Chapter Twenty-Six
Yun
Something about extracting myself from the group, about cleaning the cum they’d left on me, inside me, was so much worse than anything else.
A vision of Shear’s face when he’d realized what I’d done hit me again. No, that was far worse. His expression had held confusion, betrayal, fear—all things I never wanted him to look at me with.
Thankfully, only he’d been sensitive enough to tell in the moments before I’d incapacitated them all, pulling so much corruption from them quickly enough to knock them out. It wouldn’t last that long, but it didn’t need to.
Hell, maybe they’d wake in an hour and blame me so much that they’d head for the portal on their own. I didn’t want them hating me, didn’t want to tarnish the memories that meant so much to me, but I’d carry that burden if it meant protecting them.
I wouldn’t turn into Corsa, someone who would destroy those I loved for my own selfish wants.
After I’d cleaned up and dressed, I left the house, knowing exactly what I would find outside even before I went.
The dungeon was hardly a safe place for a guide to wander around in, not with the portal open. Two monsters waited just outside, those vacant eyes telling me who actually controlled them.
Corsa wouldn’t want to risk me getting hurt or dying on my way to him, so he’d sent me an escort.
I might have considered that sweet if I didn’t know better.
He didn’t give a damn about me, at least not any more than he did any battery.
I was a means to an end, a way to help his madness, but he didn’t actually care about me as a person.
I wondered if he wouldn’t have been happier if I were brain-dead somehow, just a body for him to use as he pleased.
It reminded me of all the ways the men had proven themselves different, the sweetness in their movements, the way they’d put me first no matter what.
One of the monsters bumped against my side with a gruff noise, as though scolding me for having drifted slightly off course.
Then again, I had no idea where we were headed exactly, what the path was, so I remained between the two guards.
Their heads reached my shoulders, even as they stood on all fours.
They could have torn me apart between one breath and the next while never breaking stride.
Yet I refused to fear them.
They were mindless beasts—nothing more. I’d learned what real monsters were over the years, had learned what a person should truly fear. These things could kill my body, sure, but there were worse things out there could take so much more from me.
The monster to my left let out a growl that made it harder to stick with the whole, ‘won’t be afraid of them,’ plan.
I realized he had more purple than the other, and this close, I was able to tell them apart.
This one—I named him Spot—had larger fangs than the other—I went with Pear for him—but was a tad bit smaller overall.
Also, Spot tended to growl more than the other, but bumped me less often.
I worried for my sanity a bit when I realized I thought about the two as though they were domesticated pets of mine, like they had their own personalities I had to work around.
Clearly, I’d been in The Pitt far too long. It was as though Corsa and this place had broken me already, and they hadn’t had to do that much this time around.
Spot growled again, more anger in his tone, his head lowering like a dog that had caught sight of something. Bushes shook before us just before someone walked through them.
An esper?
No. I’d guessed wrong, it wasn’t an esper but a corrupted. It was in the dazed look in her eyes, the way she stumbled slightly, as if the entire world had changed around her and she hadn’t yet adjusted.
I had no idea what kind of esper she was, who she’d been before—nothing but the uniform she wore.
If she was here, she had to be an S-Rank? Maybe an A, if she’d started as someone to guard the portal?
A twig snapped beneath my foot, and her gaze lifted, locking in on me in a way that made me gulp hard.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice twisted with something dark. She didn’t seem to even notice the monsters beside me, who both had their teeth bared.
Strange that I wasn’t sure which I was more afraid of—her or them.
She took a step forward, then paused, gaze narrowing. “You’re a guide, right? I can feel it, so much more than I ever did before. Fuck, this is amazing. It’s like you surrender, you give in, and everything gets so much better.”
“You just need help.” There was no help for her—I knew that better than most. She was too far gone, having toppled over that edge, having given herself to the madness that the corruption whispered to her.
She was Corsa. She was the madman from the hotel. She was one of a million other espers who had crossed that line, forced to accept their fate.
There was nothing left for them but death—either others or their own. It couldn’t go another way.
Of course, if she ended up killing me, that solved a few things, right?
Except the idea didn’t last long before Pear leaped forward, lunging, teeth bared, claws out. It might have been sweet if I didn’t know that the thing only protected me because of Corsa.
The woman reacted easily, swinging her fist, not even bothering to avoid the beast. She struck it in the face, knocking the huge creature to the side.
It hit the ground, whimpering, but trying to pull itself back toward her, toward me.
Any normal creature would have given in after that damage, at least given itself a minute to check for injuries, but Corsa’s poison must have run deep inside it.
Even with a jaw clearly dislocated, even with joints damaged from striking the ground, it dragged the useless limbs behind it, through the soil and ash.
The woman laughed, a cruel glint in her eyes as though she enjoyed that thing’s pain.
No matter how much I hated monsters and dungeons and even corrupted, I’d never found pleasure in their suffering. I’d never wanted to see them writhe and twist, never wanted them to endure anything more than needed. Maybe that created the difference between us?
I held onto that, onto the idea that I was different from Corsa, because I didn’t want to see the torment of even things I hated.
She took another step forward, and Spot curled around me, placing himself between the woman and me, as though he didn’t care to repeat the mistake the other had made.
She paused, taking in the sight. “This is strange. How is it that you have beasts at your feet like pets? That’s the first time I’ve seen that.
Are they saving you for a snack? Going to tear you apart limb by limb?
Will they enjoy turning you inside out and they don’t want anyone else to have a piece?
