Okay…so this is what happened.
After Taste the Whip, I couldn’t remember anything. I had just woken up in Daniel’s room like nothing had happened. And Daniel acted like nothing had happened too, so I had thought that maybe nothing had happened. Like, maybe it was just a dream.
Of course, I knew better than that. But there was another part of me, a larger part, which persuaded me that to not know might be the safer option. Because what could be so bad that my mind had blocked it completely?
I had finished my shift at volunteering when I was approached. I knew it was him, even though I didn’t dare look at him. The room just became colder, as it always did when he entered.
“I would sit down if I were you,” he informed me.
“Because it would shock your patrons less if you fell asleep on a chair than if you fall asleep mid step,” he said smoothly.
Cautiously, I did as he said. “Make it quick, I’m needed elsewhere.”
He just laughed. And when I closed my eyes and reopened them, I was in the empty college. The same in The Rage of a Cat. “Any significant meaning to this?” I asked. “Do you want me to try and kill you again?”
“I’m not going to bother anymore,” he told me cheerfully. “I know what you are and I know what you can do.”
“Are you a coward?”
“No. It’s just that I hate dying as much as you do. Especially when one has to do it over and over again.”
I grimaced. “As if I had any choice.”
“You always do.”
Don’t look him in the eye, Daniel had always told me. Not if you want to start your slow, painful demise.
So I looked.
The left of his face was falling to pieces, the skin speckled with green mold. His blue hair was falling out and his teeth were nothing more than chipped pieces. His eyes…
Well, in his case, eye. Daniel was literal when he said that. It had no pupil, it was just a white ball rolling around in his head. Disgusting, isn’t it? a voice said merrily, and I realised his voice was now in my head.
As you wish. His broken mouth spread into a giant grin. “Impressed yet?”
My hands grew hot. “Is that why you brought me here? To show off?”
“I’m here to make an offer.”
Immediately I was wary. “An offer? And what would that entail?”
“How would you like to remember what happened?” he asked. “Would you like to know why everyone doesn’t mention it?”
“I can already guess,” I told him. “I did things I wasn’t proud of, and I’ve blocked them from my head. And everyone else has the decency not to bring it up.”
He scoffed. “And you’re fine with this.”
I thought of everything I have done, everyone whose lives I’ve ended, everything I’ve destroyed. “So you’re afraid then,” he concluded. “You don’t want to remember.”
“Exactly. I am unstable as it is. To bring up repressed memories now wouldn’t be the wisest option.” I glared at him. “I would like to go back.”
“This isn’t just about your memories, Cat Madigan,” he growled suddenly. “This is about everything you don’t know. So many secrets, so much hidden knowledge. This world has many things that you don’t know.”
“One example; Daniel.” He grinned as I flinched at the mention of him. “How much does he keep from you, Cat Madigan? This isn’t the first time he’s kept something from you, is it? And yet you trust him inexplicably.”
“Not inexplicably,” I objected.
He just smiled. “Liar,” he hissed. “Despite all these secrets, you continue to trust him. But what if he was the one you should actually fear?”
“He’s not,” I insisted.
“And how do you know that?”
“Because I am!” I growled. “I am the only person I am afraid of, and I am the one you should be fearing right now!” My hands were red hot, ready to fry him.
He just laughed. “I underestimate you, Miss Madigan,” he said to me.
I woke up immediately the words came out of his mouth. I was on the couch, and no one had noticed, so I got up and quickly left the soup kitchen.
School was just across the road, so I went across and met up with my friends. Things were good. Bad Dog was talking about her ex boyfriend (who, by the way, is an asshole, just to let you know, Bad Dog, AGAIN,) and how he said something along the lines of how talking to me was like talking to two different people, (though I’m pretty sure he’s only talked to me once).
Either way, it was weird. But it was a nice weird. The familiar weird which you don’t really care about.
Then I felt him again. “What do you want now?” I whispered.
“I’ve decided something,” he told me, his voice right next to my ear.
“And what is that?”
Something sharp pierced my neck. “You are the dangerous one.”
It was a needle.
Suddenly, I was in hell.