THE ENIGMA OF THE SIX

A CALL FROM THE REALM OF DREAMS

HILDA 

"Hilda," an unfamiliar yet hauntingly familiar sound from the depths of her dreams called to her. As she turned, a man confronted her, wielding a sword with an evil gaze. A mysterious blade materialized in her grasp, as she swiftly swiped it and killed the threat. Perplexed, she pondered the origin of this unanticipated weapon.

The brief respite of confusion yielded to a seamless transition within the dream—a shift into a battleground. Hilda's hand moved with lethal precision, an involuntary instrument in a violent symphony. Despite her internal resistance, an external force seemed to dictate her every move.

Abruptly, the scene shifted. Hilda found herself seated amid the bedlam, cradling an unknown man. A solitary tear betrayed her resilience, as a torrent of emotions surged, accompanied by the unanswered question of the man's identity. Struggling to discern his face, Hilda felt confined, unsure if it was fear or tears that held her captive.

His bloodied hand trembled as it extended, presenting her with a necklace—a delicate token carrying unfathomable significance. With each passing moment, his features gradually emerged, triggering a tumultuous wave of recognition and terror that pierced Hilda's core. The haunting echo of these emotions lingered as she jumped awake, leaving her with a profound sense of terror and a heartache that endured long after the dream had dissolved in her mind.

ERIC

"Hilda, are you alright?" Eric's voice was soft, laced with concern as he gently touched her shoulder, coaxing her to turn and face him. He had spent the entire night by her side, his sole focus on comforting her through the torment of her nightmares. As he noticed her drenched in sweat, his heart clenched with worry. When he thought she had finally escaped her nightmares, she jumped up hyperventilating and swiftly wrapping her arms around a confused Eric.

Throughout their two years together, Eric had always admired Hilda's strength, her ability to mask her pain behind a brave facade. But now, as she clung to him, her tears soaking into his shirt, he realized the depth of her vulnerability. In that moment, he felt a surge of tenderness and protectiveness toward her.

Gently guiding her to meet his gaze, Eric's eyes softened with affection. He longed to comfort her, to reassure her that she was safe in his arms. Despite the darkness that had invaded her dreams, he vowed to be her light, to love her through every fear and uncertainty.

"Who made you cry like this?" he asked, his heart clenching with a mix of anger and worry.

"You," she whispered, her voice breaking. "It was you. I finally saw the face of the man in my arms. It was you... and you... were... dying, and I couldn't do anything about it." Her words trailed off as she burst into tears, clinging desperately to him.

"It's alright. Everything's over now. Nothing's going to happen to me," he poured out words of comfort, though he wished he knew what could truly calm her. "Look at me, Hilda," he said, gently turning her face to meet his gaze. Fear was evident in her eyes, and his heart ached for her. Worry and the overwhelming desire to wash away any fear and vulnerability she displayed consumed him.

He cradled her face in his hands, his thumbs gently wiping away her tears. "I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. You're safe now, Hilda, and I'll always be here for you."

She stared at him for a moment, her gaze searching his eyes. Then, with a gentle motion, she wiped away her tears, casting off her fear and vulnerability as if shedding a heavy cloak. In that moment, the strong woman she always portrayed began to resurface.

"I'm sorry, Eric. I don't know what came over me. I just lost it. You guys are the only family I have left. I don't even know if there is anyone else waiting for me. You guys are all that I have. So please, please don't die," she spoke with urgency, her original voice and strong demeanor returning as the hysteria gradually dropped away.