Ex Hominum Deus.

Red rain.

He felt the warmth go away. His legs felt numb, he was ignoring something important. The rough blanket wrapped around him, keeping the stingy cold away from him... something important.

His senses faded, he fell backwards. A silk-like breeze engulfed him. He opened his eyes and he noticed the unending blue around him. A quick breath... he didn't feel anything, another... he rotated...

A figure, tall. Nothing but a shadow appeared before him. Unable to move he tried to shout. But no sound flew from his open mouth. The shadowy person got closer. His face, distorted, blank. Long dark hair covered his shoulders.

"They killed us, save me. It hurts...."

The figure kept whispering these words. His heartbeats increased. His chest was heavy. He found that he was tied on a chair with iron chains.

Suddenly something was behind him. The hands played on his shoulders, they were soft yet a bit cold. They hugged him. A hot breath fell on his ear as the frail hands moved down his chest to his abdomen, a known voice spoke to him. "Your home now, relax. How was your day? is everyone in the office doing fine, how is mark?"

Everything seemed so familiar. A smell filled his nose, roasted chicken, his favourite. He tried to stand up but Alesia held him down... She was merely touching him, yet he felt the weight to be impossible to lift. He felt happy, yet he knew it was fake...

Warmth, comfort and safety calmed him down. It felt... nice.

He then tried to look at his beloved Alesia, he could remember her face, rosy cheeks, long fire red hair, her wide green eyes gazing upon him....

Black hair fell upon his face, he froze... darkness engulfed him once more, he looked down, the frail and white hands had now turn ghoulish, some parts rotting, huge nails tore their way into his skin.

"They killed us, IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS!!!" a highly pitched screeching voice shouted in his ears, he felt blood spouting out his wounds. He shut his eyes as hard as he could. "This is not real, not real, THIS IS NOT REAL". Everything went silent, the pain stopped, the voice disappeared.

He tried to open his eyes... nothing was within sight, but he was again tied to the chair. He took a deep breath and tried to wake up. That was one of the dreams. He could control it, if he just regulated his breath... A foul smell filled him, a moment later a pale white female face appeared before him, its white eyes staring at him, the black hair floating around him, it screamed. "You didn't save us, YOU KILLED US!" inside its mouth he saw the face of a baby. She was moving in quick spasmodic moves.

CRAAAACK, her face turned upside down and her eyes started bleeding, she bought hard and the little face exploded in a moment into a sea of red blood, spraying his face. "No, No! i didnt do it. I couldn't do anything to save you! Go away!" a cry of pain echoed in the darkness.

The room was almost silent, only the sound of the vent filter could be heard and a slow "bzzzz" of a dying fluorescent lamp. He opened his eyes and saw the dark ceiling. The ground shaked, the sound of the artillery barrage could be heard. like rhythmical drums that tuned the whole encampment. They were firing non stop for a year now every 2 minutes and 30 seconds. some dirt fell on his face. His eyes flinched, he moved to clear it. He was in this shithole for too long. The humid and cold air in the room created a heavy atmosphere. He took a moment to enjoy the comfort of the blanket.

It was that moment he noticed he was covered in sweat. He tried to understand why... and then he remembered his dream. He slowly got up and sat on the edge of his bunk bed, leaning forward, placing his shaky hands on his face. He took a deep breath, and stood up. He slowly walked towards the bathroom.