Dimitri's Nightmare {completed}

Dimitri's Nightmare

**TRIGGER WARNING: brief instance of torture; mentions of blood, wounds, and injuries**
     Opening my eyes, it's as if I'm seeing for the first time. Pristine white bathed here and there in multi-colored stain-glass light, the room before me is dazzling, empty aside from myself.
     My hands quiver- 'Why?' I think to myself.
     I can hardly seem to keep a delighted grin from engulfing my features- Again I ask in my mind, 'Why?'
     And then I understand as she appears.
     Even more outstanding than the chapel is the bride in the doorway. By the way my heart leaps while my stomach drops when I see her, I know she is mine.
     As she strides down the aisle, bouquet in hand, a slight hesitance in her step but a beaming, radiant smile on her lovely face, tears blur my vision.
     So beautiful is the woman before me; So sure am I of being her groom; So overwhelmingly does love swell in my chest for her- and yet somehow her name escapes me entirely, as does my own.
     Her eyes haven't left me once since entering the room, nor have mine, her.
     Coming into the last meter or so of her slow, silent approach, her hand extends towards me, and I find myself naturally reaching for her right back.
     Just before our hands are to meet, an ear-splitting crash shatters the silence. Brightly colored glass rains upon my bride and I. Figures cloaked in darkness leap from the broken windows, two launching towards her, four towards me.
     The moment the first foe grips her wrist, her name explodes into my thoughts and cascades off my tongue:
     "SOPHRONIA!"
     All this occurs within seconds.
     Lurching towards Sophronia- my bride, my beloved- the four figures surrounding me grab my arms, clawing viciously at my suit jacket to hold me back.
     As what feels like claws bite into my skin, my body seems to turn to molasses. Despite my physical becoming sluggish, my mental remains wild with fear and rage.
     The two enemies clutching Sophronia begin to beat her, using everything from their fists, to razor sharp knives pulled from nowhere, to multi-tailed whips tipped with glass and nails taken from where their waists should be.
     Her wails of agony pierce my ears. I can't look away or even shut my eyes to each new wound they tear into her and mark they force on her skin. My voice has vanished- I try to scream for her but find myself helplessly mute.
     The torture continues for what seems like hours but can only be minutes; There's quickly no blood left for her to bleed.
     Still moving achingly slow, senses dull in shock, I am released and so is she before the monsters evaporate.
     Her body collapses to the once pure white floor, now turned to a stomach-wrenching scarlet. Sophronia's dress, once elegant with satin and lace, now bloody, torn, and ragged, hangs off her beaten frame. Her body is unrecognizable due to wounds and bruises, yet her face somehow remains pale and perfect, untouched.
     I lift my bride as I would have to carry her to the wedding suite, but now I cradle her limp figure to my chest in grief. My lungs feel bound, tight with sobs.
     'She's gone..she's gone...' My mind reels to try and comprehend it. 'But she can't be gone, no...'
     Severely, strangely calm and quiet in reality, my eyes fly open and I wake to see my wife's dark hair sprawled on the pillow beside me.
     My hand, shaking, reaches out and combs a handful through my fingers. Soft, freshly washed and sweet-smelling, it soothes me some, even more so when I lift the end tendrils to my lips.
     Sitting up, I realize that Sophronia is very much alive, breathing deeply in sleep, and reassuringly unharmed, recently bathed and clothed in a long silk nightgown.
     Sighing out a shaky breath, I stand, scratching feverishly at my palms, aware yet uncaring.
     A final glance at her, slumbering peacefully and undisturbed, our young son curled fondly to her side, and I step into the castle corridor, dreading the lengthy, sleepless night of wandering ahead.