The Curse of Memories ☆ | The Golden Guard

☆Revelations☆

Uh hi

TW:

Slight descriptions of Blood and wounds

Murder

Word count:1.8k

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It feels like I can't breathe. Like a weight on my chest that's pushing down, making it impossible to expand my lungs. There's an aching feeling covering my whole body, like I just got the shit beat out of me. 

The dream feels familiar. Like I've experienced it before, but my brain would not give me the answers. But I knew, my heart knew. An overwhelming sense of dread washes over me in waves, when I think I've escaped the winding rapids it hits me again pulling me down deeper.

I stand in a familiar room. Bookcases line the walls on either side of me, shelves filled with different books. A beautiful stained glass window stands in front of me. I stand there looking out the window at the street below. I shake my head and turn away, walking over to the desk in the room. The desk is covered with books and papers with illegible writing on them. I stare at the messy desk for a moment, I start picking up the books that don't have bookmarks scattered throughout the pages. Carrying the books over to the bookshelf, I place them back in the correct places.

One after the other. Even with such a mundane action, the feeling of dread never leaves me. It hangs around me, haunting my brain. Regret, sadness and anger all filling my thoughts. I can not wrap my head around why I feel like this.

I continue putting the books away, and stop once I get to the last book in the stack. Looking at the book's front cover, the letters of the title seem to jumble together, making it impossible to read, but the cover shows something relating to Oracle magic. I stare at the cover for a moment. I place the book on a stool next to the bookcase, whispering something about remembering to return it.

I sort though book after book, page after page and when I begin to believe that the dream will never end something changes. It breaks the cycle of the repetitive mundane task. I hear a knock on the door. A hard, quick knock. I quickly look at the door. There is a pause, the world around me slowed. I shout, "Come in!"

Slowly a figure walks into the room.

The first thing I notice is the blood.

Panic rushes over me.

"Philip, what happened?!"

He doesn't respond for a moment. His eyes bore holes into me, it was like every word I said fueled him more. His hands stay locked behind his back. I feel uneasy in his gaze. I repeat my question, this time slower.

Philip steps fully into the room and closes the door behind him. I don't move, I stand there like an idiot. I smell that odd metallic scent of blood, it makes me sick. We stare at each other in silence.

When he finally speaks his words confuse me. "This is your fault."

I'm taken off guard by the sudden accusatory tone. "What are you talking about?" My throat goes dry. He takes a few cautious steps towards me. "You know exactly what I'm talking about!" He raises his voice then he lowers it to just above a whisper. 

"Caleb is dead because of you."

My breath is caught in my throat, my brain jumping from thought to thought, trying to think of something, anything to say. My eyes wide as I stare at the man with disbelief. "What..?" My voice comes out shaky. A million questions fill my head but my mouth can't seem to translate any of my thoughts. I stare at him, looking for some type of hint that he was joking or an explanation. But I find nothing.