Page 3

Two

Sebastian

A s if I would ever stop giving her the pleasure she needs.

I straddle her legs and slide into her from behind. Tight wetness grips me in the vise I’ve been given for all of eternity.

There is nowhere else I’d rather be. My dreams came true the day I ate the bullet. Her soft sounds centre me at this moment.

I entangle my fingers in her jet-black hair and tilt her head back to meet my gaze.

Her eyes fill with a mix of lust and longing, and I respond by slipping my hand beneath her, twisting her nipple to intensify the pleasure coursing through us.

“Come for me,” I growl.

Her muscles tense, and she milks my cock until a strangled cry erupts from her throat. My fingers raise to her neck, and I thrust into her.

The tremors of her ecstasy squeeze me tight, my skin tingling with the heat of her body. Scrambling into a kneeling position and grabbing her hips, I slam into her once more and fill her with my release.

I remain inside, embracing her and pulling her close to me. With her in my arms, everything is okay, if only for a few minutes, before we have to face the world we live in now.

The pain hasn’t left her. It never does. She thinks I don’t know how much she wants the realm to be real, but I’d be an idiot not to see it.

My dove needs those who loved her just as deeply as I need her. I would give up anything so that she could live a life with peace.

“Is everything okay?” Marla asks me. “You’ve been distant.”

I kiss her shoulder and nuzzle into her. “How, my dove? I’m always with you.”

The last thing I want is for her to think I’m pulling away when I’ve only been doing my best to save her. My dick throbs inside her, and she nudges me. A light giggle leaves her.

“I’m not sure. Just a feeling, I guess.” She lets out a sigh. “We should get dressed. We have to do the walk-around.”

“I hate the walks. We shouldn’t have to welcome new people.” I kiss her neck as I ease out of her. Marla grabs for her clothes as I struggle with my jeans.

“Who else will do it?” As she combs her tresses with her fingers, she reaches for a particular sweater, one we stumbled upon while exploring Cavum Terra.

When Marla first came here, she could get answers from the three Lords, but they’ve been reclusive and happy to let her take the initiative with new people since.

I think she does a better job, but I still worry about her. Each new group of new souls puts her in a low state and I can’t pull her out of it. One day, I fear I’m going to lose her within her own mind.

“If you say so, my dove.” I exhale and run my hand through my hair before putting my baseball cap back on. “No one was there for you. People couldn’t care less here. The Lords, or whatever the fuck they are, don’t care.”

She glares at me, crossing her arms over her chest before stalking off into the open spaces that hold all her demons.

I’ve been battling mine, but he’s an angry old bitch who’s easier to play with. I thought once I settled in, I would be given a demon worth my time, but compared to life, this seems like a cakewalk.

“Marla, wait!” I shout at her. As I jog to where she is, our hands interlock, and a sense of security washes over me. “I’ve told you not to go out on your own.”

Each day fills me with rage. Her demons rip her to shreds at every chance, but there’s not much I can do without being able to see them. I’m filled with bitter sorrow, knowing I can’t face them in battle.

We continue through the realm. The sky is a dark red and orange blend, and it’s always an eerie feeling when fresh bodies drop in. Terror is felt in ripples, and anguish from the new souls angers our own shadow demons.

“There’s been a rise in people,” she whispers.

“Earth was pretty shitty when we were there, and I suspect it hasn’t gotten any better.” I squeeze her hand.

She hoped that over time mental-health services would improve on the other side, but the reality is the government doesn’t give a shit about the people and never will.

With the higher-ups tracking the general population, they determine if someone is going to make a difference in society or if they should be put down. Those souls linger somewhere else though.

The heavy cloak of taking your own life burns through the ropes of meager support and it’s been our option.

Since the mental-health epidemic on Earth, the health services took a backseat when they couldn’t keep up with everyone. Life is hard enough when you can cope. It’s impossible when the demons in your mind take up residence and drag you to the edge.

Walking through the broken chunks of grass, the trails grow over quickly like strolling around would be a crime. Everything here is an uphill battle, nature attacks us almost as much as the demons.

As we cross one of the many bridges, we find a trio looking in all directions with their mouths agape.

“What the fuck is this place? Why am I here?” a tall blonde asks, and the dark-haired man behind her shakes as his hands snake around her waist.

With narrowed eyes, the girl scans the area, every rustle and snap making her more alert.

“Last thing you remember?” Marla asks.

She’s at least always straight to the point. This isn’t the place for warm embraces and gentle whispers. Everyone thus far has not responded to a sweet welcome, although in the early years of being here, we tried that approach.

Tears build in the eyes of all three, and the mohawk girl falls to her knees.

“Right, well, this is Cavum Terra. You killed yourself and you’ll be here for the rest of eternity.”

The sounds of their weeping fill the air, a chorus of despair as Marla presses close, seeking comfort. I sigh, the sound barely audible. I try to comfort her as I place my arm around her shoulders.

“Whatever mental illness plagued you on Earth will now manifest as a physical shadow demon and you will have to fight it off. Be skeptical of everything you hear. They like to play games.”

“What do we do?” asks the dark-haired man.

