46. Into Dessin’s Mind

46. Into Dessin’s Mind

Skylenna

I stop hearing Masten’s words, stop trying to make sense of his inhumane cruelty.

My eyes are fixated on Dessin. I watch his abdominal muscles coil tightly together, flexing and unflexing. He grinds his teeth with his eyes darting around under his closed lids.

Whatever you’re going through, you won’t go through it alone, Dessin.

My feet move to him like magnets, like a gravitational force pulling me in. Placing my hands over his clenched jaw, I allow the bizarre phenomenon happening in the void to swallow me like a collapsing ocean wave. And the fall is far more aggressive than I’ve experienced to date. It’s a riptide, so strong, so forceful, I have to hold my breath.

Fog, chilled winds, and darkness storm past me, through me, around me as I finally part the seas of the void’s strong borders. I stand upright in a room that strikes me with bad memory after bad memory.

Electroconvulsive therapy in the Emerald Lake Asylum.

My heart races in the doorway of the unventilated room, finding Dessin strapped down, practically levitating at the pulses of electricity zooming through his body. He’s in his white patient’s uniform, reminding me of our first meeting, the thirteenth room, my daily sessions with him that I so looked forward to.

As I take a step forward, I finally take note of who is operating the machine that’s torturing him.

“No…” I breathe.

Long, honey-golden hair streams down her navy-blue conformist’s dress. She fidgets with the remote excitedly, practically bouncing on her heels.

Three more steps, and I see her face.

Emerald eyes filled with poison and malice. Long, wispy eyelashes. High cheekbones.

Me.

I’m the one torturing him.

They’re conditioning him to associate me with pain, with hatred. The way he saw Meridei or Suseas. Absinthe or Albatross.

My stomach shrivels, and I find that I don’t want to fight the sudden (but welcome) downpour of rage feasting on my insides. Walking up to her, I snap her neck, quick with a loud crack, and the other Skylenna’s body is dumped to the floor. I flip off the machine and unstrap Dessin.

“It’s me, Dessin. The real me.” Running my hands through his hair, I kiss his cheek. “I’ve come for you. The way you’ve always shown up for me. I love you. I love you so much.”

His eyes slowly open and close, then open again. He focuses on my face, searching my eyes for answers. A look that says he recognizes me. An expression that softens my heart. His pupils turn the size of saucers at first, then shrink to tiny pinholes.

The thrust of his body into mine is so abruptly powerful, I can’t even scream as we’re thrown off the table, pelting through the air. My back slams into the tiled floor, knocking the wind from my lungs. I’m certain I’ve broken something after hearing a snap. But I can’t breathe, can’t scream, can’t beg him to see me clearly.

His eyes flare and shudder with an overpowering hatred for me. Fire and brimstone merge with a carnal need to hurt me.

I blink up at him in shock.

His hands clamp around my throat, fingers curling all the way to the back of my neck. He squeezes with every ounce of strength he has. Blood rushes to my face, building in pressure.

“D-Des,” I croak.

Oh, God. What have they done to you?

This is the void. I can change this. I can take us somewhere that will bring him good memories. With one hand, I reach up to his cheek, watching the moment his eyes shudder at my soft touch.

I’ll take you somewhere safe.

I close my eyes, and we tumble through the void, piercing a veil of the sunny sky in Ambrose Oasis. It’s a safe haven from everything he’s recently seen. The sweet aroma of lavender and wisteria.

“What the hell is this?” he growls under his breath, looking around at a setting of perfection. Our place away from the evil we’ve seen. Our home when we don’t have one.

“I’ve brought you to our special place. Do you remember it?” I ask, taking a step away from him in case he tries to choke me again.

Dessin remains perfectly still. “Yes.”

I sigh in relief. “Good.”

“But this is my place. Not yours. How did you learn of it?” His face is cold and unemotional. I have never seen him look at me like this.

I wrap my arms around my core to protect my heart from that horrible blow. But it does nothing to shield that sting his words have caused.

“Dessin, I think your memories of me have been altered.” I gulp just looking at the revulsion hardening his features. “What do you feel when you look at me?”

“Disgust,” he says evenly. There isn’t a moment of hesitation behind the thought. The look chills my skin.

I blow out a steadying breath.

“Would it make a difference if I told you that I’m deeply in love with you?” My tone. It’s pathetic. It’s weak. It’s heartbroken.

He nearly laughs. “I’d know you were lying. There isn’t a fiber in your body that could ever love anything.”

What have they done to you?!

“And what does Kane say about it?” I ask. Please. My Kane will see me through all of this, won’t he? He’s known me the longest. Loved me my whole life. He’ll know this isn’t real. He’ll remember me.

He looks down in thought. “He agrees with me.”

They’ve even gotten to his alters.

“It isn’t a lie. I’ve loved Kane since I was a little girl. I fell in love with you in the asylum, even before I had my memories returned to me. You are my soul mate, Dessin.” I wipe away a stray tear quickly, trying to keep myself together. But it’s near impossible. I won’t be able to survive it if he looks at me this way forever.

The air thickens with uncertainty, and there’s a terrible stillness about him.

“Stop lying,” he warns, taking a threatening step toward me.

A snarl rips through the space between us as DaiSzek takes a protective step in front of me. He lowers himself in a predatory stance, making it clear that he is willing to fight to stand up for me.

“What have you done to him?” Dessin asks in subtle horror.

“Nothing.” My voice cracks. “He knows the truth. That we’re family. He senses your desire to harm me again, and he’s showing you that he won’t let it happen.”

Dessin shakes his head.

DaiSzek and I take a step forward. “Can I show you what’s in my heart?”

“No.”

Another step.

“I’m warning you,” he grunts.

“I promise this is the only truth that exists.” Before he can react, I place a hand over his temple, sending a memory spiraling into the depths of the void, linking through his thoughts.

The night in the thirteenth room when he had me in his bed, on my back, and my legs around his hips. He kissed me and said, “I’ve never wanted anything more.”

Another memory scatters across his mind. When he burst through the door and found me in Albatross’s cage. The next memory of me sitting on his lap by the lagoon, the night we shared our traumas for the first time.

Something on the outside of the void pulls us from those memories, sending a tremor through this slice of heaven.

Dessin takes a vigilant step away from me. Confusion, uncertainty, and frustration that begs for him to decipher which reality is the truth.

“We can’t stay in here,” I breathe. “We’re in the Vexamen Prison. Our friends need our help.”

Dessin exhales slowly, looking at me like both an infectious rash and a soothing touch. Like I might laugh in his face at any moment and return to the cruel individual he knows me to be. He nods once.

“When this is over, you’ll know how much I love you. Because this time, it’s my turn to help you remember me.”