Page 54

Story: When Death Whispers

53

“We could burn it,” Hudson says for the third fucking time, glaring at the wall of hostile vegetation like it personally offended him. It offends me too, but that’s beside the point. “Plants burn, right? Basic biology.”

I shoot him a flat look, claws flexing irritably. “Yes, genius. And then the whole Evergloom—this living, breathing nightmare realm—goes up in flames. Along with Parker inside. Brilliant fucking plan.”

He sighs, frustration radiating off him in waves as he clenches his jaw. “Fine. Then we just… hack through it. Brute force.”

I raise a brow, extending one clawed finger and slicing neatly through a single vine. It splits easily, then immediately regrows—twice as thick and twice as sharp. The damned thing actually hisses at me.

“Fuck,” Hudson mutters, running a hand over his exhausted face.

“Exactly.” I give a humorless laugh. “Every time we attack, it feeds on our aggression and fear. In case you haven’t noticed, that’s kind of my whole brand, human.”

He scowls at me, but there’s no heat in it. He’s too drained. Too worried. The tension between us thickens, uncomfortable silence settling heavily over our shoulders as we stand staring at the tangled mass blocking our path.

“So what?” Hudson finally asks, sounding reluctantly defeated. “We just sit here until it… politely opens up and lets us through?”

I narrow my eyes, watching the vines closely. They pulse slightly, vibrating with subtle agitation, but they aren’t attacking—not yet. My instincts scream at me to rip them apart, to tear through and find Parker now. But even I can admit brute force isn’t working here. Not if it keeps feeding this damned thing.

“We try something different,” I grit out. “A softer method.”

Hudson’s eyebrows shoot up, clearly surprised. “You? Suggesting subtlety?”

“Shut up.” I roll my shoulders, the tension crackling down my spine. I don’t do patience. I don’t do subtlety. But Parker is on the other side of this tangled nightmare, and if I have to swallow my pride and cooperate with a mortal idiot, so be it.

“What do you suggest?” he asks cautiously.

“Calm,” I say, like the word burns on my tongue. “We move slowly, calmly—boring as hell. If aggression and fear strengthen it, maybe the opposite weakens it.”

Hudson looks skeptical. “You think that’ll actually work?”

I grit my teeth, stepping closer to the thorned barrier, deliberately forcing the agitation out of my posture. It goes against every instinct, every nerve screaming at me to lash out, but instead, I take a slow, steady breath.

The vines hesitate.

Not retreating, exactly—but not growing, either.

Hudson sees it too, eyes widening slightly. “Holy shit. You’re right.”

“Of course I am,” I mutter. “Now shut up and channel your inner houseplant.”

He snorts softly, clearly amused, but obeys—forcing himself to stand still beside me, his breaths growing steadier, quieter. The barrier shudders slightly, confused, uncertain.

We inch forward together, a careful, agonizingly slow step at a time. My claws itch, begging to tear through, but I hold myself in check. Hudson follows suit, every tense muscle in his body visibly straining under forced calm.

We inch forward, a step at a time. The vines recoil slightly, curling back—not in surrender, but in confusion. But it’s slow as hell, and patience has never been my virtue. I growl under my breath.

“Steady,” Hudson murmurs quietly. “Think happy thoughts.”

My lips twitch before I can stop them. “I swear if you start singing kumbaya, I’ll rip your throat out myself.”

He gives me a tired smirk. “Yeah, yeah. Calmly rip it out, right?”

Despite myself, my mouth twitches into something suspiciously like a smile.

With agonizing slowness, the vines finally begin to retreat, curling away from our forced calm, their aggression dimming. It’s working. Painfully, frustratingly—but it’s fucking working.

The path forward emerges gradually, revealing the massive tree at the center of the clearing, veins of pulsing pink power wrapping it like chains. Parker’s in there. Close enough to sense. Close enough to taste.

Hudson exhales heavily, shoulders slumping with relief. “Guess cooperation isn’t so bad after all, huh?”

I scoff, flexing my claws, relieved to feel the familiar aggression flow freely again. “Don’t get sentimental. We’re not friends.”

He shakes his head, stepping forward with renewed energy. “Whatever you say, nightmare .”

He uses the nickname those other two demons had for me, probably hoping it’s an insult, but joke’s on him. I actually am a nightmare demon. They were merely stating my purpose—a common practice among demons.

As we approach the towering tree ahead, the Evergloom trembles beneath our feet. I tense, readying myself, Hudson instantly alert beside me.

A pulse of pink light flares from the tree—blinding, radiant. Parker’s scream splits the air.

Calm officially abandoned, I snarl and lunge forward, Hudson right on my heels, patience forgotten as we rush headlong toward her cry.

Fuck subtlety—Parker needs us now.