𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐁𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐒

05 | Uncanny Dreams

Smoke aroused in the air. Houses burned. The stench of rotting and burning meat staled the air. People ran helter skelter, the smoke engulfing the house into flames, the sky turned murky and grey covering the sheath onto the stars.

Zioro's breathing turned erratic as he watched the mortifying scene in front of him. People screaming. People dying. A pandemonium. Dead bodies layed all around.

His finger tips turned froze like an ice, cold sweat covering his neck like a wet blanket. Zioro was mortified to see such a scene. Blood. Pain. Death.

"Get out of my sight. " Words fell upon Zioro's ears like a bomb. He turned , flinching, only to find a man being burned alive. His body convulsing, his skin roasting as if cooking a meat. As the flesh burnt, the skin and fascia disappeared. All that was left now was bones of lifeless man.

Bile climbed up his stomach and Zioro vomited all his contents onto the floor. He felt sick, he felt disgusted but most of all he also felt scared. Yet his muscles couldn't find the strength to run away.

A ragged groan left his lips , his eyes watering not only because of the smoke but due to emotions as well. He found himself crying at the godawful nightmarish scene.

God , where was he? He wanted to run away more than anything in the world.

The man in hood then snapped in Zioro's direction. Zioro froze. He stopped breathing. Was this how he was going to die?

The man stepped towards him while he stayed gorgonised on spot. Zioro was ready to die at his hands and accept his own demise, clenching his eyes shut in apprehension.

"You? " the man gasped in a soft tone contradictory to his physique and horror show. Zioro opened his eyes only to let out a gasp as well.

This was not what he was expecting for — a man who resembled him so much they could almost be called twins. He was way younger than he anticipated contradictory to his physique— in his early twenties at best.

"You know me? " Zioro stammered, furrowing his brows. A few seconds ago he was burning everything to ashes like a maniac but now... now he acted completely intrigued and confused.

"How did you come here? Who are you? " The man asked in a bold voice, crouching down to meet his level. Even though it was hard to see due to the smoke, the red head could sense the masked desperation. Zioro stepped back, not understanding the sudden pique of interest but only hoped he wouldn't be burned alive.

"I'm Zioro and....I don't know... How I arrived...This.. This has got to be a nightmare" Nightmare, yes. This couldn't be reality. Zioro looked teary eyed around the now burning neighborhood only to realize he was familiar with it. He had spend countless days playing soccer with you and bicycling during his younger years. The memories were still fresh. Yet he never remembered arriving here or leaving his room.

"Nightmare.... " The familiar male in front of him whispered eeriely bringing Zioro back to the present "Dreams..... Yes. Dreams. How could I forget? " he paused and let out a maniacal laughter before it dimmed down once again. "She's alive.... Right? " his tone was calm yet yearning, glint of melancholy hiding inside which the man did not wish to show. Zioro was appalled by the sudden vulnerability of the petrifying man yet he couldn't understand.

"W-who? " he couldn't keep a straight voice, unwanted stammer hindering his speech.

The man did not answer. He smiled instead. And Zioro bit the inside of his cheek hard. That smile — it wasn't one would have expected from a murderer, from someone who had just fried a person to the bones. A smile of yearning. A smile of passion.