35. Milo
Milo
Ican’t catch my breath as I run harder, pushing myself to my limit.
Narrowly avoiding hitting several of the trees, I dodge the trunks and leap over the exposed roots.
The pads of my paws push into the wet rotting leaves of the forest floor, and I use my claws in an attempt to keep some traction as I run one way and then another, trying to outrun them.
“It is time, Milo.”
Noooo. It can’t be, this can’t be it.
My heart beats fast and irregular in my chest, skipping a beat each time I see one of their silhouettes amongst the trees.
“You can’t run from us.”
In a blink, and against my will, I find myself back in my human form. I try to shift again, my cat already feeling like the half of myself I’ve been missing my whole life. But it doesn’t come. I’m stuck on two feet and running at a much slower pace.
I scream for Tacita and Wyatt in my mind, unable to use my voice. They won’t hear me of course but I do it anyway. I need them, I don’t want to leave them.
“Running won’t make any difference.”
Fuck off, I want to yell.
Stumbling through the dark forest for what feels like forever, I eventually come to a path. It’s covered in blood and five bodies lie unmoving, each with deep wounds to their necks.
I stop running, my lungs about to explode from the exertion. My eyes dart around, looking for her. She should be here. She saved me in this very spot last time.
“Come Milo, it is time to fulfil your bargain.”
No. No, no, no.
It wasn’t a bargain. I was forced; my hand dealt to me without my consent. The clearing begins to shift, the trees begin to burn, and ash rains down on a wind that smells of acrid flesh.
The bodies on the floor begin to char with flames I can’t see. Can’t see but can feel the heat of, as the temperature rises quickly. The forest floor turns to hardwood, littered with fallen ceilings and debris. The screeching sound of sirens forces me to cover my ears as they pierce my skull.
“Accept your fate and it’ll stop.” The voice comes from inside my head, it sends a stabbing pain from one side to the other, making me dizzy and dropping my stomach to the floor.
The rest of me follows as I go to my knees. I push my palms into my eyes, trying to make the pain stop.
No. I scream internally again. It only angers the voice.
I feel them pushing into my head. I fight back, pushing up a wall I know is futile.
“What the fuck have they done to him?” one of them asks. I don’t know any of their names, who they are beyond what they are.
My panther finally breaks through again and unleashes its claws.
The smoke and burning flesh invades my lungs more vividly as I fall forward onto my hands and knees.
I see flashes of her, but I refuse to use her name now. I need to protect her. I see a dragon in the skies, golden scales glinting in the sun.
“Show us something useful,” the deepest of the voices snarls.
Pulling at my hair, I try desperately to hide them. Hide the secrets.
“You’ll break him,” one of the softer voices warns.
“He owes us his dues,” the deep one pushes harder.
I see Hades and Khaos, standing on a stage. I see Cameron pinned on the crucifix.
The image slips away, slips to her again.
NO!
I manage to shut the visuals down and send my mind to an empty, black slate.
“He’s stronger than we thought.”
“Push again.”
“Show us!”
The voices demand and demand, my skin now burning in the fire. The noise of the crackling is too much. My throat is blistering from the heat of the flames.
I look up at the Death Bringer, purring as I rub against her thighs. I can’t see her face, but I know she’s smiling kindly down at me.
“Yes,” the deep voice sounds pleased. “Show us more.”
A flash of a bed, a mix of limbs. A slideshow of various lectures and teaching staff.
“Keep going.”
A sudden jolt of my body, sucker punching me and shaking my brain inside my skull.
“Milo.” A familiar deep voice cuts over everything.
“Not yet. Show us more,” one of the voices growls.
“Sweetheart, wake up.” His voice calls to me and I make the herculean effort to lift my head to find in what direction he’s calling to me from.
“He’s too strong now,” one of the Angels says.
“He’s given us enough,” the deep one says to my horror.
“But we don’t know h–”
“We know enough to know that she’s there.”
“Milo? Come on Sweetheart, wake up. You’re having a nightmare.” The voice pulls me away.
“You’re okay, Milo. We’ve got you.” Her voice sends my heart into freefall.
“See you soon, Milo.” Laughter echoes through my mind as I jolt awake.
I’m in bed with Wyatt and Tacita, both of them are leaning over me, matching looks of concern on their faces. Sweat pours down my chest and my temples and I shove backwards from them, hitting the head of the bed and panting hard to catch my breath.
I failed. I couldn’t keep them out.
The Angels got whatever information they wanted.
I wasn’t strong enough.
Staring between the two people I love more than I ever thought it possible to love, a sob breaks out of my body, quickly followed by another.
Tacita and Wyatt try to comfort me but I’m beyond help now.
My heart breaks in my chest as I feel their hands on me, as they support me on each side.
I just wanted to be loved. I just wanted to love them. I just wanted a family.
And now I’ve put them in danger.
I thought I could shut the Angels out. As soon as Tacita turned up and treated me like I wasn’t broken, I tried to break the connection they have to my head. I’ve been mostly succeeding these last couple of weeks.
I thought I was strong enough. But now I can see that I’m not.
I’ve betrayed them both.
I tried.
I tried, and I failed.
Wyatt’s lips on my temple shatters my soul as I muster the strength to reveal the depth of my deception.
“The Angels are coming,” I choke out.