Through A Glass Darkly | Eddie Munson x Reader

Chapter 23

Consciousness hit you like a brick. You shook onto your back. An open book dug into your kidney. Your hands clenched into fists. You tried to breathe. Something was wrong. You couldn't consider the who or why as the feeling of static crawled up the tunnel of your spine.

The long silence stretched before you. It was a pit no one could climb from, a thicket no one could chop through. It was all thorns, no blooms.

That sonorous voice - Vecna - whispered to you as if to lure you. You closed your eyes. Another voice whispered over him. A voice so familiar and comforting - one you knew so well.

Hey, sweetheart, you gotta breathe.

You could follow those gentle directions. Air in brought an ease. Warmth spread across your hands and shoulders. Vecna couldn't touch you here, you reminded yourself.

You inhaled and exhaled for four counts each until everything was calm. The book still dug into your back. You maneuvered off the book and stared at the ceiling for a minute.

Eddie? you thought.

He didn't reply.

You blinked heavy eyelids.

Are you there?

You attempted tucking your cold toes in your pajama bottoms with little success. With a sigh, you hauled yourself to the head of the bed and curled under the blanket. Before you managed to switch off the bedside lamp, you fell asleep.

The morning started with repeated thumps on your bedroom door. You bolted upright, heartbeat revved. Only your father knocked like that.

"Yes?" you called.

The door whooshed open.

As if announcing a board-meeting, he said, "Breakfast in five."

"'Kay."

The automatic door closer fizzed the door shut.

You brushed the grit from your eyes and startled when you couldn't see your left hand. Then you remembered you'd taken part of Vecna's curse. You slumped before glancing at the clock.

It was half-past seven.

Groaning, you pushed the blanket away and got out of bed. You couldn't imagine why anyone would choose to be awake this early. Your parents shouldn't be awake. There was no way your father was going to work today. Not after last night.

And even if he were, he wouldn't need you in the kitchen.

Unless he did.

Unless he was going to question you about the fight with Jason Carver.

You didn't want to press charges or sue for damages or whatever else could be trumped up. Explaining anything to your father, and later the police, would have to be corroborated. They'd talk to Heather, who you hadn't seen at all yesterday and had no idea you'd used her as an alibi. Then came glossing over how you'd met Eddie's friends. You supposed they were your friends now as well.

You found the pressure patch with the strap in your purse and fastened it around your head.

Nothing could connect you to the Creel house or Jason's death, either. Except for Jason's crony who'd run after Erica. He'd been long gone by the time the fissure opened. You doubted he'd come forward, though. He'd be unable to justify going after a middle-schooler while Jason held a gun to your head.

A gun you had in your possession. Well, Mom had, but close enough. If she kept it secret, the bullet casings in the Creel attic would remain a mystery.