Across Acheron

Session 10

I didn’t expect to smell pancakes the next time I opened my eyes.

I was in my own bed, under my own covers, with my head resting on my own pillow like I had never left. Keenan occupied the space beside me, a plate of pancakes resting on his lap as he stared at them awkwardly. It almost felt like a reverie, like those moments when you dream of something wonderful only to wake up back in hell.

Keenan was hell. He just had a way of disguising it at times.

His eyes shifted over to me when I moved. He set the pancakes down on the night table before saying, “You can eat when you’re ready. I just assumed that you would like breakfast in bed or something.”

I would’ve run the hell out of there if I could’ve. He would’ve caught me easily if I tried. Keenan watched me with cautious eyes, daring me to make a single move out of that bed. When I shifted, his eyes narrowed. I dare you to try, he told me indirectly. I won’t hold back if you do.

So I didn’t. I settled into the pillow, feeling the back of my head as I did. I nearly laughed despite the situation at hand. The bastard had bandaged me up nicely as if he wasn’t the one who hit me. He tucked me in bed and even made goddamn pancakes. He was acting like he never did anything wrong; like he could pass off for the Pope or something. It made me sick.

I know that you’re probably cursing me for not doing anything. I mean, there were a lot of things I could have done, really. But put yourself in my place for a moment. Watch as the colours of your spectrum fade to grey. Wear my mind for a moment and look me in the eye; tell me that you wouldn’t have obeyed every single word he said.

That’s right. Nobody in this goddamn facility can fix me, not after what I’ve seen. I’m more aware than ever that I might never be sane again. I guess the only reason I’m telling you all this crap is to make myself feel lighter. I told you I was selfish. Some days I hate myself for it, but we can save that for another time.

Anyway, once I settled back into the pillow, Keenan finally relaxed. He rested his back against the headboard, letting out a deep sigh as if he had things to worry about.

“How are you feeling?” he asked me. “Does your head hurt?”

“I had the wildest dream...” I’m still not sure why I said that, but I didn’t stop. “I dreamt that you weren’t human—something called the Death King—and you took me to this snake lady who said I died once.”

“Jack—”

“It seems absurd, right? It can’t possibly be real. Right?”

Keenan didn’t seem concerned at all, and it sort of pissed me off. I didn’t know what I was expecting, to be honest. Even if I did, I’d be too embarrassed to tell you. “You know yourself that it wasn’t a dream, Jack,” he told me. “You would’ve found out about it soon enough, anyway.”

“Stop fucking with me!” I snapped. “Is this some kind of sick joke? That thing...it’s just old tales to get kids to be good. Is that what you’re claiming to be? Foolish stories from old folk?”

Keenan flinched at my harsh tone, but he nodded anyway.

 “And what that woman said...that’s all true too? I...died?”

He rolled his eyes at me. “You’re alive now. Doesn’t that count for something?”

I let out a cold, short laugh. I didn’t even know where the hell that came from, but I let it through anyway. It’s scary how things can make you turn into someone else, isn’t it? I dealt with that more than anyone ever should.