“Form friendships. Stick together and run like hell,” Marla whispers. She offers them a sympathetic smile, and we lower our heads before walking away.

“You sure don’t sugarcoat it, my dove.” I glance back toward the three souls who didn’t scatter, only to see the one with the mohawk wrapping her arms around herself.

“Why would I? Nothing about this place is joke-worthy.”

I grip her hand, and we walk past the cabins of the Lords, or Gods. They’ve never given us any information on what they are.

Jerking her away from the large crowd forming of new spawns Marla glares at me, but I tilt my head to the one girl standing solo. With a deep sigh, she bears a sweet smile and lets go of my hand. We shuffle over to her, and fearful eyes stare at us like we’re the enemy.

“Come on, you can help us with the next batch,” Marla tells her before turning to walk toward the bustle of people in the large field.

I slow to fall in step with the new girl. “What’s your name?”

She pulls down her black-and-white striped long-sleeve and walks beside me. “Chloe, I’m sorry if I seem any kind of way. This is all a lot.”

“Don’t be sorry. Life is hard, and it doesn’t get better here.” I give her a tight smile and glance around for anyone else.

As much as I hate the walks and the way Marla has pushed me to be this way, we share an unspoken bond, a silent promise that no one gets left behind. When someone can’t handle the information, we pull them into our little world and help them until they are strong enough to branch out on their own.

Marla has done all of this while her demons play her trauma like a matinee. I’m proud of her, though I fear she may never grasp the extent of her achievements. However, I have the rest of eternity to prove it to her.

“Calm down, I know it seems futile, but I need everyone to shut up for a minute. Please.” Marla’s voice shouts at the crowd and I grab Chloe’s wrist before we jog to stand behind her.

“If you want information on why you are here and what to do next, I suggest you listen,” I tell them.

Wide-eyed, dishevelled individuals stare back at us, some already gazing around. Heart-wrenching sobs fill the area. A few have dropped to their knees and others are storming toward us.

The crowd recoils as a tall man barrels forward, his voice a raw, ragged snarl. "Are we in Hell? What the fuck is happening?" His words punch through the murmurs of the crowd, sharp and desperate.

Sweat glistens on his flushed skin, his muscles taut like wires about to snap.

Every step he takes is heavy, deliberate—his boots scuff against the ground as if he’s fighting the earth itself.

His wild gaze darts between faces, searching for answers.

The people nearest him shrink back, some muttering excuses, others frozen in fear.

A woman stammers, "I—I don’t know—"

The man cuts her off with a sharp jerk of his hand. "Bullshit!" he roars, spit flying. "You see this? You see what’s out there? And you’re just standing here?"

His chest heaves, fists trembling at his sides. The air reeks of sweat and panic. He’s not just angry—he’s terrified. And a terrified man with nothing left to lose is the most dangerous kind.

I step in front of Marla to block the man's progress, then raise my hand to warn him. Marla’s gentle touch on my shoulder grounds me. The man slows his stride and I move beside Marla.

She clears her throat. “This is Cavum Terra. You’re here because you took your own life.

It’s now about surviving your mental illnesses on the outside, because they are going to play with you.

Rapid healing is in place, but you will bleed, beg, and plead to die.

Nothing can solve it. My best recommendation is to form groups.

Make friends and become a community. Run and fight and take care of each other. ” Marla bows her head.

“I don’t deserve to be here. Suffering on Earth was enough!” a tiny shout raises from the back of the crowd. A woman with dark hair steps forward, wringing her hands.

“You can’t just leave us here. What are we supposed to do?” A man in a business suit steps forward and grabs Marla’s arm.

I dart between them, the scent of his cologne sharp in the air, and pull his hand away.

“All of you can become a group, or branch off into smaller ones. I know you’re angry,” I tell him and squeeze his shoulder.

“Will we die again?” the tall man asks, his face flushed, his fists uncurling.

“No, you’re able to heal from any damage. You don’t have to worry about bathing, eating or hydration. Small gifts, I guess. Take care of each other out there. No one should have to fight alone.” Marla grimaces before turning to grasp my hand.

“What the hell is that giant shadow?” The woman, her hands twisting in anguish, points a trembling finger toward the barren field.

I wish the Lords would do their fucking job here.

“Whatever mental illness you suffered from topside will now be here to fight you in person. Don’t listen to all the voices you hear, and don’t become attached to anything tangible because they’ll rip it away," I say.

“I see the strength in each of you,” Marla tells them. “I know it’s scary, trust me, I do. But you can do this. I believe in all of you.” Her voice is strained but encouraging as she glances over her slumped shoulder.

“Let’s go home my dove,” I tell her, and she leans against me, exhausted.

We walk at a slow pace. I help both of them as they trip over the buckled grass and watch for any sign of demons coming to taunt them, but it’s almost serene instead.

The old bitch I have sits in my peripheral vision. His burning skin is a deceptive mask for the frailty within, and I yearn for a more challenging opponent.

As we reach the tunnel, I move the branches to let the women in first. Marla talks to Chloe, and I case the rest of the stony encampment. No one has been here, and I’m surprised we’ve kept this home for as long as we have.