Dream Eater (m|m)

Chapter 24

Dante helps me to my feet. Then they hold me by the shoulders and search my eyes.

"Are you sure you're okay, little bird?"

I nod.

They haul me into their arms and hug me so tight it hurts. "Oh, Alex--we were so worried. Damien was ready to tear Hell apart on his own."

"How long have I been gone?" I ask after Dante lets me go and I can breathe again.

"I don't know for sure--you know time's relative and shit--but it's been a week in Carnâk."

"A week?" I squeak. Surely I couldn't have been in that cell that long.

"Like I said, time's relative," Dante says, laying their hands gently on my face and forcing me to meet their eyes. "Alex. Concentrate. We gotta get the fuck outta here. You understand?"

I nod again. "Sure thing. Just lead the way, Cap'n."

Dante smiles, and the stretch of their dark lips and the sparkle in their eyes gives me more hope than I've had in a long time.

They take my hand and drag me out into the larger room. I see two guards slumped against the wall beside the door. One has dark skin, one light, and both are completely naked.

"It must've been a beast getting them out of these clothes," I say.

"Nah. They took them off before I knocked them out."

"What? Why?"

"Sex-demon charm, honey."

I pull at the crotch of my guard's uniform.

"Gross, Dante. Couldn't you have warned me?" I ask.

"Would you have put it on if I had?"

Fair point. "Still." I stare down at the naked guards, imagining all the Hellish STDs that might be crawling around near my junk at this very moment.

Dante snaps me out of it with a yank on my arm.

"Come on, fool. We got no damn time!"

Dante pulls me along by the hand, out into the corridor and down several flights of stairs. My heart's in my mouth the whole time, and I'm convinced that an alarm is going to go off at any second, or we'll run into a patrol of guards or something, but the hallways are all silent and empty.

Dante stops at the corner of a long hall and pulls out a crudely drawn map. I'm a little alarmed when they spend a few seconds looking at it before turning it the other way round.

"Are you sure you know where we're going?" I ask.

"Better than you do. It's just that the stupid demon who drew this thing could barely hold a crayon. You should see what passes for art down there."

They set off again at a jog, and I force myself to keep up.

I've experienced enough 'can't get out of this place' nightmares to recognize the feeling as we run through endless corridors and descend innumerable twisting stairways.

Eventually, it occurs to me that it's weird we haven't run into anyone else.

"This is...too easy," I gasp. "I mean...where is...everyone?"

"Probably busy with the distraction."

They've barely finished speaking when the sound of screams and shouts reach our ears.

"Is that the distraction?" I ask, glad that it at least seems to be coming from behind us.

"No," Dante says. "That's people getting eaten by the distraction."