Page 7 of Gorgeous Nightmare

“FUCKING.”

*Punch

“DARE.”

*Punch

“YOU.”

*Punch

“TOUCH HER!”

*Punch.

Tyler’s head rolls to the side on that last one before falling to the floor in a bloody, lifeless pile.

Hmm, kind of looks like he took a meat grinder to the face, just with a little less blood. Damn. Forgot I could do that.Oops.

“We don’t hurt women, fucker.”

I kick my boot into his stomach, just for good measure.Let’s hope I broke a rib or two.

I look down and see the scarlet blood draining out of his face like a crimson river before looking at my own crimson-soaked hands, smiling to myself just a little.

I always did like red.

I turn to walk away without throwing him or any of my not-any-fucking-more friends a glance. They run to his side, scrambling to try and figure out how to help him.Good. They can try and pick up the pieces.

I have more important things to worry about right now.

My little nightmare needs me.

CHAPTER 8

Aisling

I’ve been stuck in this damn chamber for what feels like an eternity. I’ve tried falling back asleep, pinching myself, but nothing brings me back. The dream world has always been a bitch for me to navigate and tonight's no exception.

The room I woke up in is, and I’m not going to lie, absolutely stunning. High vaulted ceiling with exposed wooden beams, the color of night crawls high above me. The walls are coated in velvet, eerily similar to the color of blood, but still the perfect contrast to the black, wrought iron lanterns and accents that are spread along it.

Black candles are splayed throughout the room, their light dancing off full-length mirrors with dark,intricate frames, making the room feel both inviting and slightlyoff.

If I didn’t know better, I’d think this place was styled by the Gods. I’d wake up here again if it gave me the chance to discover their decorator’s secrets.

My eyes fixate on the giant cathedral-style doors in front of me, and I take a deep breath in, grounding myself.

No better time than the present, I guess.

My arms strain against the weight of the solid wood, opening it just enough for my body to slip through. My hands instinctively wrap around my barely clothed body, a shiver clawing its way down my back.

Even in my dreams, I can’t show up in some mysterious dream-like leather, like I’m ready for battle. Nope. Just me and my oversized tee, looking like I sleepwalked straight out of an existential crisis.

I take in the long hallway in front of me, grand arches and winding corridors that have doors liningeach side. Might as well gamble with my nightmare–worst case, I wake up.

Best case, I meet my monsters.

I move through the hallway silently. Every door I try to open pushes back against me, as if it holds secrets they don’t want me to know about. Until one gives, slow and deliberate, like it’s been waiting here for me.

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