Echoed Lullabies (Lunar Chronicles x Reader)

Chapter 6

"Y/n."

I glanced up from the book I was reading. A little boy stood in the midst of a field, the lines of wheat like gold. The sun framed him perfectly, a halo around his charcoal hair.

He held up a ball in his hand. "Will you play catch with me?"

"Can we play later, Isaac? I'm almost done with this chapter." I gestured to the leatherbound novel in my hands.

Isaac pouted. "You're the worst sister ever."

My mouth opened halfway, trying to formulate a response, before I sighed. "Okay, fine. One game, that's it."

His bottle green eyes brightened and he beamed. "Follow me!"

Isaac spun and bolted through the wheat, heading towards the house behind him that wasn't there a moment ago. Its windows were broken, its wood rotting. I feared Isaac would fall through when he stepped onto the wraparound porch and darted through the dusty doorway.

"Wait, Isaac!" I scrambled after him. Particles of dust floated in the air of the front room. They coated my skin. The inside of my nose. The back of my throat.

I coughed. Isaac was nowhere to be seen. "I thought we were going to play catch!" I shouted into a dim hallway.

His laugh echoed. I hesitantly crossed into the dark corridor, glancing around wearily. "Isaac? Where are you?"

"In here," his sweet voice cooed.

I peered around the next door frame into what looked like a dressing room, but it was stripped of all its signature furnishings. The vague outlines of mirrors and vanities were burned into the walls and the strips of lightbulbs that had surrounded them had been reduced to empty sockets. The carpet had been pulled up, revealing cold stone beneath, and the solid oak door had been taken off its hinges and left abandoned in the corner, replaced instead with welded iron bars.

In the center of the room, on top of a milk white chair with a fluffy pink cushion, stood Isaac. His back was to me.

"Isaac?" I cocked my head, then stepped further into the room. "What are you doing? Get down from there, you'll hurt yourself."

Hands clamped around my biceps.

I gasped, struggling, but their grip didn't let up. Their hands chilled my skin through my clothes. I couldn't get a look at my captor. When I tried to crane my neck back, one of the hands gripped my chin and forced me to look forward. Their fingers were so cold it burned.

Isaac hummed as a dark silhouette shaded the wall behind him.

"Isaac!" I shouted, panic seizing me. "Get out of here!"

Isaac whirled around, and I screamed. His eyes were gone. Blood beaded in the empty sockets, trickling down his face like tears. He was ghostly pale.

"What's wrong, big sister?"

The shadow walked up behind him and draped a rope around his neck, then attached it to the ceiling.

The boy cocked his head. "Do you not like me like this?"

My voice broke. "Isaac—"

More blood ran down his face. "Well, it was you who made me like this."

My lips parted. "No! I would never let anyone hurt you!"

The person behind him pulled the noose tight. He giggled. "But you did, big sister. You let them do this to me."

"Who?" I cried. "Isaac, I—"

"This is your fault." He grinned.

The chair was kicked out from under him. The rope pulled taut.

* * *

"No!"

I bolted awake, sitting straight up in bed. My wrists were bound, and those hands were still clamped around my biceps.

"Isaac!" I screamed. I convulsed, trying to get out of my captor's grip. "Let me go!"

"Woah, woah, woah. It's me, y/n!"

"Let go!"

I slammed my head against theirs.

"Agh!" They recoiled, making the bed squeak. The person clapped a hand to their head. "What the hell?"

I scrambled backwards until my shoulder blades rested against the wall. My breaths heaved. The ghosts of those hands were still squeezing my arms. Dust lined the inside of my throat, filling me, choking me—

I covered my face with my hands and discovered the skin there to be wet. A broken sob escaped past my lips. I drew my knees to my chest.

Fingers brushed against my kneecaps and I shoved them off.

"It's just me, y/n," a smooth voice said.

My breaths slowed the smallest bit. I peeked through a narrow gap between my fingers. "Thorne?"

This time, he didn't try to touch me, but he did scoot forward on the mattress. "Yeah."

I tried to ground myself. I wasn't back in that room. Isaac wasn't here. I was on the Rampion, sitting against the wall that hugged my bunk.

And I was crying in front of Thorne.

I exhaled harshly, suddenly drained, and leaned my head back against the wall with a heavy thunk. "Stars."

What the hell was that about? Why was my subconscious dwelling on the memory of Isaac, and a wrong one at that? Isaac had been taken by the plague. So who were those people in my dream?

"You alright there?"

I wiped my eyes. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine," I said in a scratchy voice, throat sore from yelling.

"You were having a nightmare."

I ran a hand over my forehead tiredly. "Sorry for waking you up."

"What?" Thorne gave me an incredulous look. "That's not what I'm concerned about."

"I'm fine. It was nothing."

"Nothing? That wasn't nothing. You were screaming."

I shook my head. "Seriously. It's fine. Don't worry about it."

Thorne thumbed the sheets of my bunk. He was watching me steadily. "Who's Isaac?"

"It doesn't matter," I said firmly.

He stared at me for an uncomfortable amount of time, then sighed. "Will you wake me up if you need anything else?"

"I won't have to," I insisted. I was insulted, intrigued, and confused at the way he was acting.

He blinked once. Twice. Then blew out a breath. "Okay. Try to get some rest, okay?"

I frowned as he awkwardly pulled the blanket farther around my legs. A moment later, he flicked open a pocket knife and sliced through my wrist restraints, giving my hands the freedom they'd been craving.

I stared, dumbfounded, as he gave me one last look and then left the room.