Haunting Memory

The darkened hallways of the House of Lamentation stretch endlessly before you, your bedroom door behind you. You can't imagine why you're awake at this time of night, but something compels you to move forward towards the end of the hall that you can't quite see yet. You dig into your pocket, searching for your D.D.D, but you find nothing but a ball of lint in your pajama pockets. With nothing to light your way, and your heart telling you to still proceed, you take a step forward, followed by another. Soon enough, you are wandering the aimless halls that have no end in sight.

You can't remember when the wall appeared, but you know for sure it wasn't there a moment ago. Startled, you turn your head to the left and right to gain your bearings, only to find yourself at the base of a spiral staircase. Your heart pounds in your chest as another tug on it tells you to ascend the flight of stairs. You look behind you, only to see another wall blocking your escape, effectively trapping you at the base of the stairwell with only one way to go: up.

You swallow hard, an uneasy feeling taking over your senses as you take the first step towards the floor above.

You shouldn't be doing this, you think, but with nowhere else to go, what choice do you have? You begin to think to yourself that maybe you should have gone back into your room and gone back to bed while you still could have, but it's a little late for that now, isn't it?

Like the hallways, the staircase is dark and seemingly never ending. You keep yourself on your toes, almost half expecting Lucifer to show up any second and hound you for being somewhere he told you not to go. You soon find yourself out of breath from the endless staircase, with the muscles in your legs beginning to burn, but still you continue to press forward.

Almost as suddenly as the wall had appeared in the hallway, a familiar looking door appears before you. You can't quite place where you've seen the door before - you just know this isn't the first time you've encountered it.

With a baited breath, you reach your hand out to touch the wooden surface, only for it to push open as easily as a breeze could have. The room inside is dark, almost pitch black. But yet, despite not being able to see a thing, you can tell that something or someone is inside, waiting for you.

Hesitantly, you enter the shadowy room, only for a force to shove you back against the wall, with what feels like a clawed hand wrapped around your neck and a rope around your waist. A low growl meets your ears and the hand that grips your throat tightens, the claws digging into your flesh to draw blood and keep you from breathing. The "rope" around your waist tightens and also restricts your breathing. Frantically, you claw at the hand around your throat and desperately gasp for air. The minimal light that floods the room from the hallway illuminates a silhouette of a demon and glints off of their violet eyes. They remind you of Beelzebub, but this demon isn't as strong as him. Regardless, they're still stronger than you.

Somehow, the darkness becomes darker as your vision starts to fade and your struggling weakens. The claws that pierce your neck only let go for a brief moment before raking across your throat, effectively cutting it.

"Pathetic humans," a familiar voice sneers. "You should know better than to trust a demon."

Just as your vision goes dark, you're jolted awake in bed by a hand on your shoulder. You're back in your room, the light of the Devildom moon filtering through the drapes on the window to highlight the silhouette of Belphegor beside you.

"Are you okay, MC?" His soft voice mirrors that of the one from your dream, and you can't help but grasp at your throat for a brief moment. You pull your hand away, half expecting to see blood coating your skin, but there's nothing to stain your palm. You nod hesitantly.

"Just a nightmare," you say, but it's only half the truth. It was both a nightmare and a memory. A memory that's your own and not yours at the same time.

The glint of the moonlight that reflects off of Belphegor's violet eyes again reminds you of the nightmare and memory you were forced to endure not a minute before. "Do you want to talk about it?"

A whimper catches in your throat as you shake your head. "No, it's fine. I'll be fine."

He sighs, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you back down onto your shared bed. He had moved into your room a few weeks ago, on the four month anniversary of your relationship, and you've found it easier to sleep since then. But you've also found more frequent nightmares accompany his presence beside you at night. Memories of a time you're sure must have happened but at the same time they only feel like a dream.

"If you say so," he says with a yawn, hugging you more tightly and burying his face into your neck. "Let's go back to sleep, I'm tired and it's the middle of the night." You chuckle at his characteristic complaint, returning his embrace and burying your nose into his fluffy hair. He's always smelled like honey and lavender: a sweet scent that never fails to put you to sleep.

Soon enough, your nightmare is forgotten, and the two of you drift back to sleep in each other's arms.