Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 96404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
“I won’t.”
“Good…b-because…I won’t let you…”
“Sebastian?” I grab his face and shake him gently, but he’s out cold again.
This can’t go on.
After adjusting the wet T-shirt on his forehead, I jolt up and slowly walk to where I remember the door to be. My steps are careful as I take a stab in the dark.
I bump against a wall and place my hands on it, feeling my way.
Once I touch metal, I bang on the door with both fists. “Open up!! You said you wanted to play a game, so why aren’t you playing? Open up, you sick bastards!”
I keep on hitting and calling them names in both English and Japanese. When that doesn’t work, I pull, then push at the door, shouting, “If my dad finds out about this, he’ll kill you! I’ll make sure he fucking kills you!! Open the damn door!”
“Not yet, Ojou-sama.” The voice that comes from the other side of the door makes me stop in my tracks.
He’s speaking in Japanese, but why the hell does he sound so familiar? It’s not Ren or the other guy who was with him that day at our house.
This one is calmer, sounds more dangerous. As if he’s issuing death sentences to the undead.
Ojou-sama.
He called me princess in the most honorific term possible, and it’s not the first time.
Someone called me that before, but who? And when?
“Who are you?” I ask in Japanese.
“The one who will make you worthy of joining our family. In order to do that, you have to suffer a great loss.”
7
Akira
Dear Yuki-Onna,
You’re obviously getting two letters back to back, because the moment I sent the previous one, I sat down and wrote another.
Clingy much? Probably. But I blame you for that.
You’re the only person I can’t kick out of my conscious no matter how hard I try to. It’s that toxicity, I swear. You make it addictive in a strange type of way.
But that’s not why I’m writing again.
It’s your name.
Not Naomi, but Yuki-Onna. You know, I had a daydream just a while ago and in it, Yuki-Onna came through my window.
She was pale as the snow and just as cold. Her lips were like a red rosebud and her huge brown eyes held no light.
It was sad and intriguing at the same time.
You know when a disaster is happening but you realize there’s nothing you can do about it so you just stand there and watch?
That’s what I did with Yuki-Onna. I just remained still and observed her.
Even when she stretched out her ghostly hands and went for my fucking liver. Even when I felt the frost of her touch deep into my goddamn bones.
I only watched.
Do you know why? Because deep in my mind, she was you.
And somewhere in my head, you came for payback over all the shit I told you. I mean, is there a better cause of death than revenge?
There probably is. Just don’t tell me.
I didn’t die, obviously, it was all in my head, but when I came to, my heart was beating so fast I thought it’d stop. So I’m writing you this letter so you know I’m alive.
Not that you care.
Or maybe you do.
After all, you do love me in one way or another or you would’ve stopped talking to me by now.
I guess you’re that lonely to think of me as a friend, but then again, if you didn’t have me, there would be no one in your life to beat hard truths into your skull.
If you didn’t have me, you’d drown in your delusions so deep, you wouldn’t even realize when or how to stop.
Not that you do right now.
But at least you know my opinion of your life—that sucks, by the way—but then again, my own life sucks, too.
Isn’t that the beauty of it all, Naomi?
Both our lives suck but we’re still here anyway. We still go to the post office and send letters.
You still hold on to the hope that I’m the only friend you have and I still like to imagine you as my own Yuki-Onna.
Cold, beautiful, and will one day fucking kill me.
But here’s a secret. If you’ll be my cause of death, I don’t really mind it.
After all, don’t they say find something toxic and let it kill you?
Well, that’s not exactly the line, but in our case, it counts.
Be safe. Or not. As long as you reply.
And pray that I don’t have any other daydreams about Yuki-Onna or I will keep bugging you until you actually show up at my window.
And then I might never let you go.
Akira
8
Sebastian
I blacked out.
I must be slipping in and out of consciousness.
Blurred figures appear behind my lids, their gray silhouettes dancing in rhythm with my weak pulse.
Sounds follow. They’re hollow, distant, as if coming from an empty underground arena. The figures and the sounds are mixing together and drumming against my skull.