Unholy (Crazy Like You~Book 2)

Chapter 13

((This came out way longer than I first thought it would be but oh well. Finally some confrontation :) ))

~~~~~~~~Sean's POV~~~~~~~~~~

Silence hangs heavily through the air, even the thud of footsteps seemed to grow quieter, a mere whisper against the tense air. No one dares to speak as we march closer, I can almost physically feel the change in the air as we get within a few meters of where it would go down, of where we'd meet with him, or whatever's left of him at this point.

Any warmth had quickly been sapped from my skin, I almost question whether my heart continues to beat, I can't hear it anymore. It's all numb. I'm almost thankful for the desensitizing effect, it forces some kind of false calm over my thoughts. I know it's fake, I know it won't last, but I can't bring myself to move past it. Somehow the thought of facing off with the demon who'd essentially ruined my life seems less petrifying, I know that won't last long.

Even speaking to him in a dream, had me frozen, scared like a child. It's instinctive, I know that. Simple primal urges noticing danger and acting to defend. Doesn't make it any easier however, I can't help the twisting shame that follows every shudder, nor the humiliation after every shaken word.

Weak. Pathetic. Worthless.

It's the darkness, the cold, the stench that surrounds us. That's what I choose to blame on these thoughts, on this unease. It's easier than trying to face the truth, that maybe the small voice at the back of my mind is right. Maybe I am- .... I shut that thought down hard.

Ebbing at the corner of my mind is that numbness from moments prior, I grasp onto it like a security blanket, allowing the hum of nothing to consume these thoughts again. They remain, they always will, but the thick fog quiets them enough to be ignored.

With or without the blanket of desensitization, I find myself unafraid of being hurt, hell even killed. I can't bring myself to care.

Maybe a part of me knows Anti won't hurt me, he shouldn't anyhow. He'd made it very clear in the dream he didn't want to, but if it becomes necessary... Hell maybe I just don't care, maybe I'm just exhausted, maybe I'd welcome the embrace of eternal darkness, welcome the end of it all. Then again... Knowing both heaven and hell exist, and which one I've leaned more towards for a majority of my life, makes the thought a lot less comforting.

A sudden drop in the already below-zero temperature pulls me out of the state of fogginess I'd burrowed myself into. Instinctively I feel my numb hands move to cross over my chest, desperate to conserve some body-heat, though knowing it to be pointless.

The air grows thicker, and I find it impossible to breathe without full-on gasping in the oxygen. My lungs burn with each shaky breath however, and the darkness moves back to the corner of my mind, out of reach once more.

My eyes move hesitantly up the dark oak of the door lying just in front of the group, which I'd hardly noticed halting. The wood splinters in a few places, as though it had been slammed one too many times, copper handles sitting dead center of the two, rusted and unsteady. The dark wood shines in the little candle-light, the air humming with a power I only barely recognize.

Anti.

My brain supplies the name unhelpfully, and suddenly I'm not so sure anymore.

"-n"