2024 Story Collection

Succubus & Angel Soulmates II

The nurse led her down the never-ending white hallway. She'd always disliked hospitals. Now she found them downright creepy.

Lara glanced behind her, only to see a mirror image of what lay ahead. More endless hallways with no doors or windows, to break it up, only the bright lights overhead. The kind that made your teeth look yellow no matter how white they are.

She looked back, but the nurse was gone. She was left alone in the hallway. The lights seemed to get exponentially brighter. She felt panic rise within her, anxiety growing as she looked around. Her pulse deafening in her ears.

A cough erupted from her before she could put a handkerchief to her mouth. Flowers, soaked in blood, flew from her lips. She felt the thorns piercing her lungs. She coughed again, but this time it was more blood than petals and it wouldn't stop.

She fell to her knees, gagging. What had started as a small drops of blood became a steady stream. Blood pooled from her mouth. She felt like a fountain as she watched the crimson pool at her knees.

Flowers flowed out on top of the blood. Beautiful white roses that slowly sank into the blood that was no longer a puddle. It had covered the entire floor of the infinite hall.

Then from both ends of the hallway, the lights shattered until everything was pitch black. She felt the blood continue to flow and rise until it covered her completely.

She opened her eyes and had to blink to adjust to the lights. Once she could see, she looked down. She was tied to a chair, in a straight jacket in her doctor's office. Déjà vu hit her at his words, as if pulled verbatim from memory.

She blinked again, and she was standing, no restraints, at the window.

She knew she didn't have long. It was getting too bad, too fast.

The doctor entered the room and déjà vu hits again and at every blink she's in a different part of the room, his words bouncing around her skull making her head pound.

"You are progressing faster than usual," the fae doctor said. "You likely only have a month left."

She hears her own voice, and now she is the doctor, watching herself ask. "Why is it-I thought I had more time," she says.

"How did your soulmate reject you?" she-the doctor asks.

"He didn't. I rejected myself," she watches as she admits it. She looks so weak, so sick.

"I see," she feels the doctor purse his lips. "In cases like this, it is likely to be closer to the two weeks."

She watches as she falls to the ground, coughing. His words echo, getting louder every time. Two weeks. She looks up and blood is flowing from empty eye sockets, white roses bloom from her mouth.

She tries to scream but realizes that her mouth is all roses. She blinks, her eyes now gone. She feels blood stream from where they once were. She falls back, waiting to hit the ground, but doesn't.

As she continues to fall, she hears a familiar voice calling out to her.

Then she hits.

She sits up in shock, looking around before coughing up a mixture of water, blood, and petals. She glances over to the side. A pool? The pool, she drowned. She looks down in confusion, her memories coming back to her like a wave crashing over a rocky shore.

It was a dream?

Someone hugs her. They pull back. It's Isabella. Her best and only real friend.

"Are those petals?" she asks, hurt clear in her voice. "When-who rejected you?"

Through a scratchy voice Lara replies, "I'm sorry about the blood. Hopefully, it doesn't stain the swimsuit."

Isabella ignores her. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I didn't want to hurt you," she croaks, still trying to make sense of everything.

That dream felt so real.

"I'm sorry, I didn't-" Troy says from her right. His face dripping with worry and water. Had he dived in to save her? "I didn't realize you were being held down until after-I got you out as fast as I could-"

"We'll talk about this later," Lara says, trying to stand up. She struggles, but with the help of her strong werewolf friend and Troy, she manages to get to her feet. They help her over to a bench.

She feels like she can finally think again.

"Why don't you take those stupid heels off?" Isabella asks, annoyed.

"You know why," is all Lara says.

"Stubborn as ever," Troy jokes, and it actually makes her smile.

"I got her to smile," he says as if he just won an Olimpic metal. She rolls her eyes.

He smiles widely at her. She shakes her head at him.

He was like a brother to her, but in moments like this, she could understand why women liked him. He was handsome in a unique way, sharp, muscular and tall, but his proportions were slightly off. He reminded her of a daddy long leg. His limbs were far too long for his body. His face was hard and soft. He had round cheeks but a sharp jaw and browbone. His eyes were a piercing green.

He was a man-whore, but he was good to his friends and, for some reason, he considered her a friend. And for an even weirder reason, she thought of him the same way.

They set her down on the edge of one of those bench-chair things. It was shaded under an umbrella and right now, to Lara, it looked like a little piece of heaven.

She lays back under the umbrella and coughs again, more petals and worse, more blood. Her dream flashes through her mind and she flinches at the memory.

Troy looks at her, worried. She smiles to reassure them and tries to breathe.

Her chest feels so tight. Too tight.

Two weeks, my ass. She'd be lucky for two more days.

To be continued...

March 27, 2024