Through A Glass Darkly | Eddie Munson x Reader

Chapter Ten

Hands wrenched you awake. Your chest pumped for air like you'd been drowning. You blinked as the dark room swam, then flashed red, gray, settling in the hazy orange from a streetlight. A human-shaped shadow loomed above you. You squeaked and tried to get away, palms skidding across unfamiliar sheets.

The shadow shushed you, voice mellow. "Whoa, hey, it's okay. It's okay. It's me."

It was Eddie.

You were in his bed. He'd picked you up from a convenience store. A spell had gone wrong. You'd been attacked and depleted.

Your attacker was still out there. No salt circle would protect you - or Eddie - or anybody - from it. You couldn't cast a proper circle now, anyway. You were useless.

"Sorry," you said, eyes stinging with tears.

"No, don't be."

He lay on his side next to you. His hand found yours under the blankets. You laced your fingers between his and focused on the ceiling.

You'd been in that red-lit hellscape again. Instead of a tiled room, a soundless expanse had surrounded you. Fractured pieces you almost recognized floated nearby. Pillars of vines pointed at a sunless sky. Black ichor gathered in puddles on the ragged ground. You'd spun and spun, finding no way out.

Then it had growled your name.

You'd run away, your shoulder banging into a pillar. Mist clogged your senses. You'd run into another pillar, which gave under the pressure to envelope your hands. It sucked one of your arms into it. Inside was warm and soggy. Thick liquid oozed around your fingers, hot like blood.

You'd twisted and yanked at your arm as it growled your name again.

"You shouldn't be here," it said.

You agreed. You shouldn't have been there.

A clock had gonged a few times, each knell echoing through the expanse.

Eddie had freed you by shaking you conscious.

What if someone else was pulled into that hellscape, though? What if it had been Eddie? What if he didn't have anyone to wake him? What if you weren't there?

The trailer's silence offered no peace from the thought. Silence was where your nightmare thrived. It wanted you silent. It wanted suffering.

"Could you turn on the radio or something?" you asked Eddie.

"Sure."

Eddie eased out of the blankets - a wisp of cool air sneaking underneath - and went to the boombox on the dresser. He messed with a few settings before the boombox crackled to life. The newest song from WASP whispered through the speakers.

"That good?" he asked as he approached the bed.

You nodded, then curled onto your side.

He got into bed, lay on his back, and closed his eyes. You recalled feeling his beautiful energy in Chicago, how he'd been a silver flame. Trying to feel him out now was like punching a bruise. You could touch him, but you couldn't sense that internal fire. You couldn't explain that to him, either. He'd never believe you.

You'd lost something only you knew existed.

Eddie's profile blurred. A heavy tear glided over the bridge of your nose and rolled across your cheek. Another followed, disappearing into the pillowcase.

You suppressed a ragged breath with fingers over your lips. Eddie must've felt the movement, because he turned his head towards you. His eyes widened before he gathered you to his side.