Death is My BFFLAD Rewritten (Book 2 of the Rewritten Death Chronicles)

Chapter 50: Shatterproof

CUPACAKES!!!!!!

I AM HERE WITH THE QUAREN-TEA!

PLEASE ENJOY THIS SMALL GIFT TO PASS THE TIME! 

MORE TO COME! STAY SAFE!! *DABS WITH SCYTHE*

XOXO

THE DEVIL

***

            I awoke with my back flat against cold ground, tears leaking from the corners of my eyes. I blinked into full alertness, the memory of how I'd gotten here, where wherever here was, sending me jolting upward.

Ahrimad had taken over Ace and knocked me unconscious.

Ugh. So not cool.

Shadows, and a small amount of light through metal bars, framed the small confined space. With barely enough room to stand, it felt like a large coffin with a jail gate on one side and bars separating me from another confined space beside mine.

Pure dread speared through me as I noticed another person laying between the barrier of metal bars. Edging closer confirmed the horrifying thought that it was indeed Ace. He was so still, his body face down and his head turned away from me. I crawled fast across the space, my body aching with every movement I made.

"Ace?" I whispered, poking his shoulder. I fought not to burst into tears. I pictured his wounds, his tattered clothing, my heart clenching. The thought crossed my mind that he was still Ahrimad, which made me hesitate to touch him again, but the thought that this was Ace and that he needed my help, overrode any other fear. I reached out and shook his shoulder harder. "Ace? Ace, wake up. Please, wake up."

He inhaled a horrible wheezed breath and coughed something out, blowing dust all over the space.

"Oh, thank god––"

"Cauchemar!" he cried. His breaths came out faster, his nails raking against the dirty marble beneath us. He was disorientated, writhing around, like he'd half-woken from a fever dream. "No... C'était un cauchemar... J'en ai marre!"

"Ace it's me, it's me," I said in a hush, consoling him by reaching through the bars between us and rubbing his back. "Everything is okay. You're okay. It's Faith."

Ace rose slowly onto his hands and knees with his head tilted down. "Ma chère," he croaked out. "Where...are we?"

"I don't know," I whispered, but wherever we were, it was so cold that goosebumps spread over my arms. In fact, the change in temperature reminded me of entering a basement. "I think we're underground," I said, when the idea came to me. "We must be underneath the mausoleum."

"You shouldn't have come." Ace dry heaved a few times. "I'm going to...sick." He crawled fast to the far corner of his prison to vomit.

"Ace?" I asked anxiously. "Ace, are you alright?"

He didn't answer as he vomited again. "I am absolutely amazing," he said lightheartedly and out of breath, dragging his body back toward me before slumping against the wall in exhaustion with his arm sprawled over his stomach. "Although, I could really use a power nap, and maybe an ice cream sundae."

"Ace..." I trailed off, incredibly concerned by his casual joking. "Ahrimad, he possessed your body––"

"Oh, I know. Hence the retching and the unbearable headache once he left." He angled his face toward mine and ran his fingers absently over his head. "Don't worry about me and my new military haircut. I'm fine."