Chapter Twenty-Three

In my dream, I was in my room. A kind of bone-deep darkness hung in the air, but it wasn't complete; suspended above it, almost as a second layer of atmosphere, was a strange, gauzy glow. Colored streaks lived at the edges of my vision, the way that teen prevention movies show the world through the eyes of kids on hallucinogenic drugs.

But in this dream, the lights didn't seem strange—they were pretty, and I got out of bed to chase them out of my peripherals. My feet seemed to have other ideas, though, because they marched me across my room and to the door, which hung slightly ajar. I thought I felt a prickling on the pads of my feet, but the sensation fled quickly as I ducked into the hallway, which was bathed in the same fuzzy light, and sidled easily down the stairs.

There were shadows all around me, guiding me through the living room and kitchen with icy fingers, but I was not afraid. This was only a dream, after all; they couldn't hurt me.

I waltzed into the sun room on floating feet, past the sleeping form of dream-Zipper. The outer door was streaked with water; it was raining hard. Still, I did not hesitate to push it open and step out into the downpour. It should have been cold, and I knew that, but I didn't feel the chill, even as I strode through the muddy grass on my bare feet, leaving the door ajar behind me.

The wind whistled; I felt the pellets of rain bearing down on my scalp, but the sensation was muted. Everything was still hazy, reminding me with every step that this was not real. I wondered if somehow, I'd unlocked a lucid dream all on my own; but no, that couldn't be right, could it? If that were the case, I would be in control, and I wasn't. There was a force in my feet that guided my steps through the dirt.

At the fence I stopped, placing two hands on its slick surface and hauling myself up to sit atop it. I paused for a moment at that vantage point, looking first to the right, at my blurry blue house, then to the left, at the forest. Ahead of me lay a mystery, all of those trees there that were just begging me to get lost in their mazes. So, with a sigh that had no cause, I leapt to the ground and padded calmly into the dark.

I followed my own footsteps into the woods, walking in a careful rhythm as the howling gale threw leaves into my hair and hair into my face. A small branch flew by, scratching my cheek, but I paid it no mind; I hardly even felt it. I had a destination, and though I didn't know what it was, I knew that I needed to get there.

Step, step, step, said my brain, counting the soft squelches of my feet against the sopping ground. In my mind, the woods were alive with sound. Branches bending, creaking, their wooden limbs crying out in pain; birds, tucked away in their nests, chirping as they tried to protect their homes from the rain; animal footsteps, darting in and out of bushes, just out of my sight. Everyone had come out to see the show, and I guess that was where I was going, too.

Eventually, after a hazy eternity of walking, I found myself approaching a familiar clearing: the little crescent of space just before Bear Lake came into view. That is where my feet stopped, planting me right in the clearing's center. The wind whipped around me and rain poured in a frenzied tempest, but I just stood there and smiled a little and let myself be lifted slightly off the ground. It was a strange sensation; I felt as if I was detached, not quite tethered to reality and at the mercy of the wind.

“So, she is here.”

The voice came from nowhere, yet everywhere; it wandered into the air with a sudden rush of smoothness. I felt it crawl through the clearing like a living creature and slip lithely into my ear.

“I said she would be, did I not?”

While the first voice had been male, the second was female. Where the other had been smooth and accented, like melting molasses, this one was sharp and harsh. The woman's voice grated; the man's voice purred.

“You did,” acknowledged the first voice. It paused, then called, “Turn around, please.”

Again, my feet acted of their own accord, twirling me around in a gentle pirouette. I squinted against the rain, scanning the treeline for the speakers. After a moment my eyes landed on a pair of shadows, nothing more than a dark assemblage of tinted air.

“Hello!” I called blithely.

I heard a scoff as, right before my eyes, the humanoid shapes began to materialize into flesh. It was like watching a flickering image appear on a projector; they took form gradually, become real creatures with bodies and limbs and faces. They were clad in misty black, their clothing shuddering into solidity like a dredged up memory. Suits. Both of them wore suits. It began to dawn on my as I stood there, still as stone, but nothing sunk in until one of them looked up and fixed me with a familiar smile.

“Hello, Parker,” said the cruel, cruel boy.

And my dream was suddenly imagined into a terrifying reality.

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They were everywhere: shifting shadows with icy edges, pouring from the forest in a wave of ebony. They gathered behind those first two, the cruel boy and the sharp woman, and took solid form, so that I could see their unfathomable eyes.

I felt the cold now; I felt everything. I felt the rain as it pricked my flesh, the wind as it stung my face. I felt completely soaked through, and my teeth chattered as I lifted my stinging feet in a quick march, trying my best not to sink into the mud.

This was not a dream.

It never had been.

After a short eternity of traded gazes, the cruel boy stepped forward from the pack, crossing the clearing with those measured steps until he was only a few feet away from me. He didn't seem bothered by the weather in the least, and he merely tilted his head and let his lips curl up into an ugly smirk.

“Are you cold?” he asked me.

I tried to stand up straight, but my entire body was shaking. Still, I shook my head. “No,” I snapped. He was close; too close. If he had been three miles away, he would have been too close. I wanted to run away, to release my fear in an endless scream, but I forced myself to stand my ground.

“That's too bad,” he murmured, his eyes drifting over my shoulder. “But I suppose it doesn't matter. You'll be easy to subdue, regardless.” He snapped at something above my head, and I suddenly felt the pressure of twin grips on either of my arms.

