Free Dark Sacrifice by Angie Sandro

deeply.
    When it reopens, I whimper. “Mala said you’re not real.”
    Her smile sends prickles across my bare skin.
    â€œDon’t fight us. We’re trying to help,” the guard’s voice comes from my left side, and I jump. I stop myself from turning away from the ghost in front of me. She can’t hurt me if I don’t take my eye off of her.
    No. That’s not right. Mala said ignore her.
    A heavy weight hits the underside of the mattress and lifts it an inch into the air. I grab on to the metal rail. High-pitched, chitter ing and snicki ng noises come from beneath the bed, then the sound of ripping. Vibrations from inside the mattress shake me.
    I lunge forward. “It’s coming!”
    Don’t they hear it? Feel it?
    The guard holds me down like a lamb for sacrificial slaughter. My blood’s going to stain these sheets. They’ll regret not listening. “Stop,” I beg the nurse, who holds padded restraints in her hands. “Don’t…don’t tie me up, please. Help me.”
    Sharp claws dig through the padding. The monster struggles to reach me. I told Mala about it, but I didn’t have time to fully explain what’s happening to me. If I had, would she have left me alone with it? Or would she have stayed to fight with me?
    Unless none of this is real. What if this is all in my head?
    Additional restraints tie me to the bed. They wrap around my legs and arms. Heavy, padded straps I can’t break. The heaviness in my chest changes, and my muscles relax. The drug the nurse injected into the IV drags me down.

CHAPTER 8
MALA
    Into the Wild
    B essie hustles me out of the room.
    â€œCall me when you get out,” I say over my shoulder. Landry watches me leave in silence. His expression shows he’s terrified but trying to be strong. Guilt wiggles inside, but I can’t stay. The real nurse and prison guard enter the room. They have a better chance of calming him down than I do. Still, each step drags. I’m abandoning him. What if the ghost attacks again? He can’t protect himself. He doesn’t know how to block the spirit’s entry. I’ve had months to practice building mental shields, and I’m still fooled.
    What I don’t get is how he can see ghosts in the first place. He’s always been sensitive to the spirit world, but I thought it was only because of his connection to Lainey. Did this happen because he died? Or is it that snake he said buried itself inside of him?
    Bessie tugs on my arm, and I follow her through the hospital without making a fuss. As we exit the sliding glass doors, I throw one last look over my shoulder and shudder. I hated hospitals before. Now I’d have to be unconscious and dying to come back. I lift my chin to the sky and let the warm, cleansing rain wash over my face. The air smells of earth, pure and crisp. No more bleach or blood. I’m free.
    Bessie covers her head with her hands. “Let’s go!”
    The impatience in her voice snaps me forward, and I hit almost every puddle during my dash through the rain to her car. Bessie has the door open by the time I catch up. I toss my duffel bag onto the floorboard, then slide onto the front seat next to her. I study her from the corner of my eye. The darkness in her expression sends a ripple of unease through me.
    I wipe my wet palms across damp jeans and ask, “Want to talk about why you’re upset?”
    â€œWhat did Landry do to make you scream like that?” Fury makes her voice vibrate. She slaps on the windshield wipers.
    Why does everything have to be a fight? “Nothing.”
    â€œSo you said.”
    â€œBecause it’s true. You and George are always so determined to see the worst in him.”
    â€œGeorge? What does he have to do with this?”
    â€œYou’re both always quick to blame Landry.”
    â€œAnd you’re always quick to defend him.” She glares out the window. Tension