Ch. 146

Ch. 146
I feel myself begin to flag as Perris’s eyes cloud with pain.
"You ran while she burned," hisses a female phantom, her lips nearly touching Perris's ear. "You heard her screams and still you ran."
Perris's face contorts in anguish. "I was a child!" he shouts, his voice breaking. "I couldn't save her!"
The accusation seems to cut deeper than their physical attacks, stealing Perris’s will to fight. He sags in their grip, and they drag him another step closer to the water's edge.
I circle desperately, trying to find an opening, and that's when I notice it—the water. With each movement of the phantoms, with each step they force Perris to take toward the swamp's edge, the murky surface ripples in perfect synchronization. Not the random, chaotic disturbances of a natural body of water, but deliberate, patterned responses to the phantoms' actions.
As if they're connected.
As if they're extensions of something else.
I freeze, my gaze darting between the water and the phantoms, watching how they move together in perfect, horrifying harmony. The mist curling around the scene no longer seems random but purposeful, tendrils reaching out from the swamp like sensory organs testing the air. I recall spotting something large, just out of sight, lurking beneath the water.
"They're herding us," I breathe, the realization crystallizing in my mind with terrible clarity.
The phantoms are puppets, manifestations created by something lurking beneath the surface. Something that uses fear and despair to disarm and paralyze its prey before feeding on its flesh. The wraiths, their job is to drive them toward the waiting jaws of the true predator.
I scan the water's surface more carefully now, and there, just beyond where they're dragging Perris, I catch a glimpse of something moving beneath the murk. Something large and sinuous, disturbing the water in subtle ripples that correspond exactly with the phantoms' movements.
"Perris!" I shout, backing away from the spectral vampires. "You have to stop listening! They’re trying to get you into the water!"
His head jerks up at my voice, red eyes focusing on me through the wall of phantoms between us. "What?" The word comes out slurred, as if he's fighting through a fog to understand.
"Look at the water!" I point frantically toward the ripples forming near the edge. "They're lures! They're going to feed you to whatever's in there!"
The child phantom hisses, its innocent face contorting into something monstrous as it realizes I've discovered the truth. The others increase their efforts, dragging Perris with renewed vigor as he begins to struggle again, my words breaking through the spell of guilt and despair they'd woven around him.
"Break free!" I shout. "The more you lean into the self-loathing, the stronger they become. They only have power if you believe their lies!"
Perris roars, a sound no human throat could produce, and tears one arm free from their grasp. But there are too many, their cold fingers digging into his flesh with implacable strength born of whatever ancient predator lurks beneath the swamp's surface.
I look from Perris to the water and back again, a desperate plan forming in my mind. If the phantoms are designed to drive prey toward their master, then perhaps I can redirect their attention. Make myself a more tempting target.
"I'm going to fix this!" I shout, my voice cracking. I back away from the struggling group, measuring the distance to the water's edge.
His eyes widen as he realizes what I'm planning. "Dezi, no—"
But I'm already running, sprinting not away from the water as every ounce of logic I have screams at me to do, but toward it. Toward the rippling surface where something waits, hungry and unnaturally patient.
"Hey!" I scream, waving my arms as I reach the edge of the swamp. "Over here, you ugly bastards! Fresh meat, right here!"
I stomp my feet at the water's edge, sending shockwaves of vibration through the murky surface. The phantoms tormenting Perris hesitate, their unified attention fracturing as they sense a new, more accessible prey offering itself willingly.
The water begins to churn, and I feel the weight of an ancient hunger turning toward me, invisible eyes assessing this unexpected development with cold, predatory calculation.
I've made myself the target. Now I just have to survive what comes next.
I position myself at the swamp's edge, my shoes sinking into the squelching mud as I stomp loudly. The vibrations travel through the muck and into the murky water, rippling outward in concentric circles that disturb the unnatural stillness of the surface. Cold sweat trickles down my spine as I wave my arms above my head, making myself as visible and tempting a target as possible. "That's right," I shout, my voice echoing strangely in the mist-filled air. "Fresh meat, right here! Come and get it, you slimy fuck!"
My heart hammers against my ribs with such force I fear it might crack a bone. Behind me, Perris continues to struggle against the phantoms, but their grip has loosened slightly. Their translucent heads turn toward me one by one, empty eye sockets burning with hunger that isn't their own.
"Look at me!" I stomp harder, feeling the mud splatter up my legs. "I'm right here, all unprotected and ready for dinner!" I risk a glance at Perris, whose red eyes have widened in horrified understanding. He renews his struggles with vampiric strength, managing to tear one arm free from the specter's grip. Good. They're weakening, their attention divided.
The swamp water pulses beneath my boots with my movements. Dark shapes slide beneath the surface—not just one, but many—converging toward where I stand.
"Come on, you ugly bastard," I mutter through clenched teeth, keeping my gaze fixed on the water while maintaining peripheral awareness of Perris's position. "Show yourself so I can figure out how to kill you."