” She clicked her tongue like she was scolding a child. “That’s selfish, you know that?”
I took a step backward, wanting more distance between us. I wasn’t sure I could even defend myself, not after how much effort it had taken to drain all four espers against their will. Could I even hurt this one if she grabbed me? If she…
The thought of her forcing guiding had me shuddering, had my thoughts racing. I wanted to say that wouldn’t happen again, that it wasn’t possible, but I knew better than to trust in such absolutes. I never would have thought it could happen the first time, but look at where I’d ended up.
Spot’s tail twitched, back and forth, like a tiger looking for the right moment to pounce. The strength she’d showed told me she was likely a combat esper, which made this all the more difficult. I couldn’t outrun her, couldn’t hope to do much of anything.
I couldn’t even try to run back to Carter and the others, because if they were still unconscious—which I had to assume they were—I’d only bring danger to them.
My legs trembled, but I tightened my hands into fists and forced myself to stay upright, to continue to step backward as Spot remained there, between us.
When she approached Spot, her gaze barely strayed from me, as though the hulking, growling monster meant nothing to her.
When it lunged, she caught it by the throat and threw it beyond the treeline.
Things crashed outside of my line of sight, but after the initial chaos, there was nothing to suggest Spot moved again.
What the hell? Am I actually sorry about a monster?
Except I was. Maybe it was all selfishness, a desire to have something on my side, even if it was a beast, or maybe I felt a strange connection to a beast who’d fought for me, one who was being controlled by Corsa, much like I was.
I backed into a tree, sliding around it, trying to keep a few feet between the woman and myself. She didn’t stop, didn’t slow, didn’t speed, as though she were inevitable.
“When I felt that snap, I really thought I was done for. I had so much panic for a moment there, this pain between my temples, but you know what I realized? All that was, was my resistance. I was pulling away, and that caused the pain. When I gave in, it all stopped. I’m still me, just better.
Freer.” She tilted her head. “You could be free, too.”
“Thanks, but I’m good,” I assured her, wishing my voice came out stronger.
“You say that because you don’t know any better, like a kid who doesn’t want to take their medicine. It isn’t the real you, because you’ve never met the real you.”
I blinked, and in the sliver of time it took to close my eyes, then open them again, she’d moved from a few feet away to just before me. I yanked backward out of instinct, but she caught me with a hand around my arm, her grip too tight.
She shuddered, her lips shifting into a wider grin. “Oh, you are a special one, aren’t you? Is this how it always is once an esper lets go? Does guiding always feel this good?”
The sensation of her corruption rushing into me made me sick, made my stomach rebel and threaten to rid itself of the soup Carter had cooked earlier. Corsa was one thing—it was horrible, but it was familiar. This was different, a new horror, a sinking feeling that made it all worse.
It made me feel filthy, like something that had been used too many times and would never be clean again.
I pulled with all my strength, but it did nothing against her superior grip, my feet sliding against the soil.
I reached with my free arm for something—anything.
My fingers wrapped around the tree beside me, grasping a branch only as thick as a dry-erase marker.
It broke away beneath my frantic motions, since all the wood in dungeons tended to be brittle.
I thought about Carter, about Ingram and Shear, who all would have told me to fight like hell, to do whatever I could, that survival now meant more than anything else.
My body moved on its own. I didn’t swing the branch like a bat—a corrupted would hardly notice, assuming I made contact at all.
Instead, I held it like a dagger and aimed for her throat, hoping the distraction would give me the precious moments I needed.
The sharp end, the one I’d broken off from the trunk, struck her in the jugular. It didn’t hit and rebound, though, and instead the way the flesh gave beneath the pointed edge, the way it pressed in deep, the gurgling sound she made, all of it was almost worse than her touch.
Almost.
She released me only long enough to reach up and yank the branch out of her. Blood sprayed from the wound, painting the ground in a mixture of red and purple—another sign of her corrupted status.
I didn’t wait for her to recover, turning and running. The softness of the ground kept my feet from getting a good grip, but that didn’t stop me. Even when I stumbled, I caught myself on a tree and used it to propel me further forward.
A laugh broke out behind me, high-pitched and maddened and somehow even worse than before. It was as though the wound had broken any grasp she had on the world.
Something struck me from behind, knocking me forward, and I couldn’t roll or rise before a weight settled over me, keeping me down, trapping me there. Wetness dripped down on me, and a glance to the side showed my hand covered in a mixture of red and purple blood.
“You’re mine,” she whispered. “Took this long but I found my one, perfect guide. All mine.” She laughed as she spoke, a hysterical cackling that broke through all the words.
I tried to use my powers, but I couldn’t. They didn’t work, only giving me the smallest of bursts, one she didn’t even seem to feel. It had to have been because I’d used to much power earlier to knock the men out.
I refused to accept this, though. Years ago I would have, but now? It felt like I had all the men in my head, screaming at me to get up, to keep fighting, not to dare let go. Even if I’d left them for their own good, I knew they’d tell me to keep going, to look for an opportunity, to just live.
Nothing I did changed it, and when a hand wrapped around the nape of my neck, I sent up a silent apology for…well…more than I could possibly put into words.
No pain consumed me, though. Instead, one moment she was there and the next? Gone. Like she’d dissolved into air.
I opened my eyes to find a pair of dark boots in the soil before me.
Carter?
My heart beat wildly as I forced myself to look up, past the pants, past the shirt, to the face of the person who had saved me, the one standing over me like that.
And the moment I saw his face, everything crumbled.
“Welcome home,” Corsa said.