EXECUTIONER. the boys

chapter two. nightmares

chapter two ── nightmares.
"I'm tired of bullshitting."

She was running.

The Abyss stretched before her, a twisted maze of neon lights and distorted faces. The laughter echoed, growing louder with each step, taunting her, chasing her deeper into the shadows.  Her chest tightened, her lungs burning, but no matter how fast she ran, she couldn't escape the creeping darkness that swallowed everything in its path. The walls drew in closer, beginning to drip thick, red blood, oozing down, slow and deliberate, like a predator savouring its prey. The farther she ran, the closer the walls closed, suffocating her.

She couldn't escape feeling him—watching her. His eyes. Cold and merciless. She didn't have to turn around to know who they belonged to. She could feel his presence all over her skin, the same way it had before. Her stomach turned, acid rising to her throat. The memories lurched forward, crashing into her like a wave. She was back there. In that room, hands reaching out for her, a voice murmuring promises and threats at once. Her heart pounded in her chest, her breath hitched, but her legs wouldn't stop moving. She couldn't stop.

Keep running.

But her feet were sinking now, the ground beneath her dissolving into thick, black tar that clung to her skin, dragging her down. She thrashed, her arms flailing wildly, desperate for any hold. The walls around her oozed blood, slow and deliberate, while the faces twisted into grotesque masks of ecstasy. Laughter echoed, growing louder, sharper until it was deafening. And those cold, merciless eyes bored into her, piercing her soul as if they could see right through her.

She was trapped. They had her.

The floor finally disappeared, and she fell, screaming into the dark.

Wake up!

Eve's fist shot out, swinging wildly before her mind registered where she was. The dream clung to her, its claws deep in her psyche. Her knuckles connected with Axel's arm. He grunted, but he didn't flinch. Instead, he grabbed her wrist, firm but careful, his voice calm even though she was throwing punches.

"Eve, it's me," he said, his voice low and steady.

But she wasn't there yet. Her eyes were wide, her chest heaving as she attempted to punch again, a blind instinct for survival overwhelming everything else. The walls were still shifting, the nightmare bleeding into reality, and she couldn't tell if she was awake or still drowning in that godforsaken place. Axel's grip tightened around her, pulling her close as she fought against him.

"Angel, please, it's me," he repeated, his words breaking through her haze, grounding her. His hand rested on her head, pulling her against his chest. "You're safe, you're here. Breathe."

Her body stiffened, every muscle coiled, ready to snap. Her mind was still scrambling to make sense of it all. She couldn't tell but still heard the voices echoing in her head. Acid rose in her throat again, and for a second, she thought she might throw up.

Axel's hands rubbed her back, slow and comforting. "I've got you. You're okay."

She wanted to scream, to shove him away, to just run. The room was suffocating, the air too thick, pressing against her skin like a weight she couldn't shake off. Axel's hands, still warm and steady, rested lightly on her back, but she couldn't feel it anymore. Not really. His attempts to comfort her barely touched the chaos swirling inside her.

She blinked, her vision finally clearing just enough to see the room around her—the dim light filtering through the blinds, the familiar scent of Axel's apartment and the feel of his heartbeat against her ear.