“What are you doing?” I demanded.

The boy tilted his head. “Subduing you.”

I looked over my should to see two of those shadows, their wispy arms somehow pinning my arms to my side. Their touch was like ice, and the sensation of it overpowered even the rain. I threw myself against their grip, struggling furiously, but they whipped me back so quickly that it knocked the wind from my lungs.

The creatures laughed as one.

“Who are you?” I spat, though I guess, deep down, I already knew. “What the hell are you trying to do with me?”

“I hope this doesn't sound too crass,” said the boy, his accent smooth and old, “but we're going to kill you. I don't quite think it matters who we are.”

“I don't care what you think,” I chattered, rainwater flowing into my eyes. “If you're going to kill me anyway, why can't you just tell me?”

He looked at the woman, who shrugged, her face impassive. The boy nodded.

“We don't have a name,” he said simply, “but your kind have called us many things. The shadows, the nightmares, the devil, God; we've heard it all, in a million tongues and voices. Really, though, we are nothing but deal-makers. We will help anyone who needs us, and all we want is a small gift in return.”

“A gift.” I tried to scoff, but shivered instead. “Like my sister?”

That gave the boy a moment of pause, and he regarded me through those soulless eyes. “Your sister,” he said softly, “Rosemary.” With a few slow, deliberate steps, he shrunk the distance between us and put the back of his hand beneath my chin. “You are even prettier than she was.”

I reeled away from his icy touch, but only backed into the shadows. “What does that even matter?”

“We collect beautiful things,” said the boy, rocking back on his heels. “Treasures. It is our entire purpose: to gather all the lovely things in your world and bring them back to ours. And the most precious treasure, by far, is souls. It used to be easy, finding an untarnished soul. But your kind is rotting, and we have to look hard now, just to find someone whose soul is clean.” He frowned, looking me up in down. “You're not spotless,” he added, “but you'll do.”

I leaned against my captors, fighting the urge to dissolve into hysterical laughter. I was drenched in ice water and being held captive by shadow monsters in the middle of a forest, and they wanted my soul. Things like this happened in movies, not my life.

“Souls,” I murmured, a crying laugh slipping from my mouth. “Why? Why do you need souls?”

The boy looked at me as if that should been obvious, and when I didn't react, he sighed. His hand snaked up to the collar of his suit, and he pulled it away slightly to reveal a small, opaque sphere.

“We wear them,” he said, “and they keep us alive.”

I stared at the boy, and the little charm pinned within his clothes. “I-I don't—”

“You don't understand what you're worth,” he snapped. “When you humans think of souls, you think of that little wisp of smoke that floats off to your imagined heaven. But they are so much more than that. Your souls are the very core of your life, and when we take them, we take everything you are, everything you were, and everything you ever will be.”

“But—but that's not fair,” I breathed, my voice a quiet plea.

“Hasn't anyone ever told you that life isn't fair? We need this to survive. There are six billion of your species; there are mere hundreds of mine. What is one human life to preserve an entire race?” He pinched the sphere between his fingers, smiling faintly, reminiscently. “This belongs to your sister,” he said. “It's running low. But after tonight, I'll have a replacement.”

I tried not to shudder as he smiled at me, shark-like.

“You won't,” I said, with as much force as I could muster. “Human life is worth more than monsters like you could ever understand, and I won't let you take it away.”

The boy laughed, the sound sharp and painful, like squealing metal. He leaned near to me, very close, too close and narrowed his eyes. “You think you matter,” he spat. “You think people care about you. But really, who does? Your mother? You were never her favorite. Your neighbor? She'll have no trouble finding a new friend. That boy you care for so much? Oh, Parker, he'll move on so quickly. You have no one to miss you. No one to care. You are just as insignificant as every other miniscule human being on this planet. We're the ones who make you matter. We're the ones who take your souls and make them into something great. And we are so much more deserving of your pointless existence.”

I lifted my chin in an attempt at defiance; my lips quivered. “That's not true,” I said lamely, but I felt every one of his words like stabs in the pit of my heart. The brutal smirk on the boy's lips curved up contemptuously as he brought a chilly hand to the side of my face. Rain beat down on us from all sides, but while I shook, he remained stoic, calm, complete unaware.

“Maybe it isn't,” he agreed, his palm against my cheek. “But maybe it is. Either way, Parker”—his frost-tipped nose touched mine—“how do you intend to stop me?”

I thought he would try to kiss me; I steeled myself for the frigid iron of his lips. But he pulled away, shaking his head. “You have no idea. Of course you don't, you foolish human being with nothing to live for.” He looked over his shoulder abruptly, turning to the masses of shadows that lurked in the forest behind him. “Bring out her friend,” he called.

My stomach hit my rib cage, churning in dread at the word “friend.” Images flashed through my mind, of Logan, Juliette, Aubrey, stolen from their beds at midnight and dragged out into the darkness. But they were not the ones who stumbled out into the open from behind the suited creatures. They were not the ones who fell to their knees, thin hands in the dirt—and looked up at me with a very placid smile.

“Oh, hello, Parker,” said Laury, her blonde hair falling over her eyes. “Fancy seeing you here.”

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Dedicated to Ave for the gorgeous banner on the side.

A/N: I apologize for taking an obscene amount of time it took me to post this and what even is that ending and ugh I'm not very happy with this chapter but hopefully you guys somewhat enjoy it and at least it's updated I guess.