9

I wake up in bed.

Thank god, it was just a dream.

Wait — it couldn’t be a dream, I don’t remember going home from work. I also don’t remember completely decorating my room like a little country girl who lives in a cottage by a lake and’s obsessed with fungus.

Right — I’m at Aisa’s house, she must’ve carried me back.

I’m covered by a deep red blanket, golden leaves splattered across it. I look down — I’m still in the clothes I came here with. I slowly get up, warmly welcoming the worst migraine ever.

I’ve never felt a pain so intense. My legs give out from under me. I want to staple my eye shut tightly until it’s all over. Thousands of little knives are getting thrown at my brain all at once, causing little, but agonizing pinches all over my head — then rocks are swung, over and over, bruising me and pounding my head. It’s like I can feel my brain move around in my skull. I can’t help but scream.

Aisa comes running up to the room. She puts her arm around me, shushing me like a mother would do to her child. She traces circles on my back as I curl into her, hiding from the light that enters through the windows.

“It’s okay, Cassy,” she whispers. For some reason, when she calls me that name, I don’t want to hit her. “It's okay, it’ll all be over soon.”

She lifts my head, and I stare into the eye on her chest. It feels like a wave of relief washes over me, taking every moment of pain I’ve ever pain with it. I sink deeper into Aisa’s embrace, too tired to fight back.

“There we go, Darling. Feeling better?” she runs her fingers through my hair which I realize is out of its high ponytail. She weaves my hair into a braid as my shallow gasps return to normal breathing.

“It’s okay, my love,” she kisses my forehead.

“What the fuck happened to me?” I say breathlessly.

She hugs my head to her chest and I’m forced to swerve my head because I don’t want to be anywhere near the blinking thing in front of me — my head lands on her shoulder.

“It’s a natural response to waking up in a different dimension, Darling,” she says through kisses, “it happens all the time.”

Something clicks in my brain.

No wonder no one came to the shop. They must’ve at some point but they probably all touched the antiques and ended up here. Nessa and I aren’t the first.

Someone else might still be here.

Aisa begins to stand up and I can’t help but cling to her. She holds her arms steady around me, helping me up as I take in a breath of flowers. A sweet-smelling fragrance coming from the nymphlike-whatever-she-is in front of me, and I want to be closer. Aisa giggles and it’s such an adorable sound. She holds my face in her hands and smiles at me and I want to see her smiling forever and be with her and —

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She pats my head, “There we go, love. Feeling better?” she asks and I nod.

She takes my hand in hers and leads me down the stairs to where we were yesterday. I know I’ve only been in her house once before, but it all feels so familiar — like coming back to your childhood home after being away at university. Aisa sits me down on one of the stools at the tree stump table and pours me tea from that same black teapot.

As I stare at the dark liquid, I feel uneasy. Am I…

Forgetting… something…?

I don’t want to drink the tea. I want to puke. I cover my mouth, trying not to gag out loud.

“Is something the matter? Honey?” I get a chill as Aisa strokes my back, up and down, in an attempt to calm me.

“I feel sick,” I’m going to pass out.

“Drink your tea, dear, you’ll feel better.”

“No!” I swiftly throw the tea on the floor, the liquid seeps into the wood and Aisa tries to hide the fact that she’s a little more than angry.

“You don’t like tea?” she says softly through her teeth.

“Something is definitely wrong,” I mutter, “I’m forgetting something important.”

“You’re forgetting how much you need to drink this tea,” Aisa doesn’t take her eyes off me as she picks up the broken teacup off the floor with her bare hands. She doesn’t even flinch as a shard pierces her skin and for some reason, I want to be worried about her, but I’m not.

She slams her bloody fist on the table, “This has gone on long enough,” she’s insane, “no matter how many times I reset your memory, we always get to the exact same spot in time!” she laughs and flings the shards my way. My arms go up, protecting my face and she grabs one of them with her bloody hand, holding one last shard in the other, “you don’t want to drink the stupid tea, but that’s not all, you’re forgetting something, aren’t you? You’re forgetting that I’ve been trying to make you mine all week and we haven’t even finished a day!” She drags the shard along my arm, digging the point into my skin. I can barely feel the pain over all the anger and memories flooding back to me.

I came here with Nessa.

Aisa tried to hurt us.

Now she’s trying to kill me again — well, I won’t sit back this time.

Screw it all.

“This is new,” Aisa laughs at me as I stand and grip her wrist in my hand, “Usually you scream in pain and pass out. Feeling adventurous today, bitch?”

I squeeze and Aisa drops the shard. She claws at my hand, begging me to let her go as I drag her to the knife block she has on her counter, along with the many herbs and books. I slam her arm down on the counter, a knife comfortable in my hand.

“Where’s Nessa?” I demand.

“As if I’d tell you!” some kind of black liquid pours out of her eyes. Is she crying? Poor thing, if only I cared.

I raise the knife, “Talk or I’m going to start chopping fingers.”

She spits at me and I replay a message in my head over and over.

She’s not human and she’s evil, she’s not human and she’s evil, she’s not human and she’s evil.

“Oh, hesitating are we?” Aisa laughs at me again, “You’re pathetic, don’t you know that you should never hesitate-” her sentence gets cut off by a scream — her scream, as she stares at her hand which now lies on the floor, far away from where it should be at the base of her arm.

Oops — I cut too far. Oh well, practice makes perfect.

I raise the knife again, “Start talking.”

“She’s in the basement with the other failed specimens. You can go to her if you’d like — you’re next after all!!!”

Her true colours have finally shown. She’s screaming and laughing like a maniac, her hair is a mess, she somehow grew fangs and the black tar-like substance is flowing out of her eyes at more rapid speeds. I can feel her wriggling under my grip — I guess humanoid, probably immortal beings are afraid of death too, who knew?

“I don’t think I will just yet,” I say, smiling. I have to admit, I might be enjoying torturing her just a little — helping release repressed anger and hate for certain people or something.

I move my hand up her arm and slice it off at the joint and her screams and cries turn out to be music to my ears.

“I finally get it,” Aisa says breathlessly, “It’s not me who’s the monster here, it’s you — look at you!”

“Get your eyes checked, bitch,” I drive the knife into the one place I wanted to avoid at all costs. She pissed me off — it’s her own fault. It takes a few tries to tug the knife out of her tit-eye, the hole I left began bleeding that black tar. I take a step back and admire my work.

Aisa is kneeling on the floor, screaming and crying in pain, “No, how could you. Don’t leave me. I don’t want to die alone,” she whimpers as the tar spews out all 3 of her eyes. She shrinks smaller and smaller until she’s nothing but a puddle of sticky black goo. Then it’s silent.

Quiet, so quiet, I almost forget what I’m doing (again.)

I run around the first floor, flinging doors open hoping one of them is the door to the basement. Then I find it.

It’s dark. Like someone attached the gateway into the abyss, but the stairs are going downward so this must be it, right?

“Nessa?” I call out in a whisper. At first, there’s no response, then a cough, then a “Cass…? Is that you…?” followed by a weak sounding, “help… me…” then nothing.

Yep, this is it, I think to myself as I take that first step, one small step into my worst nightmare, one giant leap toward my death. Woohoo.