I'll Be Here

Here Comes the Darkness Again

Tw: blood/gore/assault/gaslighting

He couldn't breathe.

The air was boiling hot and humid, slipping thickly in and out of his lungs without delivering any oxygen to him. It smelled and tasted like iron, vaguely familiar. He could feel that his eyes were shut, but he could sense a faint red glow through his eyelids, not unlike the blackstone of the cold room he had grown familiar with.

Breathe. Extremely slowly in, extremely slowly out.

His ears were ringing, but he could hear something else, slowly getting louder; a wet, squishing, nasty sound unlike anything he'd ever heard before.

He opened his eyes and screamed.

He was splayed out, suspended over a pile of bodies, putrefying, stinking, rotting, flesh liquefying off the bones, crawling with worms that mashed and squirmed as they burrowed into what remained. Alatus gasped at the thick air that he finally realized was blood mist. He thrashed, and karmic binds bit into his skin.

They were everywhere, circling his neck, wrapping around his waist, all the way up and down his legs, sharp and cutting as wire, threatening to pull him apart more than iron chains ever could. The more he saw, the less he could control his breathing, his motions, his thoughts, he couldn't wake up, couldn't get away, couldn't stop screaming, couldn't stop seeing the bodies below him, couldn't block out the memories of their deaths...

There was no end to it. There would be no end to it. There was no solace in unconsciousness and no solace in death. Life was hell. Sleep was hell. Death was hell.

No escape.

Hell. In all directions. For all time.

All.

Time.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

"Alatus, wake up!"

Alatus crashed awake with a gasp, more relieved than he'd ever been to be back in the cold stone room, on this cold stone block, with the freezing iron chains on his wrists and ankles. He lifted his hand as much as he could, searching for the wire-thin cuts that he was positive would be covering his skin, and was even more startled to see that he was fine.

Zhui's eyes over him were wide and concerned. "You were only asleep for a minute. But you were screaming."

Alatus bit his lip, trying to ground himself and stop shaking. His voice came out more like a sob. "I told you." He swallowed. "I told you, I don't sleep. I can't sleep. You made me sleep." He felt like a child, breathing hard through his mouth, promising to never take the scoured air for granted again. Dreams. He needed dreams. He needed to distract from whatever nightmare that had been.

"I do not make you do things anymore," Zhui frowned.

Alatus gritted his teeth, spitting at the taste of blood in his mouth, fighting the feeling of bile rising in his throat. "You made me sleep."

Zhui folded his arms. "You're imagining things. You were so tired and wiped out after the archon meeting that you fell asleep. Did you dream? Did you see the karmic binds?"

Alatus didn't hear the question. His head was spinning. "I have been more tired than that before and not fallen asleep. Please don't make me sleep again. Please." He turned his face to the side, bringing his hand up to cover his eyes. The blackness was better than the red glow from the fires and the red glow of the stone.