HEDOSCHISM: WATTY AWARD WINNER

14 // ANGELUS

'Well now, there you are!' she exclaimed. 'I thought maybe I had lost you already, but I see that you're still in there somewhere. What a rather pleasant surprise. It would be easier if you could move, but matter not. What cannot move itself, can still be moved and it's so much better that we can talk before we leave here.'

Leave. Yes. Leave it all. Get out. Run away.

Her eyes flitted over my face as she stroked the backs of her fingers over my cheek.

'Oh, but silly me!' she said, with a small frown that quickly disappeared. 'Of course, I'll be the one that does the talking, seeing as you appear to be unable, which is really such a shame for you. I hear ketamine is something of a Russian Roulette. Euphoria or incapacitation. It's such a terribly fine line, isn't it? I wonder, which one were you hoping for, dear?'

Sitting back on her heels, she let go of my chin and my head rolled back to rest on the cushioned edge of the sofa. She cast her gaze around the room, pursing her lips as her eyes came back to rest on my limp form. Picking up one of my hands, she placed it in her lap and stroked my palm, idly making circles with the pad of her thumb. Outside, I was mannequin-still, but inside, I wanted to run. To scream. This wasn't what I'd thought it was and I had a horrible, dark feeling creeping up my limbs that conjured flashes of black, pungent mould spreading over faces and walls.

'You really have had quite a horrid time, haven't you?' she said, matter-of-factly. 'I can't even begin to imagine how frightfully confusing it must have all been. Simply terrifying, I suppose. It's rather hard for the human brain to comprehend, I know, particularly one as fragile as yours, but I can assure you that it will all be okay. It really will. Of course, the first part will unfortunately not be particularly pleasant, and quite painful I'm told, but it's inevitable I'm afraid and once it's over, you will forget all about it very quickly, I can promise you that.'

Raising my hand to her mouth, she pressed her lips to my palm.

'You do believe me, don't you, dear?' she said, placing my open palm against her cheek and holding it there, closing her eyes almost as if in rapture at my touch.

'Whether she does or not, it's not like she can tell you right now, Juliette, as you well know.'

The woman's eyes flew open, a fury burning within which she quickly buried, turning her head to look in the direction of Ethan's voice, that wide smile returning in full force.

He stood in the doorway to the living room, looking bigger than I remembered, but I knew he wasn't. It wasn't him that had grown, it was that darkness he always carried with him, filling the doorframe, the room, the whole house. It was palpable and terrifying and I was torn between my fear of him and a spark of elation that he was alive and that he was here.

The woman – Juliette, I now knew – dropped my hand back into her lap, but didn't let go, and I felt the distinct tremble of her hand around mine, not that her face announced a shred of nerves as she stared at Ethan, her gaze steady and controlled.

'Ethan,' she said, the breathless catch in her voice betraying her. 'Well, now, this is a surprise. Blake's been looking for you for simply forever, you know. Not one sighting for years, not one whisper of you and now here you are. He'll be so pleased to know that you've resurfaced.'

'I couldn't give a shit if Blake whipped out a fucking marching band and paraded down the street naked in celebration. I'm not here for Blake,' he said. 'I'm here for the girl.'

I detected his anger, even as I languished just under the surface, I could hear it, feel it. It was so strong, I think I would have felt it fathoms deep.