My Eros (Modern Cupid and Psyche Dirty)

I say goodbye to Ginny soon after that, and when I get back to the suite, I find Nia's note magnet-taped to our cute little refrigerator, telling me that she went out to take photos. I've actually only discovered that part of my roommate a few days ago, and it's something I find really cute. Nia the tough cookie...also happens to be hiding the heart of a sensitive artist. Who would've imagined, right?

I try to get more reading done, but my thoughts keep circling back to the man with red eyes.

Henry told me earlier that the security cameras in the club had been destroyed, most likely by the same man who's stabbed me. Henry also said having a BOLO issued against the man would help speed things up, but for that to happen—-

I need to remember more, but in order to do that—-

(Oh god)

Terror comes out of nowhere to strangle me, and I find myself suddenly struggling not to choke and panic.

(Oh god, help me)

I'm not sure how I got here.

I just know I'm trapped once again in a nightmare where my world is bouncing—-

Up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down.

This can't be real.

(But it is)

This can't be happening.

(But it is)

Invisible fingers of fear are still wrapped around my throat, and I feel them tightening the moment I realize the arms holding me have started to lift me up, up, up—-

(Oh god, no)

I don't want to see those eyes again.

(Help me, god, help me)

The urge to scream and cry burns inside of me, but because I know I might as well kill myself the moment I make a sound—-

(Please, god, please)

But it's too late.

There's no longer any reason to stay silent. He's already looking at me with his red, red eyes—-

Eyes that are windows to nothing—-

Because he's soulless.

I jump out of his arms, and my knee hits the edge of a stairstep.

The pain is vicious, and a choking gasp rattles out of my throat as I roll and tumble down the steps. I'm not sure how long or how far I've fallen.

All I know is that it's not long or far enough.

Because already I'm back in my cage, the man with red eyes catching up to me with such ease I'm almost tempted to believe there's no point of escaping. His wiry arms are now holding on to me more tightly than ever, and the moment the world starts bouncing again—-

Up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down.

(No, god, no)

I don't want to go back to that room where all those dead bodies are. I don't want to wake up in a pool of blood. Don't want to relive that one moment where I believe what everyone's saying about me, and I want to kill myself just like I've supposedly killed everyone else.

I squeeze my eyes shut, and memories come pouring in.

So many memories of his faceless presence—-

So many memories of the heat of his embrace and the warmth of his words—-

(I need you, god, please)

A strong, howling gust of wind blows into my unconscious like a tornado that rips my nightmare apart, and my lips part in a soundless gasp as the world stops bouncing—-

But instead of seeing those red eyes again, I feel myself starting to fall fast and hard.

Until it feels like my soul has crashed back down into my body.

I gasp as I wake up—-

I'm back in my chair. I'm back in my suite. But not everything's the same.

Because the wind I heard in my nightmare—-

It's here.

Howling the same way it did.

Making my windows explode into pieces the way it destroyed a bouncing world of shadows.

That wind which saved me from my nightmare—-

Has now taken the form of a beast with snow-white fur and eyes of gold and blue.

I stare at it in shock even as a memory drifts into my mind.

I remember asking Nia if it was possible for me to summon a god whose name I didn't know, and I also remember my roommate sharing with me the passage from an old, old book.

Cling to your memories as if they were its divine name, and your god shall hear your call.

Cling as hard as you can, and if the divine chooses to answer your summon—-

Know that this comes with a price, for from that point on your god shall also be your master.

The words didn't make sense the first time I read them.

But now they do.

And the words are as perfectly clear as the taut lines of strain etched on the leonine features of the beast. So perfectly clear that I can feel its grimness as the god's soundless voice penetrates my mind—-

What have you done?

Chapter Fifteen

My room suddenly feels claustrophobic. There's just something about the size of the god's bestial form, you see, just something about its larger-than-life presence that easily overwhelms the senses of an ordinary mortal like me.