, a strange pressure against my consciousness. He was attempting to feed on my fear, to amplify it and twist it until my mind shattered. I’d seen what Dread could do to people, how he could reduce even the strongest heroes to whimpering, broken shells with just his presence.
But nothing happened to me. The pressure remained external, unable to penetrate whatever barrier my broken ability had created.
“You can’t have it,” I whispered. “My fear isn’t yours to take.”
Rage flashed across his face, his red eyes flaring brighter. “That’s exactly the problem with Wardens. You deny us what is rightfully ours.”
He tried again, harder this time, a psychic battering ram against my mental walls. But they held firm. I couldn’t stop him from using his powers entirely, not without direct skin contact, but at least he couldn’t use them against me.
“Where are you taking me?” I gasped, struggling to speak against the rushing air as he moved faster.
Dread didn’t answer, his attention focused on navigating through the city at terrifying speed. We were heading away from downtown, across the bay, toward—
My stomach dropped as I recognized our trajectory. The complex looming ahead was unmistakable even in darkness: the Crucible. A sprawling mock city built on an artificial island in the bay, designed to simulate urban combat conditions for training Supers.
Dread’s grip tightened painfully as we descended. Without warning, he released me about six feet from the ground. I crashed onto the grassy area that surrounded the facility, pain shooting through my shoulder and hip as I rolled to a stop.
Dread landed beside me and pulled something from his pocket. He tapped it several times, his red eyes reflecting the blue light.
The Hammer. I’d only seen the picture once, but I knew the device.
A low hum that I hadn’t even noticed suddenly ceased. The barely visible shimmer of the protective barrier surrounding the facility flickered and disappeared.
I scrambled backward, ignoring the pain shooting through my shoulder. My fingers scraped against the dirt as I tried to put distance between us. It was futile, I knew that, but instinct drove me to try, anyway.
Dread watched my pathetic attempt at escape with something like amusement before casually stepping forward and grabbing my arm. He lifted me off the ground and launched us both into the air again.
We soared over the perimeter wall and into the mock city itself, a perfect miniature replica of downtown Chroma Bay, complete with scaled-down skyscrapers, alleyways, and town squares. All designed for combat training.
Dread flew to what would be the central plaza in the real Chroma Bay and dropped me unceremoniously. I hit the ground, rolling several times before coming to a stop against a decorative planter. Pain lanced through my ankle and ribs, and I tasted blood where I’d bitten my cheek.
He landed a few yards away, his red eyes glowing in the darkness as he stalked toward me.
I struggled to my feet, every muscle screaming in protest. How had he found me? How long had he known? We’d been hidden for twenty years, our identities protected by layers of secrecy and misdirection.
“How?” I managed, spitting blood onto the concrete. “How did you find out what I was? That information isn’t exactly in the public domain.”
Dread’s lips curved into that terrible smile again, his red eyes gleaming with delight. “The same place I got the identity of the other Warden,” he said, circling me slowly. “Did you think you were special? That you’d somehow escape notice when the others couldn’t?”
I backed away, keeping him in my line of sight. “That’s not an answer. Those records were destroyed years ago.”
“Not destroyed,” Dread corrected. “Just hidden. Hidden well, I’ll admit. It took considerable resources to find them. Resources I didn’t personally have, but it helps to have the right allies.”
“Why tell me any of this?” I asked, wincing as I shifted my weight. “Why not kill me and be done with it? Not that I’m complaining about the delay, but Villains usually save the monologuing for the cameras.”
Dread’s smile widened, revealing teeth that seemed unnaturally white against the darkness surrounding us. The shadows at his feet pulsed in a hypnotic rhythm.
He inhaled sharply, the sound rattling in his chest. “I can taste it. Tart. Sharp.” He stepped closer, the shadows lapping at my ankles like cold tongues.
“Information feeds the panic. It makes the fear ripen. I’m not in any hurry to kill you, Warden.
Why rush what should be savored? I want to draw this out.
Do something no one else has managed to do. ”
“Which is?” I asked, hating how my voice trembled.
He reached out, his gloved hand hovering inches from my face, close enough that the cold emanating from him brushed against my skin. “Break your abilities,” he said softly. “Crack that shell of resistance until I can feast on every drop of terror your mind can produce.”
“It won’t work,” I said. “You can’t break a Warden.”
Dread only continued to smile. “You know what I find truly amusing?” he said, his voice almost conversational. “The irony of your situation.”
I kept my eyes on him, trying to gauge his next move, trying not to show the fear I knew he was searching for.
“The one who saved you is the one who ultimately killed you.” He chuckled “There’s a certain poetry to that, don’t you think?”
I furrowed my brow. “What are you talking about?”
“Cipher. He prevented you from slamming into the pavement when you fell off that building during my match,” Dread said, shaking his head.
“Looking back, he could have eliminated you without lifting a finger if he’d just let you fall.
And now he had to do all that work to get at the files,” Dread continued, “just to give me your name. Annie Bishop.” He savored each syllable. “The last Warden.”
The world tilted. My fingernails dug into my palms, the sharp pain the only thing keeping me upright.
“Cipher gave you my name?” I repeated.
The red glow of his eyes flared, illuminating the cruel curve of his mouth. “Yes.”
“When?” I couldn’t help the way my voice broke. “When did he tell you?”
Dread stepped closer. “An hour ago.”
An hour.
My knees hit the concrete. I didn’t feel the impact. I didn’t feel the scrape of the rough ground against my palms as I caught myself.
An hour ago.
Right after I’d ended things.
Right after he’d left me. He’d handed me over, knowing I was going to die.
A sob broke loose and it echoed off the empty buildings of the mock city.
Dread made a satisfied noise, a low hum in his throat. “There it is,” he murmured. “Betrayal. It has a distinct aftertaste. Bitter. Earthy.”
I stared at the pavement, my vision blurring. He had handed me over. He knew what Dread was. He knew what Dread did to people. And he gave him my name anyway.
“Tell me,” Dread whispered, his voice right at my ear now. “Does it hurt more than the fear?”
I closed my eyes. I had given my heart to a monster. And now the monster was done with me.
The shadows coiled around my waist. I didn’t fight them.
There was nowhere left to run. And no one coming to save me.