Hestia's Blood [DISCONTINUED]

Chapter 1.

btw their ages are completely made up to fit in with the story n' stuff
3rd Person POV:

Countless of faint splashing sounds could be heard, echoing in the dark. It would be hard to describe but it the sound created a cold, rather damp atmosphere, and besides the cold atmosphere there was a pleasant petrichor emanating in the air. Dream stepped on a path of water, he didn't know what he is currently searching for or why is he here, he didn't even question why he has the physical capability to step on water. But one glance down and his stare was cold, he could feel as if any reasoning and confidence was draining from his body as he realised that the surface he stepped on wasn't just liquidy, but it was pure blood.

Dream took a step back, he felt uncomfortable at the thought that... this blood can't just be here for no reason. It is someone's blood, if not countless of people's. He started walking a bit faster as his verdant eyes frequently scanned around, desperately searching for the sight of anything else but pitch black darkness.
Every step he took made him feel as if he was tulburing the water- blood, more and more, he could hear the splatter get louder and louder. Those weren't the sounds of his steps.

He got startled at once by the sound of something banging in the water right under his feet as he stepped, he took a step back and looked into the water, there are two hands banging on the surface and a muffled voice calling out to the blonde.

"Clay! Please help me, please!" The voice was very familiar, then it striked him, that was Puffy's voice.

Once again he was about to call out to her, with several nicknames weighing on his back and they all had a layer of heavy guilt that was making it as difficult as ever to choose. The first nickname he was ever to consider was 'Mom' but... it never felt right, the second which Drista often calls is 'Aunty' and the last, and most blant, is Puffy. He didn't like addressing to her often because it didn't feel right to call someone older than you by their first name.

He lowered down, trying to make himself believe that what was happening was real or his mind was ruthlessly tossing him around in a sea of fear.

"Puffy? Is that you?" He asked hesitantly as his fingers brushed over the surface.

"Yes! Yes it's me, please get me out of here Clay!"

He stared down at the bloody surface in shock, then he got up and stepped back. The expression on his face was cold with realisation and distress, because he knew.

"You're not her... she doesn't call me by that name"

The banging stopped. And the silence was as loud as possible, echoing in this strange place. Dream stared at the blood, the tulburence would soon stop in the volume of it.

But the adrenaline and fear didn't, Dream knew that whatever that is, it tried to trick him into getting closer. He couldn't stand in place, no matter how much this fear manifesting as if it was countless of chains holding onto him, he felt as if he'd only stick around to find the worst. He could feel his hands and feet running cold, and the damp sweats were dripping all over him. There was a strange smokey odor that he couldn't get rid of everytime he was breathing.

Dream could spot what seems to be some sort of island in the distance, it was huge actually. The grass was red, matching the blood path on which Dream was running and there were countless of red trees which were strangely bigger than the usually normal trees. He could catch a glimpse of some sort of red berries growing on those trees, but he's forgotten the name long ago. He just knows that he has tasted them before, but the taste was indescribable and unable to ring any bells for the name.

He heard the splashing sound get louder and there was a stronger commotion under his feet as he approached the island, all of his strength was draining when he has finally reached it, but before he could even take a step on the grass, something pulled on his leg. The grip was abnormally strong and it pulled him under right in an instant, but the blonde could grip on the edge of the island before he'd completely succumb into the blood. He was panicking, he didn't even wanna know what was taking a hold of his leg just now... but he could just feel weirdly long and sharp nails dig into his skin. With a childlike fear he could imagine that it was just as he once thought of it, a horned monster with long razor sharp nails waiting for children to wander out at the wrong time so that it could feast. But this thing didn't seem to have a desire for wanting to consume him, it was purely out for blood.