Chapter 9
Myssa
Ricky helps me to a barstool, and I sit for a minute, not sure how to even explain or mention what really just happened.
Maybe Pete was right to give me time off.
Maybe this is the start of a nervous breakdown that has been slowly morphing over these past few months.
I mean, let’s be honest, who the hell would believe me if I even attempted to try to explain it?
“What happened, Myssa?” Ricky asks with concern in his eyes.
Oh, you know, just mysteriously slipped through some Matrix hole to another fucking universe.
Met some little girl and made my way back here.
By the way, have I told you my sister is being held hostage by some lunatic?
Although I haven’t really seen him, just hear his voice in my head like nails on a chalkboard.
Please feel free to point me in the direction of the nearest asylum and shove me in.
At this point, maybe it will be a welcome reprieve.
Realizing I haven’t answered Ricky, and not to cause any more concern, I clear my throat.
“Just got a little dizzy. I didn’t really eat anything today.” I hate lying, but what else can I say?
No one would believe me if I told them—fuck, I don’t even believe me—and yet, here I am trying to wrap my head around what’s going on.
Vix finishes up with a customer and makes her way to where Ricky and I sit. Handing me a bottle of water, she, too, looks concerned. She must have seen what happened.
“Babe, you good?” she asks.
“Yeah.” My hands shake as I try to twist the cap.
She eyes me for a minute.
“Bullshit.” Her stern gaze poses questions I’m not ready to answer. I love that about her. Her loyalty and protectiveness over the ones she loves is fierce.
Tired of seeing me struggle, she takes the water bottle from me, twists the cap and hands it back.
“Thank you, I’ll be ok,” I say, taking a sip of water and feeling the color come back into my cheeks.
Laying my head in my folded hands on the bar, I feel Ricky gently rubbing the upper part of my back in a soothing motion.
I tilt my head to the side, and my eyes meet his.
I attempt to give him a reassuring grin that I’m ok.
It’s funny how much grief steals from you.
It drains the very essence of who you are if you let it.
We forget so easily that the love from our friend’s is the very strength we need to help mend the pieces that are left scattered on the floor.
“Maybe a little too much for my first night back out in a few months,” I say with a chuckle.
“Cmon, Myssa, I’ll take you home,” he says, putting his arm around me.
Still shaken up by what the little girl said, and not wanting to argue, I nod in agreement and start to get up as I get Vix’s attention.
“Ricky’s going to drive me home. My car is parked two blocks away. Do you still have my extra key?” I ask.
“Yeah,” she said, “don’t worry about it. Knox and I will ask Z if we can park it in the back, and we can come back in the morning for it.”
“Thanks, luv.”
“Tell Knox I said goodnight.” Giving her a small wave, I take a step in the direction of the elevator.
“Sure thing, babe, feel better, and I’ll call you in the morning.” Vix gives me a small salute and heads back to a customer that’s trying to get her attention.
Ricky and I take the elevator down to the first floor and make our way into the lobby. As we walk outside, an odd sensation ripples through me. Like something has been awoken within me. Still a little weak, I sit on a bench in front of the club as Ricky runs to go get his car.
Unable to shake this new level of uneasiness, I stand up and pace a little. I lean up against the wall, closing my eyes just for a moment. I need to get my shit together. Nothing feels the same anymore, and I can’t put my finger on it.
After a few minutes, the hairs on my neck stand up, and that feeling I’m being watched is prominent. Opening my eyes, I try not to make it obvious as I look around slowly. Just when I feel like it’s all in my head, I see a silhouette lurking on the side of the building.
I’m not sure where the courage comes from, but my patience is running thin, and I’m not a fan of being stalked, especially by someone hiding in the dark.
I start to walk in the direction of where I saw the person watching me, but a familiar energy hits me.
The same feeling I’d had when seeing the man in the elevator.
Just then, I hear honking. Stopping, I turn around to see Ricky pull up. When I look back in the direction of my admirer, they’re gone. Reluctantly, I turn back and move in the direction of Ricky’s car.
Rolling down the window, Ricky asks, “You good?”
“Yeah, thought I saw…” but I pause, not wanting to have to explain. I shake my head. “Never mind.”
Once back in my apartment, after thanking Ricky for dropping me home, I turn on each light I pass, in the shadows of the dark, Lily’s face seems to haunt me.
How would I even explain what is happening to me?
I don’t think even Vix would believe me.
I mean nightmares, sure, everyone has nightmares.
But this was so real, I swear I could reach out and touch her.
One minute I was on the dance floor, and the next, it was like some horror movie was playing out in my head.
The questions playing on repeat in my mind continue to frustrate me.
After putting my phone on the charger, I scroll through Spotify, and set my playlist to play at random.
A shiver runs down my spine, and the coolness of the air in my room reminds me my clothes are still soaked with sweat from the club.
After tossing them in to the hamper, I pull a pair of sweats and a tank top out of my dresser and lay them on the bed.
Walking into the bathroom, I flip the light switch, only for the bulb to start to flicker.
“Fucking great,” I grumble.
Stepping into the warm shower, I close my eyes and let the water wash away my thoughts of the night, trying to relax my body through the heat that scorches my skin.
Once I’ve finished, and I’m drying my hair, I hear “I put a spell on you” from Marilyn Manson from my Bluetooth speaker. Standing in front of the mirror, I start to get lost in my thoughts while staring at myself. So many unanswered questions run through my head.
Is this for real?
Am I having a nervous breakdown?
Is this all a nightmare I can’t wake up from?
I can feel myself starting to spiral out of control, as the bass of drums beat in tune with my heart, and my breaths becoming shallower.
