FLESH covered LIES

The Realm of Gloom

I opened my eyes sharply, only to be greeted with more black darkness. Everything seemed to hurt, yet all of me felt numb. I felt invisible and strong, but also vulnerable, and exposed.

I attempted to stand up, before realising that I couldn't, as the floor didn't exist. I was like a spirit, and soul abandoned, ripped from its body and plonked into an unfamiliar environment. I could see nothing but dark, and dust illuminated by a thin strip of light that seemed to have no source, it merely appeared to disappear into the horizon forever. Fear shook me, but calmly I took in my dull surroundings.

My heart felt heavy in my nonexistent chest, my eyes tired and sleepy in sockets that weren't really there. I blinked, trying not to fall unconscious once again.

All of a sudden, a human figure appeared in front of me, dark against dark, barely visible in the gloom. Its masculine shape stood on no ground, it just floated in the air, as though it was walking on nothing. "He" began to approach me, and as he did so, I began to put two and two together. As his face came to light, my troubled spirit shook in terror, and I realised it was Jonathan. He smiled at me; a genuine smile, and I shook my head in confusion.
"You aren't real..." I whispered, recalling my argument with him, which now felt as though it had been days ago, even though I was sure it had just been mere minutes.
Jonathan smiled and shook his head in agreement, but still said nothing. I reached out to touch him, but he raised his hand, indicating for me to stop. His easy smile turned to a frown as a sharp sound rang through me ears. Quickly, he turned his head other one shoulder, with what looked like fear on his face. He began to walk in the other direction from me, swiftly, as if he was missing an important appointment.
"Wait..." I started. Jonathan turned around, and put a finger to his lips. I nodded. Was I really taking orders from a ghost? Just as I was considering this, another figure appeared in front of Jonathon's path. I quickly realised it was Mr Sed and frowned. I had already determined that this was not real life, I had obviously just fallen asleep, that would explain the dream like sensation I was feeling. So I sat back and watched, interested to see what their meeting would be like.

Mr Sed looked younger than he did in real life, the crease marks when he smiled weren't there, as he was doing now. It made me feel uncomfortable; his smile was sinister and cunning. He looked straight into the eyes of Jonathan, who was looking down at his feet, trying to avoid Mr Sed's intimidating stare. I knew something was up. There was something almost murderous in those pleased eyes, and I could sense that Jonathon was worried too. 

Then, very slowly I saw Mr Sed draw something from his pocket. A knife. I turned my face away, deep sobs erupting from my mouth that came from every tired inch of my non-existent body. 

At this point, I had no idea what was going on. Waking up in this strange dreamy alternate reality had been enough to chill me right down to my bones, and make every inch of my mind cold and shivery, but now things were getting even worse. Questions buzzed through my mind, but I tried to sing to myself softly to ignore the gruesome murder taking place in front if me.

Just a dream, it's just a dream. I let the words echo through my mind repeatedly, but the fear still didn't leave me.

Yet still, I couldn't take my eyes off the scene when Jonathon's limp, lifeless body fell to the floor. I began to scream. I didn't make any sound, but I could feel it ripping through my body. 
Shivers began to ripple in every inch of my body, as I watched the soundless murder of Jonathon. It was more shock than grief, shock that took me by the hand, and promised me that I would never feel sane again. I could feel my heart attempting to drop Shock's hand, but he shook his head and frowned, tightening his grip. 

This was beyond the point of a nightmare. I didn't know what I would call it, but definitely not that. I had a sense that it was almost over, that I just needed to hang on a tiny bit longer. So I pulled myself into a tight ball, and wished for the end. 

I half expected Mr Sed to come over to me, with his bloody knife and brandish it in my face, but what followed somehow seemed worse. He simply lifted his head from his disastrous work, red eyes gleaming in the dark, and gave me a ghastly smirk. I had never seen anyone so proud of something they had done. He was like a house cat, having just made a kill as an offering to it's owner. And somehow, in this metaphor, I am the owner. He seemed to expect me to share his joy. I felt like his queen, I was the one he seemed to have done this for, yet he seemed unfazed when I simply screamed in his face, until I finally awoke, sweat pouring down my face, and tears in my scarred eyes.