DoomPet

Chapter 22

A thousand tiny ropes suspended him in the air, each one glowing a brilliant iridescent red. Moans escaped his parched lips, echoing up into the darkness of the ceiling.

A fever had sunk its claws into him. Hallucinations jumped out at him.

Demons, monsters, and shiny red ropes.

He wasn't sure what they were. Any time he faltered or showed weakness dreams of those red ropes suspending him about a chasms so inky black he could barely see would come and haunt him. His reaction to the dream would always vary.

Sometimes paralysis would take over, he'd be stuck, suspended, eyes bulging out in silent rage.

Other times he fought and struggled, screaming in his sleep till his voice was hoarse and the sides of his face were covered in salt from dried tears.

This time, he was somewhere in between.

The marauder woke up to the man whimpering. He pulled him closer, feeling his dry, feverish skin. He leaned in close and pressed his lips to the man's ear, "You're gonna be ok. I'm gonna get up and get you some water. I'll be right back." He scooted off the bed and walked into the bathroom, guiding himself through the darkness with his hands.

He returned with a tiny paper cup with water and a wet washcloth, lying it across the man's neck. He whimpered loudly in response, waking up the little gargoyle.

The marauder shushed her, "Go back to bed, he's fine." He dipped a clawed finger into the cup, scooted up his helmet, and dripped the water onto the man's teeth.

Through a swarm of red ropes that threatened to drag him down into the darkness, a drop of water hit his lips. He lapped it up hungrily, desperately hoping for more. A drop hit his nose, then his forehead, then his tightly bound hands, more and more fell from the sky, or perhaps up from the ground. As it just occurred to him that he didn't even know what  way was up.

More and more fell, like rain, running in rivulets down his scarred, feverish body. A loud snapping noise on his left made him look up.

It was the red ropes. One of them had shattered like glass.

Then another...

Then another...

Soon he was soaking wet, ropes breaking on his left and right he could feel himself falling, lower and lower...

He cried out and thrashed around frantically, grabbing onto the final red rope. What would happen if he fell?

But he didn't, he opened his eyes to see he was lying on his bed, the red rope in his hand was actually the marauder hand, interwoven tightly with his own. He looked up, thankful at the kindness.

The marauder had his head turned like he was talking to someone by the door; then he paused and turned to the Slayer. He had Samuel's face, and head, and body, and his voice. "Are you here for... smoochies, dear Slayer?"

He let go and felt himself fall. He actually woke up thrashing around, kicking at covers, and grabbing at anything to stop himself from falling.

Daisy leapt off the bed and onto the headboard, letting out a surprised chirp.

He knocked the cup out of the marauder's hand, spilling it all over the floor. The demon patted his arm, "You're safe. Your fever is leaving."

The Slayer groaned and rolled over, grabbing his notebook off the nightstand, 'U better not be the robot.'

"What?"

He squinted his eyes through his helmet, judging the being in front of him. 'Fine you win.' Snuggling up by the demon, he hugged him.

The marauder scooted him onto his chest, laying down and hugging him close. "What did you dream about?"

Daisy scooted down and snuggled next to them, licking the Slayer's fingers.

He grumbled something, then wrote down in his notebook, 'Nightmare. I guess a fever dream from being thirsty.'

"We've just been full of issues recently." He chuckled and slowly ran his clawed fingers over the man's still warm skin.

He let out a soft little moan and tried to bury his head into the marauder's pecks. There had been so many injuries and illnesses and emotional exhaustion the Slayer just wanted to sleep forever. 'Tomorrow me and you should go after the Icon.'

"You're right." The demon kissed the top of his helmeted head. He hated the thought of the Slayer putting himself in harm's way but it would only be for one more time before they would be able to rest again.

It was bittersweet, just like the wine.

Hopefully it would have a better ending.