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A wakeful hell
~
Rexton
~

Hell wasn't like it was said to be.

It wasn't scorching, incited with brimstone and hell fire.

No devils danced, no flames brewed and burned the tormentors for the sufferings they inflicted.

Hell came in cold and blistering waves of what one could see but never have. What they once had but shall never have ever again. In their previous life or any other.

Because this was it. An eternal torment.

"Rexton," Her voice came in a tearful, desperate plea.

He felt his body stir, his hand extending through the dark forest and fingers feeding through whatever shadows could show a crack of light.

"Rexton —"

Rexton covered his ears, the cries becoming all too familiar when he was in his wakeful hell — back in the tomb. Where he was bound in metal and chains.

He was bound to another object entirely, to the wispy smoke of shadows that gave him no hope.

But seeing her did.

Rexton could see her, the brownness of her hair that carved thinly around her sharp face. He couldn't catch her onyx eyes, those orbs that bled in blackness as they were clenched close as she shook in pain.

Cadence stirred against the earth, her body writhing back and forth as she continued to cry for Rexton, her mate.

He had to get to her, swim, stalk and prowl through the darkness, he had to get to her before anyone else could.

Running through the smoke, Rexton called out her name, but he was met with her relenting cries of whatever invoked her pain.

As drew closer, his bare feet running against the sheen fog of obscurity, they locked eyes.

Cadence cowered away, her hand clasping her neck, but Rexton caught sight of it before she could hide it. Thick and red blood slipped through the gaps of her fingers and another tearful ring tore out of her throat.

"Cadence, I'm here now. You're safe." Rexton said to her, but she shook her head back and forth, refusing any comfort he wished to grant her.

Rexton took a step toward her and Cadence shrank back. 

Rexton shifted back from his mate and watched as her blood blanketed the earth she laid upon, her body no longer moving against the tides of a warrior.

Her blood was too much for his senses. So much he could drown it and feed —

"Cadence!"

Rexton shot up from his bed and found himself in shadowy darkness, only the moonlight revealing brief fragments of light.

Not again, he thought numbly. Not again.

These dreams, which felt all too real, were taking a circular shape in his life, circling him and tormenting his inner thoughts into nightmares. Cadence drowning in a pool of her own blood, crying out for Rexton and he was never able to get to her in time.

Rexton couldn't go back to sleep, not at this hour, with the moon directly behind him as a constant symbol of what haunted him in sleep.

Kicking the sheets of his sweaty body, Rexton got to his feet and swayed, a hammering sensation pattering across his head.

Steadying himself by planting his feet on the flat surface, Rexton crept out of his room.

The halls he strolled down were painted in blackness, but it didn't hinder Rexton's sight to see what was in front of him. His vision was stellar with the lens of seeing many things at once.

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