𝚂𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝙰𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 [𝚐.𝚒 𝚟𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚡 𝚐𝚗!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛]

XXV

It was a completely encompassing, surrounding darkness. You felt it gather around your body, trapping your limbs in their uncomfortable spread position, arms twisted and legs bent terribly. You couldn't see, the blackness heavily shadowing your eyes, but you could still feel the pain of your broken bones and bloody fingers. Heavy syrup coated your body and a disgustingly metallic smell filled your nostrils, burning them to the point tears gathered in the corners of your eyes, slowly sliding down your bloody cheek.

You wished you could move, wished you could drag yourself away from this nothing, this never-ending nothing, but not even your fingers, would twitch, and you laid there with stilted breathing. Muffled noises entered your ears, it sounded like conversation but it could hardly be heard with the ringing in your own ears.

You felt a hand cup your cheek, uncomfortably warm compared to the chill of your dying body. They were speaking to you now, the other hand cupping your face and trying to get you to open your eyes. Despite the muffling and the ringing, you could hear their voice become steadily more frantic the longer you didn't respond.

You wanted to respond, truly, but a deep-seated apathy came over you, like a blanket weighing down your already unmoving limbs. Your brain felt fuzzy and you couldn't care to even open your eyes and let the frantic person now cradling you to their body know that you were still alive. With the movement to that person's chest, you slowly realized a gush of blood had trickled down your throat, matting your already crumpled clothes, the one holding onto you let out a pathetic scream and gripped your body tighter.

You noticed your breathing was slowing down, short breaths became short and farther apart. You were hanging on by a string now, you could tell. It was odd to be so acutely aware of the way you were dying, to understand every last breath taken and every feeling of calm, no, resignation, to your own death. It almost scared you, it definitely would've if you felt anything anymore, but both your emotions and the pain in your body was disappearing.

The last thing you heard was a desperate cry.

-

You woke up, eyes widened frantically as something constricted your throat, a weight settled heavily right on the center. After a few seconds, it passed and you took a deep, distraught, breath. Sitting up in your bed at Wangshu Inn, you noticed the window was open and the curtain fluttered in the breeze, revealing scatterings of stars against the inky black sky.

Getting up out of bed you raced, quietly as possible, out of the room to the balcony. Your room felt restricting, which is the last thing you wanted to feel after that dream, and sitting in the highest balcony while looking at the vast, beautiful sky would be a good way to do that.

Creeping through the empty hallways of the inn, you were, not for the first time, dreaded by its silence. The stillness sank into your bones, creating a deafening sense of unease that had you speeding up to get to your destination. You felt like a kid running up the stairs after turning off the light when you finally got to the balcony, escaping the 'monster' following you in the dark.

The balcony was open, exactly as you hoped it would be, looking over the road that led to and from the inn, the moonlight shining on the worn wood. You rested against the railing, letting your head fall down to lean on your forearms as you breathed deeply, settling the shaking of your bones and heavy heart rates.

It happened again, another terrifyingly realistic dream. A shiver racked your spine as you recalled every detail you could remember, and remember it you could. In perfect clarity you could recall every drop of blood down your throat and every failed attempt to twitch your remaining fingers. Now that you were awake, and could think properly, that previous apathy from your dream washed away and you were left with fear.