Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 112416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 562(@200wpm)___ 450(@250wpm)___ 375(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 562(@200wpm)___ 450(@250wpm)___ 375(@300wpm)
Tyche sucked in a deep breath through his nose and slowly released it from his mouth. With his shredded emotions at least partially under control, Tyche began again. “You passed out and had a nightmare. Nothing more.”
“Except you knew what was going to happen.”
“How would I know what you would dream?”
“No, you knew that I would have a nightmare. That’s why you gave me that trigger phrase. To help me pull out of it.”
Tyche bit his tongue. There was nothing he needed to say. He’d seen the effects of Yesuntei’s powers on people who frightened her or pissed her off. There were some who struggled to ever escape their nightmare, while others never shook it off, convinced even the waking world was still a dream. He didn’t want that for Shawn. Not to mention, he needed the man to be recovered before those bastards brought Yesuntei to her cell so they could break out of this place.
“Thank you,” Shawn murmured, surprising him. He’d expected the man to continue being pissed at him for keeping secrets, but at least he wasn’t going to hold a grudge about that. But there were still plenty of opportunities for that to happen.
“No problem. Do we have—”
He’d started to ask about their plan when he heard shouting from the other side of the door. There had been some muffled cries and screams after he woke from his nightmare, but he couldn’t make out too much through the thick steel door. They could only hear approaching footsteps as a person or group was drawing close. Tyche shoved to his feet on somewhat shaky legs. He kept his hand on the wall to steady himself as he watched the door. Frantic footsteps were approaching now.
A loud buzz preceded the door popping open. A single guard stomped in with Yesuntei’s limp, unconscious form under his arm. The man’s dark face shield was lowered, blocking them from seeing his expression, but there was something in his brisk gait and hard stomp that made Tyche think he was a mix of pissed and terrified. He walked straight to Yesuntei’s cell and dropped her in like a clump of wet laundry, then left. Not even bothering to close the cell door behind him.
“What did you do?” Tyche lunged for the bars and gripped them with both hands. He thrust his face forward, pressed his cheeks against the icy metal as he stared at the guard. “What did you do to her? She wouldn’t have hurt anyone. She’s fucking harmless, and you had to go hurt her.”
The guard stopped in front of Tyche and leaned in close. He didn’t lift the face shield, so Tyche could only see his own haggard features staring back at him. The man’s voice was muffled, but it trembled as he shouted, “She’s a fucking monster! She’s a monster, and I’m glad she’s dying! Fucking bitch!”
“Monster? You’re the fucking monster! She didn’t do anything you didn’t deserve!” Tyche screamed after him, spittle flying at the guard as he charged through the cellblock. He left with a hard slam of the door.
He’d brought his nightmares down on his own head. Tyche prayed he’d piss the bed every night for the rest of his life.
“Teitei? Can you hear me? It’s Shawn.” His companion’s gentle, coaxing words drew Tyche from his momentary rage.
A soft whisper of a moan trickled out of Yesuntei’s cell, followed by a tiny sob that crushed the remains of Tyche’s heart. “I’m sorry, Tyche. I tried…”
“No, no. This isn’t your fault, Teitei,” he rushed to reply. He lurched along the cell, changing his handholds on the bars, walking himself closer. Those bars were the only things keeping him upright when all he wanted to do was roll up into a tiny ball. This was all too big, and he was just an insignificant nobody. A tiny nothing who’d spent an eternity floating and slipping between the cracks.
“I couldn’t…Ty…I won’t make it.”
“Hey! Don’t talk like that. You can. You’ll heal,” Shawn immediately cut in, trying to give her some little shreds of hope to cling to, but he was wrong. Yesuntei would know. They all knew.
Panic gripped Tyche by the throat, closing off his windpipe while his brain scrambled. She couldn’t die. Not here. It was too dangerous.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! There was no time.
“Hold on! I’m coming!” Tyche shouted. He pried his fingers off the bars and scrambled to the door. He paused only long enough to look at the main door to their cellblock. From what he could guess, there was a camera that gave the guards a visual of the room, but they’d never reacted to anything he and Shawn said, so he’d always assumed that they didn’t have audio access. There were no noises coming from the other side of the door, but he guessed things were still in chaos following the explosion of Yesuntei’s magic.