Within These Walls

Life After Dark: 25 (WTW Sequel)

I throw my army against the Ancient's tide, and the clash rattles through me like thunder. His force cuts through my reins and leaves me holding onto tattered ribbons.

"Hey, whoa!" Marcus shouts as he wraps one arm around my falling body and uses the other to strike out at a few wayward Blanks making their way toward us.

I'm shaking with the force trying to disintegrate me. My head feels like an orb filled with dark agony, floating ten feet over my body. I reach out with my feeble strength to hold on to our protectors. I might be able to control these Blanks, but nothing has prepared me for what it's like to go head-to-head with a being whose power far exceeds mine. And worse, who knows how to use his power. In a fight for domination over the Blanks, there is no doubt who will win.

"I don't want to do it like this," I grit out, eyes squeezed shut.

Marcus holds his arm ready before us. "Do what?"

"Destroy him. Destroy this place. With—with you inside it."

I expect questions I can't answer, but instead he tightens his hold on me and says, "I'm not leaving."

My throat closes up with all of the other things I want to say to him but can't manage to force out. I clasp the hand pressed against my stomach and squeeze tightly. "There's no way out of this. Not for either of us."

My sorrow breaks my focus a little, just enough for a few Blanks to break through the line keeping us safe. Marcus sends them flying before I can rein them in again.

The light flickers. 

"The light," he says. "It keeps doing that because of me?"

I nod.

"Whatever you're thinking has something to do with that, doesn't it?" he asks.

Whoever said Marcus was all brawn and no brains was completely wrong. He's always been sharp and cunning, picking up on subtext while I was drowning in noise. Maybe if I stop the Ancient, there's still a chance for him. It's the only thought that fuels me right now.

I reach into my pocket and pull out a switchblade, flicking the blade open. When I hold out my hand and press the blade against it, Marcus steps toward me.

"What the fuck, Rose?"

I slice deep through my palm and whimper at the streak of pain. Blood spatters onto the marble-like white floor and, almost immediately, the light starts to flicker. Black vein-like tendrils appear in the walls and the ground beneath us, spreading out in all directions. Then everything begins to shake violently. I drop on my knees, held up by Marcus's arms.

"What are you doing?" he demands.

"I have to," I pant. "It's –it's the only way."

Marcus and I might not be Ancients, but the Nexus recognizes the part of us made from these creatures—the part that connects us to this place. It's why the Nexus pulses with darkness each time Marcus uses his ability to hurt—and why its brightness has been eroded by my self-harm while still inside the Nexus. The Ancient is too powerful to kill. This is the next best thing.

NO!

Goose bumps erupt over me as the Ancient's raw emotion splits through my head. Marcus's wide gaze tells me he heard it too. "Oh shit, you made him mad."

"No kidding," I say limply.

As though he understands, Marcus begins to use his ability with renewed fervor, sending bodies sailing away with a clear intent to do as much damage as possible. I feel the Ancient's desperation clawing through my hold. Instead of making me weaker, the pain seems to have sharpened the dull edges of my mind. Honed my ability into a multi-pronged weapon that I've wedged deeper into each Blank under my control.

The Nexus has almost healed the first wound, so I cut my hand again. Then, before the light stabilizes, I slice the blade across my forearm. Each new cut brings a fresh wave of blinding pain, but the rumbling is getting stronger and the light dimmer and the dark veins in the floor and the wall behind us are too wide-spread now to ignore.

The Ancient finally stops trying to hack at my control over the Blanks and instead cuts right through me.

We've won.

I have just a moment to feel euphoric relief before I am impaled on a spear of willpower, flailing helplessly to free myself from the inevitable. In a battle for control over my mind, the Ancient's power is overwhelming. My thoughts come undone as he takes root in my brain, and I fall like a sack of bricks.

I barely manage to break my fall with my arms. The jolt of impact on the cold floor feels like it shatters my fragile body. Overcome by a sense of urgency, I jump up immediately to confront my attacker.

Only there's no one there.

The teenagers sitting around me in the cafeteria of the stress facility stare with unabashed curiosity. Some of them snicker. I stare around at them, my chest moving hard and sweat trickling down my face and neck.

What just happened?

Why did I fall out of my chair?

"What's up with her?" a voice says.

The answer comes in the form of a snicker. I sit down with shaky legs and hunch forward to hide my embarrassment. Someone—I think it's the big guy they call Eli—guffaws one last time. I sneak a glance at him where he's seated with the popular kids. The loud and tough crowd. The ones who all have something I don't: confidence. Purpose. Friends.

Their leader is a Hispanic boy with dark lethal eyes now trained on me. I feel a jolt of shock and fear that he'll single me out. That he'll come over to where I sit in the back corner and try to goad me into doing something I'm not built for. The way I've seen him do to that pretty girl that I know he likes since he's always finding excuses to talk to her.

But he doesn't. Of course, he doesn't. Instead, his eyes slide past me like I'm not even there and one by one, the kids in the underground facility return to their lunch and their conversations. Leaving me sitting there as always: alone, forgotten, and completely unremarkable.