Page 25 of Neon Pestilence
“Y-you don’t have to decide tonight,” he stutters, voice shaking like a crumbling building. Placing his finger under my jaw, he pulls my chin up until our gazes meet. “If you want to s-stay, meet me at my tent tomorrow night, before the f-final set.”
“I-I uh.” I try to speak, but my mind is racing. He’s talking to me. I don’t know the reason, and I don’t need one. He’s whispering a promise to only me, for only my ears.
He releases me seconds later. I forgot that he can hear my thoughts. It’s kind of creepy but also nice. I don’t need to explain everything to him; he just knows. But, at the same time, it leaves every thought laid out before him like I’m an open book. At least in that way, our vulnerability is mirrored, fractures of it showing through.
He shakes his head and reaches into his pocket, and I know what it means instinctually. I open my mouth before he pulls the bottle from his suit, laying my tongue flat for him.
I can’t see him smile, but I swear I can feel it, as he breaks the top off and pours the pink liquid into my mouth. I swallow every drop, greedy for it. I know it may be one of the last times I get to taste it, feel its effects. And fuck, I’m really not ready for it to end.
My eyes grow heavy instantly, the exhaustion finally taking its toll on my body. I feel The Doctor sweeping me into his arms, my heavy-set body seemingly weightless to him.
The sounds of bass and singing lull me to sleep in his arms until I hear the sound of my tent zipping and his warmth leaving my body.
I groan in response, hoping he’s still here, watching, waiting. But there’s nothing. Just silence.
The slow thumps of Hallow Lands beat like a heart, bringing me closer to the edge of sleep, until I’m falling.
Chapter 24
The Doctor
Istay outside her tent until I can hear her soft snores floating around me. Once I’m certain she’s asleep, I head back to my tent.
The night has been exhausting, filled with blood and confessions. Not spoken, but shown. She stayed with me all night, not once leaving my side.
She didn’t question me, didn’t push for reasoning, just followed me right into my depths of hell. An angel of death, taking her rightful place.
It makes my heart grow bigger, watching her come into herself. She didn’t hesitate to cure that patient, didn’t even flinch when the body dropped to her feet. Almost like she was made for it.
I spoke again.
I needed her to hear my voice, needed her to know that my offer is serious and not something to take lightly.
I arrive at my tent quickly, not wanting to waste a single moment of preparation. My glitter-soaked assistant, Mortella, is there as always. She’s lingering outside with one of the masked performers, this one is wearing a deer skull with hollowed eyes. They’re practically fucking outside the tent, putting on a show for any innocent passersby.
He has her shoved against the tent, hand under her skirt as he works her like a puppet. It’s a sight to see, but I require her assistance right now.
“Mortella!” I bark. She scrambles, pushing the man off of her.
“S-Sir, oh my Gods,” she straightens her skirt as her cheeks turn a deep crimson red. She shoos the man off, turning to me.
“What can I do for you?” She questions, knowing I have something up my sleeve. I motion for her to follow me inside the tent.
Time to set up her offering.
Her Hollow Rite.
Chapter 25
The Doctor
Mortella and I worked through the night, ensuring everything was flawless. Hundreds of candles line the stage, creating an eerie glow as they melt away. Sigils hang from the roof, providing security and power.
The audience has filed in, surrounding the stage, waiting for their sunset spectacle. I smile to myself, hoping that she’ll actually show.
You’re a fool. She’ll never love you.
The words cut through me, sharp like a knife. They make me bleed in places I didn’t know I could. Every time the voice enters my brain. It’s a parasite leeching off of my happiness, never allowing me to just be.
