Oops! Această imagine nu respectă Ghidul de Conținut. Pentru a continua publicarea, te rugăm să înlături imaginea sau să încarci o altă imagine.
Nothing about this was sane.
Gabe, Chase, Eden--the Omega Door. It was all so. . .so. . .CRAZY!
But I couldn't think about any of it without having a mental breakdown, and partially hyperventilating. Correction; I was hyperventilating from running and boy am I out of shape.
With Tiberius at my side, following closely if not at my feet, I bounded through the endless trek of wood until I was sure we were getting close to the road. Seeing how my ride was the literal person I needed to stay as far away as possible, I didn't have many options lest I wanted to get caught.
The moment I saw Lockhouse in the distance and its creepy well house, I never felt happier.
Huh. Who would've thought my own house should be the morbid image of trauma I've innately inherited, if not brandished thoroughly since arriving in Matheson, rather then be the blissful relief I was feeling as I finally inhaled one long swig of air and slowed my ragged movements.
I was a good distance away. I think it was safe to say I was in the—
"Max, where have you been? I've been calling but—"
No. No, no, no, no, no. Whether it was panic ringing in my ears or the slugged movement in my limbs considering I ran more then three miles, I couldn't move or speak or no less, consciously let Gabe's voice sink in. How ironic the soft spoken trill of the guy I loved became the poisonous song of a snake. It was Tiberius who hissed, pulling me from my momentary lapse of paralysis, but he showed no intent he was going to attack. I was thankful, for once in my life, that I wasn't alone in Gabe's presence. And that Tiberius was playing the role of being simply my house cat, and not the cat that Gabe—Dodge—whoever the hell this echo of a person was, who killed him. Or at least tried.
Playing dumb was all I had. Playing dumb was the only advantage I could have, unless Eden already got to him, or even that backstabbing Chase who I thought was my friend.
My mind ran rampant at once when Gabe approached me, his eyes actively searching my face for an answer. Worry stretching thin lines across his face, defining the furrow in his brows. He could see my thoughts going out at a mile at once, the way I flinched when he was a few feet from reaching me, how every step he took made me grow pale with horror.
An echo in disguise wearing the face of a boy I love—loved.
Was it even real?. . .
"Hey, hey, hey, what happened? You just left without saying anything, and you wouldn't answer my calls," Gabe could see me shaking, my face twitching, my eyes glistening—I had to be calm. I needed to be calm. Or else he'll know. Hell know and whatever advantage I thought I had, with him thinking me a fool, that chance would be gone. Because that's what I needed to think about. Not how Gabe abused me by pretending to love me, not how he personified being someone who was kind and generous and actually cared about me, not the fact his lips left love marks on my neck or the faint subtle remains of his cologne that were left on my clothes when he embraced me, not when he held my hand to make the panic attacks go away, or smiled at me like I was the only person in the world who could make him feel blissful.
