Chapter ten

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The others catch up to us moments later. Mad, Dylan, and Kellan surround us and take in the site of Dem and me. 


"What's going on?" Dylan asks in a frustrated tone.


"We might know where Demi is." I respond slowly, looking at Dem who looks like he might be sick again.


"Well where?" He presses, inching closer to us.


"Nightmare land." I answer, tugging on my hair, not wanted to believe my own words. "We might not have any time, we need to go now."


"Wait what? Where's Demi? Can someone explain what the hell is happening right now?" Kellan snaps, the vein in his forehead prominent.


"I'll explain later. We just need to find Demi." I say, holding my hand up to silent any more panicked banter. ". . .and we need to hurry."


"I got this." Dylan says as he pulls out his phone. "Bro, it's me. Listen. . . I need a favor."


*                                                                                                      *                                                                                   *

Less than fifteen minutes later, we are with Dylan who is driving way pass the speed limit in a car that didn't even belong to him.


"You don't even have your license!" I hiss from the backseat, while holding on to the headrest in front of me.  "Slow down!"


We all are piled into an aged and foul smelling Dodge rushing to Demi's aid.


"We don't have any time. Beside, we both have permits. That's basically a license." Kellan tells me and turns his attention back to Dylan. "Turn here."


"Now start explaining." Dylan says, turning the steering wheel and meeting my eyes in the mirror. "What the hell is going on? And why are we going back to Nightmare Land?"


"Well, this thing is definitely not human. I don't even know what it is. But it thrives off terror. It knows our greatest fears. . . " I start to explain. I take a deep breath as he makes another sharp turn.


 If this thing doesn't kill us, Dylan's driving will. 


"My greatest nightmare is waking up, in a dark room, paralyzed. And It... made that happen. But it was real. It wasn't just a bad dream. It actually happened. I was there, paralyzed. . ." My voice cracks as I recall the awful memory. ". . . and it leaves marks, after the visit."


Knowing they were going to ask to see it, I waste no time and I pull my shirt slightly down to reveal my marking. Dem's eyes widen. I assume that he just realized his mark is identical. 

"What the-" Dylan begins and shakes his head. The cars swerves and he quickly returns his attention to the road and accelerates. "Sick bastard."

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