Dreams

Seven

He looks down on me, pity painted across his face. I am nothing. He pulls me closer, and I try my best to suppress my whimper.

"I want to show you something," he says, a certain malice to his tone. His face contorts to show a psychopathic smile. He grabs my wrist, twisting it lightly. I try to break his hold as he practically drags me across the floor, but I don't feel so good.

After several hallways of being moved like a ragdoll, I decide to walk on my own. Surprisingly, he releases my arm. He's not expecting me to run away. I think about running now, but I know it would be futile. He gestures for me to keep on following him, and I do. When he raises his hand, the giant metal door before us opens. It scrapes against the floor, and the horrible sound of metal against rock fills my ears.

One look into the room and I know where he has taken me. It's a throne room. It must be the most destroyed room in the castle so far, as almost half of the floor has cracked away. One side of the wall is completely exposed. The same black smoke holds everything together.

It takes me a while to walk straight without the fear of falling straight through the floor.

The throne, made of jagged black glass, dominates the room with its presence. I almost don't notice the stone table beside it, and the corpse sleeping on top.

"Come, my sweet," Damien calls me. He now stands across the room, admiring the body. "I want you to meet someone." His tone of voice makes it impossible for me to know if he's talking to me, or the dead lady.

I shakily move beside him. I look away from the woman. He caresses my cheek, and then grips my jaw. He pushes my head down. "You should look!"

Ever so slowly, I muster up the strength to open my eyes.

Her hair is dark, and long, tucked neatly to the side. The wrinkles on her skin, the boniness of her limbs, and the gray tone makes her look more than a hundred years old, but something tells me that isn't the case. Wearing a white flowing dress gives her a ghostly look, almost ethereal if she didn't look so old. Her mouth moves ever so slightly. She's still alive.

She lets out a horrible wail.

I fall backwards, avoiding her outstretched hand that probably would have wringed my neck.

"Are you scared?" Damien asks me, offering me his hand. I don't take it.

"Who is she?"

"Her name's Kaitlyn. She's my current bride. Not for long, though. Soon, all the life left in her will be mine and we can be wed. Are you excited?"

"Not one bit." I practically spat the words at him. He looks at me, as if studying me. "I have one more thing to show you." We walk to the center. He shoves me backwards.

He stands tall in a powerful stance. Both his hands begin to glow, and he begins chanting loudly. Words I do not know. The already unstable floor shakes. Before us, the floor cracks to form a circle. What was once there crumbles away, and I see what Damien wanted to show me.

It's a small pool, containing a greenish, grayish, water. It bubbles and boils, and releases steam. I feel the heat, even from here. Damien grabs my arm indelicately, applying enough pressure to make me wince. He pushes me forward, and for a moment I think he's pushing me into the pool. "I want you to look!" He holds my head down so my face is inches from the water.

I hear a sizzling sound, and something else. Something much worse. It sounds like screaming.

"Do you hear them?"

I nod. He smiles contently at this. "That's not all." Holding me up, gentler this time, he brings me to the side of the room with a broken wall. He tells me to look down. "What do you see?"