Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome could go fuck a brick in hell. Seriously.
How big was this place, anyway? She had run in one direction for a solid fifteen or twenty seconds and hadn’t hit a damn thing. She wasn’t fast, but this place also couldn’t be the size of a gym, either. When she straightened, she took a slow breath and finally felt her heart start to calm down. She took a step forward—and bashed her nose into something.
“Ow! God damnit—” How had she managed to stop inches short of running into a wall? She wasn’t that lucky.
The wall talked. “God?” A dark, twisted chuckle. “Where?”
She went rigid at the sound of the voice in the darkness. It wasn’t something she had walked into, it was someone. She froze. It was a man, and that was all she could tell from his voice in the darkness. “Uh—hello?”
He didn’t answer.
“Are you trapped in here, too? Do you know the way out?”
“The answer is yes to both of those things. But not in the way you’re asking, I’m afraid.” He laughed. It was more of a cackle, really. Vincent Price would have been proud. He sounded tall—the voice was coming from above her. And he also sounded…insane. There was a strange sharp-edged lilt to his words that paired along with a British accent.
“Can you help me get out of here?”
“And why would I want to do that?” Now there was danger in his voice. His tone dropped and became gravelly, sultry, and…no. Fear made the hair on her neck stand up. She was trapped in a dark place with a dangerous man she didn’t know.
No. No, this wasn’t happening.
Not again.
She took a step back from him.
She tried.
Suddenly, there was a wood wall at her back, and she hit it hard. It sounded hollow like plywood. But it couldn’t possibly be there—she hadn’t turned around. But she felt it, cutting off her path. She grunted at the impact.
“No running. Can’t have you hurting yourself, now, can we?”
She screamed and could only hope someone could hear her. She broke off as hands cradled her face, holding her between gloved palms. Their touch was warm and shockingly tender. But they still sparked a deep and intrinsic terror.
Whoever it was shushed her. “There, now…take a deep breath.”
Her hands flew to his wrists and tried to pull him away from her, but he didn’t budge. She might as well have been moving a statue. “Don’t touch me!”
“No, no, calm down. That’s not what I’m after. Easy, now. I just can’t have you running off again. Although that was fun to watch.” He chuckled. “Maybe we’ll do that again later. Nothing more entertaining than a good spot of terror!” Whoever he was, his tone was all over the map. One minute playful, the next, terrifying. “I have a question for you, darling…”
“Let me go—”
“Mmh, in a moment. I just want you to answer me something…”
“Please—Please don’t—”
“What would you trade for the pain to go away?”
Her protests broke off. “W—what?”
The hands tilted her head back, as if turning her to look up at him. Whoever the madman was, he was freaking tall. “I can feel it in you. This sickness. Waking up every day in miserable pain. It took your life away from you—all your happiness and your joy. Drinking away your passion and leaving you the sorrow of your broken life and broken body. Being told there’s no cure—being told to accept your new facts and move on. What would you trade—what would you give away—to make it never hurt again?”
How could he…who is he? Another mentalist trick? She couldn’t promise that enough clever web searches wouldn’t turn up the fact that she had a chronic illness. “I don’t know what kind of stupid game you people think you’re playing—”
“All the world’s a game, and all the men and women merely playthings, darling. Everything in life—in death—in creation itself is just a round of chess. There are winners, and there are losers, and there are pawns on the board. I’m giving you a chance to take yourself out of the game. Do you understand me?”
No, she really didn’t. “Let me go.”
“I can take it all away. All your pain. All your suffering. You can wake up tomorrow without any of it.”
She did her best to glare up at the darkness. It was clear he could see her, even if she couldn’t see him. “I’m going to kick you in the nuts so hard they’re going to get stuck in your throat if you don’t fucking let me go right now.”
He cackled. “That’s a good one! I love it.” His hands left her face, and she shoved him. She might as well have been shoving another wall. “Now, now. Don’t get feisty.”
She stormed into the darkness. She didn’t know where she was going.
“Other way, cupcake. Go left.”
She snarled in frustration. But she obediently followed his instructions. “Asshole.”
“Mmhm. I don’t like that one as much. Not nearly as clever. Think about my offer, Cora.”
“You want clever?” She turned in the darkness to face the voice. “Go fuck yourself with a pogo stick.”
“Much better! Now, go on and enjoy your night. Your friends are looking for you. Come back and see me if you want to make a deal.”
She whirled from the voice and…was standing at the exit. She was standing in the archway of a dark tunnel and staring at the carnival. She whirled to face the darkness again but could clearly see the black plywood walls that made up the space.
A space that hadn’t been there before.
She struggled to grasp what she was looking at. “What the fuck?”
“You dropped this.”
Cora screamed and jumped a foot in the air. Whipping around, she saw the sleazebag from the front counter—the one with the slicked-back hair and pencil mustache. He was leaning against the exit wall with one knee bent, his foot propped on the painted surface like he’d been waiting there all night. She could see the back side of the ticket booth and the turnstiles.
The corridor she had walked through couldn’t be anything deeper than ten feet. But that wasn’t possible.
None of it was possible.
The man was holding her phone out to her. She snatched it from him. The screen wasn’t cracked; that was some good news. “What the hell was that?”
“Exactly what I told you, toots.” He smiled. “Tell me something. What’s your favorite color?”
She opened her mouth to answer and stopped.
She didn’t know.
It was right there on the tip of her tongue. She knew it. She had to. She always had a favorite color—she had ever since she was a kid. Everybody had an answer to that question.
Didn’t they?
But suddenly…she had nothing.
Her eyes went wide with slow, creeping fear, as the man laughed. “See?” He walked away from her. “Kids these days. They never listen.”
She was shaking. She felt like she was sweating. She needed to sit down before she fainted. She walked—limped—to a bench and collapsed onto it, putting her head in her hands. What had just happened to her?
She had run through darkness in a straight line. There was no way the space was that big. There was no way she didn’t hit the walls. Were they moving things around on her? Rearranging the space? Why?