The House of Sorrows

Chapter 15: "Nightmares"

As Lockwood and the new man began their struggle, George and Holly dashed down the hallway, but Lucy hesitated, unwilling to leave Lockwood behind. After all, they were only there because these men had taken an interest in her talent. She watched as Lockwood struggled to fend off his opponent, panic rising as she realized she was in no condition to fight. Desperately, she did the only thing that came to mind—charging full force at the man and tackling him to the ground. The impact of his head smacking against the concrete echoed sharply off the walls.

Lockwood looked on, shocked, as did George and Holly, who turned to see what had caused the brutal thud. The man lay still, not moving. Lucy painfully rose to her feet, turned to give Lockwood an exasperated smile, and nearly collapsed again. Lockwood quickly caught her, supporting her as they moved down the hallway together.

"Thanks for that," he said with a wry smile. "You were my hero."

They hurried on as fast as they could, but suddenly, Lucy was grabbed from behind and slammed against the wall. The man she had tackled was back on his feet, gripping her by the throat. Her hands clawed desperately at his, but she couldn't pry him off. Her breath grew shallow, her vision blurred, and she felt the last traces of air leave her lungs as she struggled helplessly.

"Hey, you bastard!" Lockwood shouted, lunging at the man with the knife. He plunged it into the man's back, causing him to cry out in pain and release Lucy, who collapsed to the floor, gasping for air. Her throat burned, making it painful to draw in deep breaths.

"Come on!" Lockwood urged, pulling her to her feet. Together, they ran to the room on the other side of the hall, where George and Holly had already managed to pry open a window and started climbing out. They were on the first floor, so the drop wasn't far. One by one, they climbed through, Lockwood helping Lucy down last. Once outside, they squeezed through a small gap in a chain-link fence and ran down the street as quickly as they could.

The street was desolate, likely one of the older, abandoned neighborhoods in London, but they recognized the street names as they made their way farther from the building. Exhausted from two days without rest, constant fighting, and near-starvation, they pressed on, sticking to backstreets and stopping to rest when they needed.

After nearly an hour and a half, they spotted a night cab. The driver, seeing their battered state, recognized them as they approached.

"Damn. What happened to you lot?" he asked, ushering them into the cab. They started to explain, but the story was so chaotic that they soon gave up to avoid confusing him further. Instead, they asked to be dropped off at the hospital, where they could call Inspector Barnes to report what had happened. Thankfully, they had managed to retrieve the skull on their way out; it had been lying on a table in one of the rooms they passed, gesturing for them to hurry while making snide remarks about their escape efforts.

Once they arrived at the hospital, they were given two rooms—one for Lucy and Lockwood, and the other for George and Holly. They each received basic treatment and were bandaged up. Lucy's burns, cuts, and bruises were carefully tended to, and she was told she'd need to stay overnight, though only for two days this time rather than a week. Lockwood, having sprained his wrist during the fight, was fitted with a cast. Despite everything they had endured—being kidnapped, held captive, starved, and tortured—they were all going to be fine.

After relaying their story to Inspector Barnes, each of them collapsed into bed. Lucy, with the help of some morphine, slept like a rock.

Sometime in the early morning, Lucy was stirred by the sound of rustling sheets, heavy breathing, and faint mumbling. She sat up, her eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness. The noise was coming from Lockwood's bed. She stood and, bundled in a papery hospital gown and fuzzy socks, made her way over to him.

"Lockwood? Are you okay?" she asked softly, but there was no response.

He was fast asleep, clearly caught in the grips of a nightmare. His breathing grew ragged, and he mumbled again, though she couldn't make out his words. Leaning closer, she heard him more clearly.

"Lucy, no, no, no... you can't be dead, no!" His breath hitched, his chest rising and falling rapidly as the nightmare took hold. The realization washed over her: his nightmare was about her.