The Marí

Part.20

"Emerald, wake up. It's just a dream," a voice broke through the darkness, calm and soothing at first. The grip on my shoulder became firmer, shaking me gently but insistently, the shaking became more aggressive, rattling me back and forth. I jolted awake, trembling violently as hot tears streamed down my face soaking the poor pillow. My heart pounded in my chest, and my breaths came in ragged gasps.

"Hena, I think she's awake" a familiar voice called out urgently.
"Emerald, hey, it's okay. It's okay. You're safe now. You're going to be alright."

I looked around wildly, disoriented and still feeling the phantom pain of the ropes and the heat of the flames. The room was dimly lit, the familiar shapes of the room slowly coming into focus.
I turned and saw Dr. Liz, her eyes filled with concern.
"Dr. Liz?" I whispered, still half-expecting the shadows to reappear.

"Yes, sweetheart, it's me. You're safe now," she said, her voice like a balm to my frayed nerves. She sat on the edge of my bed and pulled me into a gentle hug. I could feel her warmth, her heartbeat steady and calming.
"It was so real," I said, my voice trembling. "I thought I was burning there... I thought..."

"I know, I know," she murmured, stroking my hair in a soothing rhythm.
"But it was just a dream. You're here, with me, and nothing can hurt you."
I nodded, taking deep breaths as I tried to calm down.

"I'll go get you something to eat," Hena said, her voice quivering with concern as she left me and Dr. Liz alone in the dimly lit room.

Dr. Liz's fingers were gentle yet firm as she cupped my face, her touch a contrast to the storm of emotions brewing inside me. She carefully wiped away my tears with a tenderness that seemed almost too fragile for the gravity of the situation. Her eyes, however, were sharp as she focused on the left side of my neck. Her expression hardened as she suddenly seized my arm, her gaze sweeping over my body with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine.

I followed her gaze and gasped in horror. Red, angry love bites were scattered across my chest and arms like a cruel, physical testament to my dreams. The sight was enough to make my cheeks flush with a deep crimson hue, and my mind was immediately flooded with fragmented and passionate memories of the dream I had just awakened from.

Her gaze returned to mine, her eyes burning with a mix of concern and urgency. Grabbing my hand with a grip that was both reassuring and commanding, she said, "I need you to tell me the truth, Erald. When did this start?" Her voice was a whisper, almost lost in the thick tension of the room as she glanced around as if expecting someone to eavesdrop.

"What do you mean?" I asked, trying to mask my rising panic.

Dr. Liz rolled her eyes in frustration, her irritation barely concealed. "You know exactly what I mean—the marks," she snapped in a barely audible hiss.

Realizing she wouldn't relent, I sighed and gave in. "I don't know exactly," I confessed, "but it started becoming more frequent when I turned eighteen. Sometimes it happens out of nowhere. But every time the moon is at its peak, he comes to me. I can feel him, but I can never make out his face clearly, only his name."

"And what is his name, Erald?" she demanded, her voice trembling slightly as if she were struggling to contain her emotions.

"Orpheus—I mean Morpheus," I stammered, meeting her gaze once more. Liz's face turned ashen, her eyes flashing with a disturbing glint as if she had seen a ghost.
"And why do you keep calling me that?" I asked with a mix of alarm and disbelief.

"Call you what?" she
responded, my confusion deepening.

"Era..ld? The same way he calls me," I replied, my voice trembling with both fear and curiosity.