Alone in the Dark

Nightmares

Shiar watched her scream in pain as she was thrown into a tree, her flight half visible in the dark and silent forest.  A massive shadow moved inhumanly fast as it followed her, its claws wrapping around her neck, squeezing until she let out a squeak of surprised pain. 

She choked sickly at the crushing force as it lifted her into the air by that grip, her feet dangling uselessly over the broken snow beneath her. Her body was crushed back against the trunk of the tree, the sound of leather and fabric cutting through the air as the rough bark bit at her body. What little breath she could get out, billowed around her face in steam. 

The other clawed hand dug into her shoulder, causing one of her swords to drop to the ground, followed by the pattering of red blood on the snow. Shiar could see her stubborn expression fighting back an exclamation of pain, though he recognized the agony crossing her features. He stood in the centre of the clearing, trying to move, trying to follow the two forms as he watched her choking for breath. Shiar was frozen in place, unseen by the two combatants.

"We will not kill you now but it gives us pleasure to cause you pain." The voice of the shadow seemed to hold a crowd of the creatures speaking. It was gravelly and terrifying but at the same time beautiful and alluring.

"Go screw yourself!" She spat out, though her bravado turned into a cry of pain as she was slammed quickly back into the tree like a child's toy.

Something changed. There was a barely describable movement in the shadow, before it leaned closer and breathed in her scent. Shiar watched in horror as it crooned  with pleasure.

"We seek annihilation of the human world, but you... you... are here to help us. We've been calling you for years. You will help." The voice of many voices was a purr.

Shiar sat bolt upright in the dark his skin clammy from his feverish sweating. His mind was foggy and consumed with the nightmare that that his heart racing and stomach roiling. With a small groan, he stumbled out of bed, finding his legs give way beneath him and sending him spilling to the floor. With a groan, he crawled to his bathroom and found himself getting sick, despite his best efforts to fight the nausea that seemed to come from the dream that had awoken him.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Shiar questioned what was going on. Foggy as his mind was, he felt his brain shaking off rust and trying to understand what was going on.  He knew vaguely that he was in his rooms in Sellexu but something about that seemed confusing and wrong. Shiar felt deep in his bones that he should be somewhere else, though he struggled to make that feeling turn into a sensible fact.  All he knew is that he needed to be in that clearing, in whatever fight that was.

Shiar seized onto the certainty that he had to leave, he had to find those woods, that night.

But he couldn't settle his stomach enough to stand, let alone begin to take action, and heaved it empty before finally collapsing to the cool floor.

The next dreams that found him were blissfully blank of images until he felt hands grabbing him and jolted awake again. Shiar tensed and attempted to struggle, though whatever strength he used to have no longer existed and he was as helpless as a child. He growled and struggled to find the strength to resist until sleep cleared long enough for him to see that it was Caelur and Lady Wyn carrying him back to bed.

They had solemn, worried expressions on their faces as they laid him down and cared for him with the diligence of parents over an ill child.

"Damn it, we've got to go."  Shiar muttered, finding himself unable to sit up, melting down into the mattress as Wyn coaxed him to drink some water.