The Lost Boys // Nowhere Warm

17 🌹

A/N - I thought long and hard about how I was going to go around and word this, so much that I'm going to make another part .5 for this chapter in a few days. ❤❤❤

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Roxanne could hardly believe it.

Sprinting heavily with an equally heavy glance over her shoulder.

All she could see was black.

It was like she fell into nothing.

The whispers reassured her otherwise.

It was too dark to see anything.

The disembodied voices chasing her didn't ket up and she couldn't tell if she was getting further away from them or of they were growing closer. Like a cool breeze on the nape of her neck, she didn't dare look back- for fear of what she might see. It felt real- too real-

And not like last time she had woken up to a fever.

“Mine,” the voice spoke.

Androgynous at best. Hard to differentiate as the dissorientating pitches slid back and forth. It felt sheer evil.

“As mine as the days grow colder and the fertile earth grows lifeless.
It's mine.”

The profound coldness spread up her ankles, jolting her nerves as she heaved. The slowness of her tired limbs worked against her, the more she tried to get away, the more her body seemed to fight her. Her breathing was ragged and her limbs growing tired despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins.

“All mine.” A cool tongue licked the back of her ear and she screamed.

The darkness faded and she felt her weight drop.

Just when she thought her nightmare was over, she was thrown into a cold environment. Cold cave housed her, she breathed in the cool salty air and the black dots decorating her vision showed her the cool grey colour of her dwellings. So familiar in a sense that she knew where she was minus the attractions’ annoying features.

There was no laughing or jesting but she made out hushed whispers over her pounding heartbeat. Then she felt the unsure touch of a cold palm slither over her clammy hand. The blood hadn't been completely cut off but as things started to work again, she felt herself on the couch, with one arm draped over the side and someone was touching her.

Her lips moved but her throat refused. There was a thick fog clouding over her, blanketing her ability to understand her situation. She knew it wasn't good, it could never be good and yet she forced herself to try and piece it all together.

It had been a horrible dream, but a dream no less and she was thankful for that. Her body shook and she lifted a hand to her forehead to see that she had been sweating.

She had wanted to ask what was going on but as she was about to ask, a voice interrupted her.

“Shhh, save your strength.” The deep dulcet tone flooded her ears causing her tired head to tilt. The whispers had stopped and she saw a picture she didn't think possible. The boys had been scattered but not in their usual places. Flames cast a warm glow on the cool rocky caves where the abandoned barrels had been lit.

She squinted before meeting Dwayne's gaze. He had been the one playing with her hand as she slowly came to. Whilst she wasn't sure anymore, she did know that the feeling wasn't unpleasant. She didn't know him and she didn't know any of them but yet she felt comfort from it, not that whe was showing it. Her body was still on edge and seeing the grimness of the atmosphere, she couldn't help but feel something was wrong.