Vitality (Vitality Series #1)

Chapter 45 Why Me? pt.1

"Kill them. Kill them," an echo in a dream chanted to Dahlila. It came steadily closer as she moved through a house, its doors opening to her on the way, showing her glimpses of people she didn't recognize.

Suddenly, she was in the tunnels of Lithium, alone. Bodies lifted their heads to her presence, drunk on pleasure. Hunger sparked inside their eyes as they bit down on victims beneath them, blood spilling and filling the room. A wave of blood splashed through the cave after her. She ran but couldn't run fast enough. The ground underneath repeated, denying her progress forward. Her screams were muffled, and she turned back to look.

Layton came out into the tunnel, a smug look twisted dangerously across his face, and slowly, he edged his way to her. His feet carelessly stepped past the bodies on the floor. The wave of blood behind him suspended in stop-motion, continuing aberrantly. Lights flickered through it as he stepped and stepped, closer and closer. The fiery gleam in his eye burning deeper. The dripping curve of his mouth turning more evil. Only he could move freely, though he took his time, and as the tunnel began to swallow into darkness, only his eyes were left lit. He was a monster creeping in the dark.

"Make him suffer," the voice whispered now in her ear.

Dahlila looked to the voice — she was in her house now. She heard a gurgling sound and turned to it. Ava was there, wrapping her hand around her own throat. Blood poured through her fingers from a thick slash in her neck. Dahlila looked down to see a bloody knife in her own hand — she dropped it. Ava dropped with anguish. Danny and Shane lay dead on the floor with the same wounds as the knife rattled to the ground.

Dahlila screamed into consciousness and sweat poured down her head.

She looked around the room in the dark, reached over to turn on the lamp, and grabbed her phone.

"Yeah?" Danny croaked.

"Danny," she panted, "Danny. Can you come? Can you? Please, now?"

He coughed on the other line to clear his throat. "I really gotta start charging you for this."

Dahlila waited, on the verge of crying if he said no.

"I'll be over." The phone clicked.

Dahlila went downstairs, turning on all the lights as she went. Ava's door was left ajar and she went in to see if she was home yet. It shocked her how well Ava had put the room together. Just as it had shocked her the first time she had seen her doing it. It was so random and unsettling that Dahlila left the house quietly, eager to get away... As with so many other times with Ava.

Drawings were hung and laid all over the room. Dahlila hadn't known she was this far into her drawings, and was astonished at the plethora. Some of them made her uncomfortable, with no understanding why, but then again — Ava...

This room gave her too many bad memories of when her grandmother used to sit in there, rocking in her chair, and mumbling nonsense for as long as Dahlila remembered. "He's here. He's here. He's here." All the insane things her father used to say rushed at her just then. More than ever now, she was beginning to hear them as he had said them, and she really did not want to.

Dahlila had thought about talking to Ava about it. She'd heard her say and do some weird things and was pretty sure Ava still heard voices or even saw things that weren't there. At first, it took everything in her not to kick her out from fright, but then Dahlila realized Ava might be the only person she knew who could understand what she was going through, no matter how much Danny tried. Dahlila didn't hear voices, but she had nightmares so intense and surreal that they lingered for days.

Dahlila laughed suddenly as she passed a few drawings and paintings Ava had done of her, Danny, and Shane. They looked so happy, so comfortably meshed, so found. Sunny breakfasts, water wars, wrestling, dancing, drinks, cards, and bikes, and laughing, and hugging... and Shane running from a bat... bright eyes... unbridled smiles... pure bliss... She had no idea Ava felt this way about them; it almost unsettled her once again. And it saddened her. It was like there was an empty hole inside of her, jostled by a wind of awareness. But for whatever reason, the pictures felt right.

Then she came to a picture hanging on the wall that Dahlila thought she had seen before: a girl with bloody hands, wrists bound in rope. She ran her finger across it as a tear rolled down her face.