Julian #3
Cassie pouts, her small hand rubbing my arm. “I’m sorry, Julie. Call me, okay? We can meet up next weekend, yeah?”
“She’s in the living room,” Cameron adds, nodding his head to the right. But he won’t look directly at me anymore, his expression borderline guilty.
I have no time to dwell on their words or their actions. I am already reeling from my own secrets.
I say my goodbyes to the two of them and find my way into the living room, where Susie is making out with Kimberly against the far wall.
Good for her. Too bad I have to interrupt.
“Hey,” I shout, tapping her arm.
Susie turns toward me, her eyes widening upon seeing my face.
“Shit,” she murmurs. “One sec.” Leaving Kimberly against the wall, she drags me out front. “What the fuck happened?”
I sigh. “Landon happened. Well, if I’m honest, it was kind of my fault. I followed when he called, and we made out in the bathroom. But you know him; he wants more. So I stopped it before it went too far.”
She nods, understanding the situation. She’s seen it unfold many times before.
“I keep telling him to get over you. The guy is down bad,” Susie says.
“Yeah, well, it is what it is. Maybe one day we can be close again.” I run a hand through my hair, blowing out a huff of air. “Anyway, I’m out. I’m bummed. I’ll come into town in the morning, and we can spend the day together, yeah? Just… make sure he gets back safe.”
“Sure.” Susie smiles. “Love you, Julie. Text me when you get home, okay?”
I kiss her forehead, assuring her that I will. Then I begin the drive back to Chastain Castle.
It really isn’t that far of a drive; if anything, it just feels tedious. But it gives me enough time to dwell on how guilty I feel over things with Landon, and how much I wish I could have done what he did to me to Atlas, when I had him in that same position.
If I could go back in time and stop myself from sleeping with Landon, I would, if only to prevent his future heartbreak. And then maybe I’d convince my dad not to take the job at Chastain Castle, and I could meet Atlas another way, and we’d be allowed to fool around; maybe even fall in love.
I could love a guy like him. I would be happy to take care of him, adoring him. He seems like the type to want that.
I pull up to Chastain Castle, parking by the delivery door. Only, as I enter, something heavy settles on my chest. Inside, the estate feels stifling, as if every room has been filled with smoke, though I can visibly see that it has not.
It is silent as I creep toward my room. Once safely inside, I sigh, removing my slacks and button-up and sliding on a t-shirt and some sweatpants.
My room feels extremely warm, as if someone has turned the heat up. Or like Atlas is standing in here, being the human heater he is. There is no overhead fan here, so I rip my shirt back off and climb onto my bed, over the covers, after turning out the light.
It’s been a long day, and I’m ready to escape the reality of it. To escape Atlas and his buff boyfriend, to escape Landon and his obsession. Cassie, Cameron, and their… whatever that was.
My eyes flutter closed, and I do my best not to focus on the stifling heat surrounding me. Instead, I focus on the feel of my own fingertips as I trace the skin of my arms.
Maybe I should count backward from 100.
100… 99… 98…97…96…
A loud creak sounds throughout the room, and my heartbeat quickens. My fingers twitch. It’s nothing; it can be nothing.
95… 94… 93… 92… 91…
A scuff against hardwood, the slight movement of the foot of my bed dipping.
I’m so terrified I can’t breathe, and I’m not sure why I don’t just open my eyes and check my surroundings so that I can confirm that I’m just freaking myself out.
But something in the back of my mind is telling me that if I open my eyes now, I won’t recover from it.
90… 89… 88… 87… 86…
The temperature of the air around me increases further, and the smell of smoke overwhelms me. Something tickles my face as it lightly brushes over my cheeks and nose. Something that feels an awful lot like hair.
Long fingers, cool and clammy skin—a hand grips my chin roughly. I know immediately what is in this room with me. I know it is real.
87… 86… 85… 84… 83…
I take a deep breath. The fingers dig in further, the sharp nails nicking me. I could keep my eyes closed, but what would it do then? It can touch me—it wants to touch me.
Slowly, I open my eyes.
Above me, leaning over my body, is the thing I saw in Atlas’s room. Its black hair hangs loosely around its face, black voids for eyes, its large mouth forever dropped open to show its razor-sharp teeth.
I cannot move beneath its hold; I cannot breathe under the weight of this reality. Instead, I stare back at it as it cocks its head, watching me.
I have truly never known this type of terror. It is that simple; there is nothing else inside of me. I am so terrified that I am simply calm.
And then, its jaw unhinges even further, and the sound of low, howling wind and gurgling spit resonates throughout the room. I believe it might have just taken a breath.
It begins to shriek.
I know now that I am going to die.