Some Quiet Place

don’t tell him!” he says through his teeth. Then he jerks and lets out another cry of pain. Blood spurts from a fresh wound in his gut, caused by an invisible weapon held by an unseen hand. I try to cover the gushing hole with my shaking fingers, shaking my head dumbly.
    “I-I don’t—”
    “Tell him!”
    Tears stream down my cheeks. “I don’t know!”
    Everything freezes. And then Fear is gone. One second he was on the floor, bleeding and dying, and the next Nightmare is standing in his place, looking down at me with an unfathomable glint in his eye.
    I recoil, landing on my bottom painfully. Nightmare sighs. “Let’s try this another way, shall we?” he asks blandly, straightening his shirt cuffs.
    My lip lifts in a snarl and I struggle to my feet so I can launch myself at him, claw his eyes out. But before I can, I lose myself in swirling, cackling shadows once again.
    “It’s simple. All I want to know is where your father is. Please, Elizabeth . For your own sake, tell me.”
    Another shock jerks through my body, and I cry out.
    The light bulb above us flickers some more. It hangs on a wire, which is nailed to a wooden ceiling. No rays of light burst through the cracks, leading me to believe it’s night. I can’t see much, because my vision is still blurred and it’s dark in here, but from what I can tell he’s brought me to some sort of shack in the woods. I can hear the trees rustling outside, smell the richness of the earth, barely feel the breeze slipping past. There are no animals, no Elements, no Emotions of any kind. None of them dare tangle with this creature.
    Which means no one will be coming to rescue me. I’m on my own.
    And this is the ultimate truth. Because here, I’ve realized, is where I’m going to die.
    Nightmare circles the table I’m lying on, sighing. “You’ll have to forgive the décor. My powers of persuasion seem to be lost on you.” When I still say nothing, he bends so his face is level with mine. His voice is kind as he adds, “You have to give up at some point, my dear. I’ve already won. You’re just prolonging your own pain.”
    Snot runs down my mouth, and I try to spit it out. It only clogs my throat, and I gag for a few moments. Nightmare’s expression twists into one of disgust. His pupils are slits, like a cat’s. “Give me your father’s location and I’ll let you go,” he says gently, brushing some of my hair out of my face with his sharp fingernails. He draws little pinpricks of blood. I can’t even move away from his touch.
    Nightmare toys with my earlobe, then, without warning, he digs his nails into the side of my head. I scream. He leans down and growls through his teeth, “Tell me where he is right now, or I swear I’ll put a knife into your stomach so many times that it’ll look like Swiss cheese.”
    His fingers dig even deeper into my skull, and I whimper. My fingers twitch a little—the closest to moving I can get.
    When still I don’t speak—I’ve already told him dozens of times I have no idea who he’s talking about, because he can’t possibly mean Tim—Nightmare straightens, pulling his fingers out. Tears slide down my cheeks, soundless rivers. He circles me some more, his footsteps thunder in the tiny space.
    “I don’t mean to be so vulgar. Come, now,” he coaxes. He’s playing nice again. “The fool can’t mean that much to you. Honestly, I watched your family all those years ago, waiting for him, and I never saw him once. Doesn’t seem like he cared, otherwise he would visit, wouldn’t he? Wouldn’t
he show up now to save you? Is he really worth dying for?” When I still don’t reply, he sighs. “Such a slippery fellow. Every time I waited at a birth, he didn’t make an appearance. The others know about me now, and this is getting harder.”
    I barely hear this last part. He knows something about me , I think. He knows who I was before the illusion . But I don’t have any answers for him, and I can’t utter a single question. So when I just shake my head, tears running out of the corners of my eyes, Nightmare smiles a little. His teeth glow in the darkness and his anger fills the tiny space. Slowly, his hand reaches for the light switch on the wall next to the door. I open my mouth—try to shout something, no, please, no , anything, but I can’t—and his finger lightly flips it, as if it’s the smallest thing in the world.
    Electricity sizzles through my body again, and I rock the table from