Grasping on to the sink to hold myself steady, I can feel the sweat beading on my forehead. My knees weaken, and my eyes never falter from my reflection in the mirror, as if my own gaze has me hypnotized.
That instant draw I’d felt at the club was pushing me back through again.
I can’t speak. Oh god, not again. I grip harder as if grounding myself to the counter will help, but as the tempo increases and the screams of the music become more intense, I feel myself shifting again.
For a brief second, I see my eyes shine with a silver sheen, and my bathroom is no longer my own.
I turn and take a step towards the room in front of me.
The walls look worn and battered with holes and peeled-off paint.
Broken glass shards from the windows are scattered across the floor.
Holes in the ceiling so large you can see the night sky with its blood-red moon.
The bed in front of me is slashed and torn, and its springs and padding are on display.
Tasting what I can only describe as death in the air leaves me uncomfortable as I realize something.
This is my room.
“What the actual fuck?” I whisper, taking in my surroundings.
Just then, I hear it, the snickering behind me, sends shivers down my spine. I don’t dare look. I barely breathe. This is different than the nightmares—this almost seems real.
“Now, what do we have here, a lost little soul?” he says behind me. A sneer in his voice.
Oh god, I know that voice.
“No,” I say, barely above a whisper in disbelief.
He continues, as if he didn’t to me.
“And here I was thinking you’d need the help of Jonathan to get here, but look at you, making your way to Aetheriem all by yourself. Aren't you full of surprises?”
“Jasper.” I say already knowing the answer.
“In the…flesh”, he says sarcastically.
“Where am I? Where is my sister?” I demand, too frightened to turn around to look at him.
“Now, now, all in good time.”
“Tell me, do you like games, Myssa?” he asks, amused.
“Not your fucking games, Jasper.” My annoyance starts getting the better of me.
Clearly not liking my response, Jasper quickly closes the gap between us, his presence so close to me that my breath hitches.
This isn’t real, this isn’t real, this isn’t real, the chant in a loop in my head.
Clicking his tongue, he says, “Now, Myssa, where is all this hostility coming from? A simple yes or no would suffice.”
“Why are you doing this?” I snap.
“Why are you doing this?” he repeats, mocking me.
Feeling paralyzed between the fear that this is real and frustration at the altercation, I fixate on a spot on the wall. I don’t dare say a word, as he continues to ask the question repeatedly, pacing back and forth behind me.
His movements become more erratic as he rants, and I’m not even sure he means for me to hear what he’s saying, so I focus on trying to figure out how to get out of here.
“I gave them EVERYTHING, you see, I was perfectly fine with my existence. I was here for THEM. I KNEW my place. But then one day, in one fucking day, it changed. She was…” he hesitates.
Confused by his confession, I’m at a loss as to where this is going. Not daring to interrupt, I stand silently as he continues.
“She came in like a siren, and I was mesmerized. Her warmth, her beauty, her laugh, her love. She was the air I breathed, the beat of my heart—she was life. The soul I questioned existing within me intertwined with hers, and a fragment I never knew was missing became whole. And we were happy, so very happy. I should have known.” His voice breaks for a moment before turning viciously into a malicious chuckle.
“Happiness for a brief moment, just to get snuffed out in the night. And for what? Their amusement? To see if they could break ME? But they didn't, did they?”
The rage in his tone increases with every unhinged admission. My pulse becomes more erratic as I shift, desperately trying to stifle the tremor in my hand to avoid his attention while he continues his rant.
“No, because I did it, I found a way, a way, to seep through the cracks in the shadows and dismantle everything they built, piece by piece and soul by soul.”
“Fires will blaze until ashes fall from the sky of every afterlife. Chaos will reign upon helpless souls with nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Destruction is the only peace worth pursuing.”
He stops pacing, and I can sense him looking back at me.
“How does this have anything to do with me or my sister?” I ask, trying to make sense of his ramblings.
He mocks me, and it’s almost as if I can actually feel him up against my back. But I know that can’t be—he has always just been in my dreams, but this feels so…real.
“Oh poor, poor little soul, you are merely collateral damage, a message to be sent, bait if you will,” he seethes.
“Fuck you, Jasper, you can’t touch me. This is a dream, remember?”
“Oooh, but how wrong you are,” he snickers.
With that confession, my desperation to end this nightmare grows stronger. It's just an empty threat, right? My assumption slowly crumbles as I feel his presence closer behind me, and the whisper of his cold breath next to my ear sends a jolt of uneasiness throughout my body.
“See, you’re in my realm now,” he snarls.
Suddenly, a rush of pain surges through me as Jasper drags his skeleton-like fingertip roughly along my flesh, leaving a trail of blood in its wake.
I swallow my scream through gritted teeth, trying desperately to block out his torture.
“Where is my sister, Jasper?” I ask sharply. I cannot pretend to claim that this isn’t real anymore. He’s real, which means he has my sister’s soul, so there’s no more denying it. But he ignores me and continues with a maniacal laugh.
“You have fight…you remind me of her,” he says, holding my wrists, and his whispered admission against my skin instantly causes the bile in my stomach to make its way into my throat.
“Let tonight be a reminder,” he says, letting go of me.
“Time for you to go home now, Myssa, until we meet again…” His voice trails off.
And just like that, I’m thrown back into the reality of my bathroom, blood still trickling down my arm, sending droplets to the floor. Instantly, nausea takes over, and after turning to the toilet, I drop to my knees, emptying the contents of my stomach.
Too weak to stand, I lay there, pressing my heated face against the cold tiles of the bathroom floor, and I let the darkness take over.