The Mortal Instruments: City of Past Ghosts (Book 1)

Chapter 9: Nightmares

Chapter 9: Nightmares

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It was dark, dark and cold all around Clary.

She was buried so deep...too deep. She tried to find her way back to the surface but something pressed against her mind, preventing her from doing so. There was a flash of pain in her mind, torturing her.

A swirl of images that burned her mind appeared. She could feel herself screaming but whether it was mental or not, she didn't know.

Another replaying of images that acted as night terrors started again.

*****

The dagger slowly entered Clary's stomach once again and she screamed in pain, hot tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Clarissa," the fair haired boy hissed, pressing his lips to hers, silencing and swallowing her agonized screams. Her lips stayed taut and clamped shut—they could've been cemented together for all it did for him. But he didn't give up

Clary kicked her legs out forcefully, pushing him away.

He staggered back, the dagger which was slick with her blood pulled out of Clary's stomach painfully. She caught the initials SWH on the blade but she couldn't remember why it sounded so familiar.

Blood streamed out of the multiple stab wounds, dripping sickly onto the floor. And yet, somehow, she couldn't die.

She had cried for mercy once—for the mercy of death. She had stood her ground but that time it had hurt bad—so badly. But he had laughed, kissing her and telling her "Pain strengthens us, Clarissa. Remember what father had taught us?"

Clary glared balefully at him, her undiluted and fatal loathing and disgust for him the only things that kept her strong.

He only laughed, running a hand through his white hair. "Come now, sister. Don't look at me like that. That's not how you look at someone whom you love, do you now?" he purred, crouching to look at Clary in the eye.

Clary gathered the salty blood and spit in her mouth and spit on his black leather shoes. Black Shadowhunter shoes.

"You disgrace the uniform and the Marks, demon." Clary hissed, glaring at him with so much hatred the concentration could melt glass

A look of fury crossed his fine boned features before his face enveloped into a mask of amusement and confidence. "I don't care Clarrisa." he crooned, pushing the wild lock of hair that fell into Clary's eyes back. Clary flinched at the contact of his vile, cold skin against her hot one. He continued, "And neither should you. You are my sister...a Morgenstern. We were meant to rule together...love each other." he hissed and Clary suddenly felt nauseous at his words. It made her feel like wretching and maybe jumping off a building.

"I only will and ever love one person and sadly for you, it's not you." Clary spit, every uncomfortable movement tied to this chair sending stab after stab of pain into her wounded abdomen. She bit her bottom lip, biting back a whimper. Her hands were curled into tight fist, her nails biting deep into the skin, leaving red, bloody crescent marks on her palm. She fought against the two centimetres width demon ichor soaked ropes but it only burned her skin and bit into the flesh with each twist and yank.

He gripped the top of her hair, yanking her hear back forcefully. His black eyes burned with rage and loathing for him. The true holder of Clary's heart.