Chapter 68 Noelle
NOELLE
“Well, well, lesh get shtarted on the real fun, shall we?” Thune slurred as Noelle stepped up onto the massive mattress where Burn and Bright were already waiting—tense and coiled like predators about to spring.
Her heart thudded in her chest.
Dios, he’s slurring—it’s happening. He’s fading, isn’t he? Please—please let it be soon enough.
“Get your clothesh off, girly—time for all the…all the piggy-wigsh to play together,” the middle head announced. The words sloshed out of his mouth as clumsily as the wine sloshed from the tumbler in his thick fingers.
The middle head’s brow furrowed.
“I mean…” Thune blinked slowly, swaying where he stood. “All the piggywigs,” he corrected carefully, each syllable wobbling. “Why am I sho…dizzshy?”
Noelle froze mid-motion, fingers clutching the hem of her dress.
Her eyes flew to Burn and then to Bright. Both warriors were stone-still, their big bodies taut with readiness. Burn’s eyes glowed fiery red and Bright’s jaw was clenched so hard she saw a muscle jump.
“Whash wrong with me?” Thune muttered thickly.
He staggered backwards, his huge bulk making the stone floor tremble under Noelle’s bare feet.
Then the massive Trollox collapsed onto the couch with a sickening whump, the halfempty tumbler of wine sloshing out of his hand.
Dark liquid splattered across his filthy white shirt, blooming into a stain like dried blood.
The left head snored instantly—loud, rattling, and grotesque.
The middle head listed to the side, eyelids drooping heavily.
But the right head…the right head hadn’t moved. It still drooled, its vacant yellow eyes wandering lazily.
Please go down. Please just go down…Noelle thought, her hands clenched into fists of tension.
“Now,” Burn growled, his voice low and dangerous, vibrating with pent-up violence. “It’s time to get that fucking key.”
He swung off the mattress in one fluid motion, already dragging his trousers back on.
“Burn—wait until he’s all the way out,” Bright warned sharply.
But Burn wasn’t listening. He was locked on Thune like a heat-seeking missile.
Noelle’s pulse roared in her ears as Burn crossed the room in three long strides. The Trollox sprawled limp and heavy on the couch, looked almost harmless—with the three heads in various states of drooling, snoring, or drunken blinking—but she knew better.
They all did.
Burn reached into Thune’s pocket. His big hand slid down into the filthy fabric, groping for the long silver biometric key.
Noelle’s breath caught in her throat.
Come on. Come on—just a little further—
Thune’s middle head stared glassily into space, too drugged to react.
Burn’s fingers closed around the key. And then—
Suddenly, the right head snapped into perfect clarity.
Its pupils shrank and its drooling mouth pulled back in a snarl. And in a harsh, hissing squeal that made Noelle’s blood run ice-cold, it shrieked:
“THIEF!”
The sound was so sharp it felt like a blade cutting through the room.
Its eyes—two luminous, deranged points of yellow—focused directly on Burn.
“Thief…Liar!” it screamed, and the huge right arm came to life, swinging upward in a violent, spasmodic lunge.
“Burn!” Noelle cried, panic tightening her throat.
But the Dark Twin was faster that the drunken Trollox—much faster.
He ducked under the snatching hand, twisting away even as he ripped the long silver key from Thune’s pocket.
And then, before Noelle could blink, Burn drove the key straight into the right head’s right eye.
There was a sound like a wet pop and a spray of milky fluid burst outward.
The right head shrieked—a high, keening roar of pure agony.
The entire right side of Thune’s enormous body spasmed violently, arm flailing, leg kicking, the couch groaning under the sudden thrashing weight.
“That’s for what you made us do to each other, you sick fucker!” Burn bellowed, yanking the key back out in a spray of gore.
He raised it again, Rage flooding his features, the red burning brighter in his eyes.
“No!” Bright shouted, lunging toward him. “Burn—we don’t know how long the medication will last! We have to get out of here, now!”
“Burn—please!” Noelle begged from across the room, her heart in her throat. “I just want to go home!”
Burn froze.
For one stretched-out second, it was unclear which voice reached him—Bright’s logic or Noelle’s fear. His massive chest heaved and his knuckles whitened around the blood-slick key.
Then the Rage flickering in his gaze dimmed by a fraction and he lowered the key.
Bright grabbed his arm and dragged him back from the still-thrashing Trollox.
“Come on!” he hissed. “We have to go.”
Noelle scrambled off the mattress, dress still half-on, half-off. Bright snatched up their scattered clothes, stuffing everything into his arms as he sprinted toward the stairs.
Behind them, the Trollox’s right head screamed and shrieked, the wounded socket leaking thick yellowish fluid. The left head remained oblivious, snoring wetly. The middle head blinked slow, drugged blinks, looking confused and drunkenly outraged but unable to move.
The entire giant body convulsed until the couch cracked under it.
The camera drone zipped frantic circles overhead, recording every frantic heartbeat.
“Move!” Burn barked, pushing Noelle ahead of him as they raced for the stairway.
Noelle’s legs pumped, her breath burning her lungs, her heart thundering like a drumbeat of terror.
We did it. Oh God—we actually did it. But we’re not safe yet—we’re not safe yet—RUN—
The three of them burst out of the basement like hunted animals, slamming into the hallway above, the cold air of the upper floor hitting Noelle’s face like a slap.
They didn’t slow…they didn’t look back.
They ran like their lives depended on it—because they did.