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

Chapter 19: Labyrinth

Chapter 19: Labyrinth

_____________

The first word that ran across her mind was Mum.

The second thing thing she thought was: I'm going to throw up.

Clary felt her gag reflex kick into action as the smell of rotting meat and burned metal drifted to her nose and shoved its way down her throat.

Blood was splattered across the floor and walls, chunks of meat stuck to the sticky crimson. In some places, they were smeared and there were claw marks on the cheap wallpaper. The room was like any regular private office: big table in the middle of the room and a comfortable office chair behind it.

The table was littered with pens, bloodied papers and more blood which could've been spilt red ink.

And in the chair, a half eaten body sat, staring at them with one eye and an open mouth. Well, it would've been an open mouth if the jaw had been attached to his face.

He had an eye missing and a the rest of his face was a bloody, raw red mess. His arms were suspiciously placed on the chair's armrests—and a hand missing all fingers. His shirt was ripped to shreds, revealing a sickening cavity in his chest, all his respiratory organs visible.

Before Clary allowed herself to see anymore, she spun around and out of the room, crumbling to the floor as she leaned against a wall, her breathing ragged.

Bloody images flashed in her mind like a replay: her mother's body, of the demon, of the blood and gore in her apartment. And unfamiliar ones of mutilated bodies and an army in red, all dead, their eyes staring sightlessly.

She clutched at her head, begging the images to stop before her heart did. She didn't care if she looked like a freaking mental with an episode right now. She just wanted them to stop.

The world around Clary disappeared as the images claimed her every sense. She couldn't breath—couldn't think.

Vaguely, she felt herself being shaken after what felt like an infinity later. Her eyes flew open,— she didn't remember ever closing her eyes—and stared into a warm gold.

Jace.

She saw his mouth shape words and she realized that the words had been her name.

Clary Clary Clary Clary...

Holding her lungs together, she forced them to accept the air and her sense of hearing returned.

"Clary?" Jace asked. She could hear the heart wrenching concern and fear in his voice and once again, she was confused.

Why did he care so much? Even Isabelle wasn't staring at her like she was dying, Clary thought.

Instead, Isabelle was glaring at Colette, her fists clenched as she said something, too soft Clary to hear. Colette shot back a retort with narrowed eyes.

She heard the end of Colette's sentence and she wanted to glare at the blond bitch but her brain at the moment was incapable in thinking straight.

"—sure she's just not having a brain hemorrhage of something? Her brain could be broken." Colette said, shrugging.

"French Fry, I swear on the Angel I'm going to slap you if you don't shut up." Isabelle hissed. Colette rolled her eyes before shifting them to Clary, shooting her killer glares.

"Clary. Are you okay?" Her attention turned to Jace again who was looking at her like she had been hit by a truck. She took a deep, shaky breath and slowly lowered her hands from her ears.