Enigma II : Magic Card

/21/ So Far Away

"S-stop!"

The pleads manifested a broken groan of pain to the void. I knew I heard the voice a lot than once, like the voice within me, but the source was unidentified. The knife was alive, against the owner's conscious desire to stop or go on, it worked on its own. "You think she deserved this!" Splices and thrashes stitched unpatched red scars all across the body forth, wherever it could find a skin to slide over. Sirius drilled onto the northern sky was under a thick layer of clouds, a shower of scanty raindrops cascaded as a yellow drizzle against the faint streetlight. Oddly, when I raised my hand to feel the freeze, all the raindrops would color down to a taint of red no sooner. One blackish-red playground pointed out like veins branching on my arms, featuring an ugly painting, but even ugly is another form of beauty. Shifting eyes away from was an ignorant's cinch. I stared at it with an enamored gaze. No domain of the world could conceive this inconceivable nourishing a calm reserve with unknown traits and hold a reason for this. When I touched my arms, tracing the lines, with each deeper nudge of touch, the lines seemed to fade. A scar formed underneath every fading vein, dissolving to a fader mark afterward, and each started to spread out. One line crossed over the other, stitching a chronicle of beauty with a slow progression just as slow a raindrop fell heaving from the sodium light heightened far from my stature.

I flinched at the irking pain slowly to arise. The slight suspicion of all these being real seemed to falter. It wasn't supposed to hurt in a dream. But a dream that so vivid but so unreal...it still had to be a dream. But there was a body lying in front of me, redder than blood and deader than dead to scream the vital felony. My hand was dappled with a shade lighter than it, still now a fresh crimson. I couldn't see the face. Who killed the person?

"Are you awake, Y/N?"

Am I? Can you wake me up? What is happening to me?

The lines had finished coalescing upon each other. I started, looking at it. It was vague manufacture of an open door that led to someplace. Like it always would. Equipment of chemistry lab captured the hollow space, even the old burette stand stained with purple acid had remained. I knew what would happen next. This picture would light up a fire, and set the city news and the entirety alight with a pretty golden flame to engulf the rest. There would be glasses cracking to a sharded state. There would be a scream, a menthol scent near the door, a rush of footsteps dragging the silence with it towards the staircase. And there would be me, standing and watching the whole thing over and over, once LIVE, hundred times in my memories afresh and more translucent than reality.

"Y/N? You okay-"

My eyes would reach a perennial dark when the curtains pulled up, the white light seeping into from everywhere restrained to leave back the distorted sleep. Neither light was sometimes more helpful from the dark. I groaned slightly under my breath, clutching whatever my hand could fall onto. There was another hand but with warmth, each finger encircled with smaller rings and sweaty wetness maneuvering the rough palm lines.

Something didn't feel right.

"Hey, Y/N."

I peeled my eyes open to fully awake, to meet a shiny white ceiling and a room of the same white and blue. Only the person who sat next to my bed had been a full glow of sunlight yellow, contrasting the clamoring pale noise of color, to a serene desert of no dark. That sun looked at me with worrying eyes.

"Did you have a bad dream?"

"I'm okay." That wasn't the question.

I was checked by a faint beeping sound that triggered a headache for a moment. Jimin held my other hand as I slowly tried to get up, gritting my teeth to subdue the gnawing pain, "What had happened?"