The Lost Watcher

Nightmares

Grian glanced around, unsure of his surroundings.

Everything around him was dark, a looming darkness that seemed to consume everything in his sights. Grian squinted into the darkness, trying his best to make out anything at all besides the heavy cloud of shadow that surrounded.

And eventually, he did.

Somewhere in the distance, a figure stood shrouded in the darkness, but the shadows were light enough to reveal that their back was turned to Grian. Grian, feeling desperate for some kind of difference in the dark void, shouted out to the figure. “Hello?!” he called, but he got no response.

Grian took a blind step forward, hoping to see the figure clearer. He took a few more until eventually, he was able to make out what appeared to be a blue shirt on the figure, though it seemed to be incredibly faded.

“Hello?!” Grian called again, desperation for connection dripping from his voice. He took another shaky step forward. The figure still kept their back turned to Grian, not responding to his pleading calls. Grian continued to move closer, until he was able to make out something that made him freeze, his heart dropping low into his chest.

The person who stood before him was wearing a set of black headphones perched around their neck.

Headphones that Grian was all too familiar with.

Grian felt his breath catch in his throat and his eyes widened in shock and horror. "Taurtis?!” he called out towards the person cloacked in darkness. He yet again received no response, though this time the figure seemed to turn their head.

Grian took another desperate step forward. “Taurtis, please!” he cried out to the unmoving darkness.

It gave no reply.

He stepped forward again, now close enough to judt barely touch the figure. He reached his arm out. “Please! Taurtis! Just look at me!” Grian begged, his voice desperate and pleading.

Grian reached his arm as far as he could, barely managing to grasp the fabric of the figure’s faded shirt. Almost as though Grian's touch activated something, they suddenly whipped their head around and stared into Grian’s face. Grian felt his eyes widen, horrified.

The figure stared into Grian, it’s dull, faded white eyes feeling as though they were peeling back Grian's flesh and staring straight into his soul. Grian's pried his eyes away from “Taurtis's” disfigured face and instead moved to his messy black hair that was matted to his head with thick, red smears. A bit of blood sat dried underneath their silent lips as though it had once steadily dripped from their mouth.

It continued to stare down at Grian, it’s dull eyes almost boring holes into Grian’s skull. Suddenly, it's deformed mouth opened in a strange, misshapen shape. It let out a muffled gargling sound before it spoke, buts of blood dribbling from its broken jaw.

“Why did you kill me, Grian?”

Grian’s eyes were wide, filled with a pure look of utter horror. Grian brought a hand to his mouth, which hung open in shock, but as he did he felt the warm sticky feeling of blood smearing on his jaw. He glanced down at his hands and was met with the terrifying sight of his fingers now coated with a thick layer of blood.

Grian shook his head and stepped back. It felt as though Guilt was consuming him, swallowing him whole with the darkness of his surroundings. The Guilt of Killing, the Guilt of Living, it all lingered inside of him. And now, it stood in froont of him, having taken the shape of his Victim.

He tried to speak, to reply to the monster of his making. But all that came from his throat was a shocked chocking sound. Grian was incapable of words, but it didn't really matter in the end; no words could truly match the level of disgust and terror he felt.