Thantophobia

Chapter 14

A pair of hands grabbed mine gently, and I knew who they belonged to the moment they touched.

I look up and into his bright blue eyes, somehow full of light. Way different from the very last time I saw them.

"I miss you. I'll always say that." I speak first. He just smiles, and doesn't say anything. He doesn't need too. His smile says everything.

"I love you. And I really want you to come back to me." My voice strains, and a lump in my throat forms as I feel tears in the back of my eyes.

His smile turns into one of sadness. "You know I can't do that. But I can be with you in dreams." His grip on my hands tighten.

"They're never dreams. They're only nightmares. You have yet to visit me in a dream." I pull my hands away. I don't want to feel his grip loosen as he's going to die in front of my eyes again.

He loses his smile as I pull away, and the light begins to leave his eyes. His skin begins to pale. I know what's happening, and I can do anything but look away.

I watch as his body falls, and red forms on his throat. It always begins there.

I try to swallow a scream, but it doesn't work.

Whenever I fall asleep, it's just pure torture.

———

I jerk awake, caught in the middle of a scream.

A very sudden urge to throw up comes over me, and I run out of bed and hunch over the toilet.

When I'm done, I clean myself up and brush my teeth, even if I still feel nauseous. I take a thermometer and check my temperature, but it was normal. Just feeling queasy today I guess.

I grab my phone and call in sick for work. I was rough though because I was shaking so much still due to the nightmare and puking my guts out probably.

I go to the kitchen and fix myself some tea. That helps me better then anything when I'm sick, not coffee. I also pop down some anxiety pills as usual and spend the rest of the time calming down on the couch.

I don't fall asleep though. I turn on the tv and wrap myself in blankets. I immerse myself into a new show on Netflix to binge, and loose track of a couple of hours.

As I'm on the second season, a banging sounds at my door.

I look over confused, and pause the show. The banging sounds again.

Groaning, I stand up, leaving the warmth of the blankets and the couch.

I unlock and open my door, ready to yell at whoever is disturbing me when I'm sick and anti social, but I'm stopped dead in my tracks when I see who's at my place.

Ransom looked very different. More tan, his long hair now in the military shaved style, some dog tags hung on a loose chain around his neck, and a normal black short sleeved shirt with black pants.

He also looked furious.

"Ransom? What are you doing here?" I don't really have much energy to be sassy with him today.

I also feel really sick. My stomach hurts, and I'm probably gonna throw up again if I stand any longer.

"I could ask you that same question." He narrows his eyes at me.

I shrug, and go to sit on a stool by my kitchen counter, no longer being able to stand without help.

He takes a few steps into my apartment, closing the door behind him.

"Tell me, did you go and tell my superiors that I was mentally unstable and fit for a tour?" He lowly growls.

"What if I did?" I stare blankly back at him.

"Then that's a real dick move, Kyle. You just fucked up my entire career." His voice rises in anger.

"I didn't. You did. You're the one going out on these tours without telling your superiors that you're not healthy to do that yet." I retort. He did not get to pin the blame on me.

Ransom scoffs. "I am healthy enough to do my job. But now they don't believe me and I have to go seek more 'medical help' all thanks to you."

I don't respond. I just let him continue shouting at me.

"You've screwed everything up for me, you know that?" He exasperates.

"Everything? Like what?" I ask in a bored tone.

"My job. My job is everything to me. And now I don't know when I can get back to that, all thanks to you."

I take a deep breath, trying to remain calm so I don't freak out or throw up on him or something. He really deserves to be thrown up on for how much of a jerk he's being, but he's my mate, and that'd be really unattractive. And unsanitary.

"Listen, I get your mad and pissed that I care enough about you, that I would go to wherever the hell I went to express my concerns, but can we do this another day? Or else I will throw up on you." I mutter, and rest my elbow on the counter so I can put my chin in my palm.

Ransom scowled. "No. You don't get to dodge this argument that you set yourself up for just because you're 'sick'. Are you serious right now Kyle?"

I shrug. "Worth a shot I guess."

He goes on to yell at me about his job and him being perfectly healthy or whatever, but I zone out. The pain in my stomach has worsened, and it was almost unbearable.

Ransom must've sensed my discomfort all the sudden, because he was no longer openly ranting to me.

"Kyle? Are you with me?" He snaps his fingers in front of my eyes.

I nod, not really wanting to speak. He doesn't speak anymore either, just watching me carefully.

Suddenly, I feel something rush down my legs as my face pales.

I look down, and I see blood.

This is not a dream. This is real.

"Oh my god, Kyle, is that blood?" Ransom asks, now in a panic.

I look up at him and nod.

What the hell is happening to me?

———

(Haha, how are y'all doing? How's quarantine going? Love you all!)