Berceuse for The Suffering (Complete)

15. {Reckoning}

Lyli's slumber was interrupted by a startling jolt, as though she had been suddenly plunged into the churning waters of an unfamiliar realm. With eyes still heavy with sleep, she sensed a presence in the darkness, tendrils of shadow looming and creeping with eerie intensity. A sharp, high-pitched creaking sound sent a shiver down her spine; it was as though the very bed beneath her had come to life, animated by malevolent forces beyond her understanding.

Her heart racing, Lyli let out a scream - a raw, primal expression of fear and confusion that echoed through the silent gloom. She grasped at the sheets, trying to steady herself, but found no solace in the familiar texture of cotton and linen. The room felt strange, twisted somehow, as though reality itself had been twisted out of shape.

Slowly, Lyli's eyes began to adjust to the darkness. She peered through the inky blackness, straining to make out any signs or shapes. Suddenly, she saw it - a faint outline of the bed, stark and ominous in the surrounding void. Out of sheer instinct, Lyli leaped out of the bed, avoiding it as though it were an abyss, swallowing her whole.

Panting and breathless, Lyli took a moment to gather her bearings. She felt vaguely disoriented, unsure of whether she was still in the realm of nightmares or back in the land of the living. The darkness continued to surround her, but it felt less oppressive than before, tamed somewhat by her own boldness.

However, her relief was short-lived when the wind, like a faithful lover, caressed her curtain with gentle strokes, revealing shards of warm moonlight that danced on her sheets. Lyli didn't find comfort in the soothing breeze or the cozy beams of light. Instead, she felt an indescribable unease gnawing at her soul.

From her vantage point in the corner, she gazed at the bed as if it was a monster lurking in the shadows. The sheets, once a symbol of comfort and rest, now appeared sinister and ominous, as if they were conspiring against her. She heard the bed creaking with every movement, betraying its sinister intentions, and the sound of panting echoed in the room, sending shivers down her spine.

Lyli knew that something was terribly wrong, but she couldn't put her finger on it. The wind, in its infinite wisdom, whispered in her ear, urging her to face her fears and confront the darkness that lurked within her. But Lyli was too afraid, too uncertain, too vulnerable to heed the wind's call. So she stayed there, trapped in her own thoughts, watching the bed with a mixture of dread and fascination, wondering what horrors lay beneath the covers.

As she stood gazing at the bed like a statue, a gush of wind swept through the room, its howls fading into whispers. Suddenly, she heard the wind whisper to her again, conveying a sense of profundity that filled her with uncertainty. "It is real," the wind seemed to hush at her. "Let your course come. Follow your course. You are free."

As the whispers melted into her ears, Lyli's mind whirled in confusion, and her heart thudded with anxiety. She screamed, her voice resounding through the room, and then she looked around, adding to the awful sense of befuddlement that had taken over her. She glanced left; she glanced right, but there was no one in the room, no one who could be whispering to her.

"Who are you," Lyli screamed, her voice now trembling with fear. "Who's there?"

But all she heard in response was the faint sound of her own labored breathing and the whirling of the wind as it blew in from the open window. Tears streamed down her face and she fell to the floor. The creaking sound kept coming, mingling with the wind that whispered, "Follow your course."

Another anguished cry escape her mouth and in desperation to find an answer she grabbed a lock of her hair and tugged at it. She took long drags of breath as she continued to yank at her hair. Each pull, stronger than the next, and by the time she stopped, her hands were covered with uprooted hair.