The Chains of Darkness

Chapter 1

I jolted upright, managing to bang my head straight into the shelf above my headboard. Groaning from the pain thumping in my forehead, I slowly realized the pain was from actually that - hitting my head, and not from falling to my death. My pajamas were sweat-soaked clinging uncomfortably cold to my skin. The nightmare had felt so real - I had been an observer but also I had been the chained man. Stumbling from disorientation and pain, I manage to get out of my bed and into my bathroom. I splashed cold water onto my face, sighing as I peered up in the mirror at my own dark gray eyes staring back at me.

I exhaled with relief, but also while feeling a tinge of disappointment growing inside of me. I had hoped these dreams would stop once I had started drinking this pungent potion my doctor had prescribed for insomnia, supposed to knock me out into a dreamless sleep - but instead, they seemed to have become more and more frequent since I started taking it.

Before the dreams had been somewhat blurry and distant, like I was looking through a peephole in a door, or like listening to a radio with a lot of static, but each passing night they grew clearer and more vivid. Sometimes they were so real I thought I could feel things that I had dreamed - as if I had been there myself.

I cautiously touch the skin above my right collarbone and wince at the tender soreness throbbing beneath my fingers. The skin was bruised purple, in a chaotic, intricate network of branching lines, like the delicate veins of a leaf or the sprawling roots of a tree exposed on the surface. I traced the jagged lines that stretched across my chest while taking a deep breath. The marks were in the exact spot where the lightning had hit the winged-man in my dreams. Alexander. I had never heard anyone mention his name before, but now it was ringing inside my head like a bell. "It was just a dream, Thalia." I whisper to myself as I start undressing. I took a long look at myself in the mirror; my body was slender but not unfit, my hair a dark golden blonde from the summer, and my eyes were brown, but really sunken from lack of sleep right now. Nothing special, just simply mediocre. The bruise was already fading from a deep purple towards a lighter blue, just like many nights before this one. I splashed some water in my face, and while squinting my eyes open I wondered what these dreams could possibly mean. I kicked out of my underwear and started making my way back to my bedroom. I grabbed a robe from one of the hooks on my wall and slid it around me while realizing I had luckily not woken up anyone else this time.

I lived in a fairly small cottage with my father and brother and our dog, a border collie called Vixen. They shared a room, while I had the smallest room to myself. I slowly walked down the stairs to the kitchen nook, and Vixen lifted her head in greeting before lying it back down on her paws. She likes sleeping next to the fireplace in the small room we used as a living room. That room connected to the kitchen through a big curved doorway, and in there we had a small kitchen - it only had two countertops, a sink, two cabinets that stored all of our plates which were not many, and the other our spices and dried food which was even fewer. We did not have a lot of money.

As I stepped through the doorway to the kitchen, I felt a shiver run down my spine. The remnants of the nightmare were clinging to me, making the quietness of the cottage almost feel eerie. I took a breath, reminding myself there was nothing out there, and I was being silly for letting dreams get to me this much. No more horror movies before bed. The reason for my anxiety being the nightmares were getting more vivid, more real and I kept getting a feeling they meant something. Something important.

I poured myself a glass of water, my hands trembling as I lifted it to my lips. The cool liquid was a welcome relief, grounding me back to reality. But the questions remained; why did the bruise keep appearing and fading? What did the nightmares mean? Who was Alexander and the others in that room? The dreams brought with them a sense of urgency and dread.