Shadow Touched (Editing)

9. GREY

He is running. His arms and legs pumping rhythmically with his breath. His heart races. It is vicious. Life threatening. It hammers so hard he's certain the thing that follows can hear it, can probably feel it reverberating through the ground. The pounding of his feet against the hard-packed soil does nothing to mask the thud of his heart. The boom! Boom! Boom! That knocks against his chest. He can't stop running. He can't look back. One wrong move and that thing—that monstrosity—will catch him. And then, gods only know what happens.

So, he runs. Further away from the castle, or what's left of it. Further away from the dead bodies strewn across the Keep. Further and further, he runs from his people...his family...he must because it is too late to save them. He is all that's left.

Against his better judgment, he looks back over his shoulder. It's a mistake. He hits a snag and loses his footing. He tumbles forward, hands outstretched. He hits the ground to discover it's slippery and wet. Muddy. He's run so far that he's hit the banks of the Kravis River. The water is high. It rushes along with a strength he knows he cannot best.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

His heart still thunders.

At the water's edge, exhausted and terrified, he lets himself rest for a moment in spite of the beast that chases him. It's just one moment. One second to catch his breath. As he does, he glances into the water and swallows a scream.

The monster peers back.

~*~

I lurch forward, my body shooting up and away from my bed. My heart races. I struggle to catch my breath, terror squeezing the air from my lungs. I look around my room, disoriented. I expect to see the creature from my dreams watching me from the corner. Blinking, it takes another moment before my brain registers that I am awake. The dawning understanding calms me only momentarily. The memory of the dream returns in shocking, vivid detail. The scene of blood and death overtakes me.

I scramble out of bed, making it to my bathing chamber just in time to throw up.

It was only a dream. Or rather, a nightmare. Another one. That makes one for every night this week. The sour taste in my mouth makes my stomach roil once more. I wait a moment, and the feeling passes. Leaning back, I let my head rest against the wall. The tile cools my sweat-soaked skin. I'm so exhausted that before I know it my eyes start to close, only when they do, I see the monster from the dream lingers.

There won't be any more sleep for me tonight.

I drag myself up, tapping the pocket flame embedded into the wall to light the room as I do. My face appears, peering at me from the mirror that hangs across from the tub. Blackness recedes from my pupils, melting away slowly to reveal blue streaked with red. Heavy bags have made a permanent home beneath each eye. My mouth is tight. Deep grooves line either side. And yet...I look away. My face is still handsome. My blue eyes etched into a regal face, full lips, and defined jaw brushed with the night's stubble.

I grab some fresh watermint and chew it slowly. The nightmares are becoming more vivid. This one felt so real as if I wasn't dreaming but living my future. I didn't just see the terror wreaked on the castle. I could smell it. The fear. The tangy, metallic smell of blood. What I saw when I looked in the water? The thought makes my stomach turn again.

I take a deep breath, steadying myself. It was just a dream. I repeat the mantra until my shoulders drop and my hands unclench.

I reach for the bowl of water on the vanity, kept warm with enchanted stones. That's when I notice the blood. My hands are caked in it. It's dark and covers each finger and runs under each nail, as if I were bathing in it.

It's dry in some places and wet in others. I stifle a scream as bile burns its way up my throat. This time, I puke in the bath.

Afterward, I return to the water basin to wash my hands. I scrub and scrub and scrub. I claw at my nails, pulling the blood out from under them. I scrub again, so hard that the skin turns pink and begins to bruise. Still, I scrub. I scrub until the water in the basin is the deep maroon of rubies, and my hands sting because I've rubbed them raw.

I drop the soap in the basin. When I glimpse myself in the mirror now, my eyes are wide with alarm.

The feeling turns to dread as my eyes fill with wisps of smoke. It eats away at the cerulean. The smoke swirls and eddys as if it's dancing. It expands, overtaking the cool, calm blue, suffocating it until it's gone, and the grey strands turn to the blackest of night.

This time, I can't hold in the scream of terror. It rips from my lungs, long, loud, and wild. My eyes roll back as my exhausted body gives up.

The darkness consumes me.

~*~