Something has been plagueing Kiara Hale for over a year. Something that has managed to almost destroy the relationship between herself and her father. Luckily, she has managed to handle it while her brother and best friend have been there for her. But, how can you fully rid yourself of something while it rests within your Dreams?
When the familiar darkness settled on the fringe of my vision and the eerie silence began, I knew that I had slipped into the Dream.
Quite often, when we dream, we don't understand what's happening; yet, we go along with where our subconscious imaginations take us - because that is simply how it goes. However, every inch of this one inparticular I recognised. The crumbling brick wall; the gleam of the long chains welded to it. And the ever-present prisoner attached to them.
He always sat in the same slumped position: his right leg stretched out in front of him and his left propping up his elbow. Each ankle, aswell as wrist, was bound by a rusty shackle, the links trailing off into a blurry line. His chest was bare and cropped, ruffled hair covered his eyes. He never looked up, he never moved - untill now.
It dawned on me months before that I couldn't help him, in the Dream. No matter how hard I would try to force my legs to respond, nothing happened. All I could do was watch uselessly from the sidelines.
Concerning his age, I changed my mind easily. Somedays, I'd think that he was only a little older than myself. Other times, small details, such as the lean muscles and rough stubble, made me believe that he wasn't a teenager, but a man. Twenty or Twenty-One was my latest guess.
Squinting my eyes together, pinching the surface of my skin, I tried to wake. It hadn't worked previously and it didn't work now. I hated having to see someone - a human being - in such a condition. I suppose I felt like a coward though if I left him on his own. At that thought, I suddenly paused.
After being stalked by this image for the past year, I noticed instantly a feeling of ... wrongness. Despite this nightmare being every inkling of wrong anyway.
In a moment of curiosity, I opened my lids. A pair of sharp, crimson pupils stared straight back.
In shock, I attempted to retreat backwards. The look sent involuntary chills down my spine. I couldn't describe it; I far from wanted to. The words that popped up weren't pleasant. Unholy. Satanic.
Then why was his expression so pleading?
Kiara, a voice whispered into my ear, almost like a trick of the wind, It's time. The man hadn't uttered a single word from his lips.
You've got to help me, Kiara. Please. I shook my head, breathing in quick, struggling gasps. What's happening? What ...?
Help me. The darkness started to grow more intense, engulfing the entire scene like a giant black hole. I heard a last murmur, which repeated itself over and over again.