Spared From Darkness

Region: Domain

Planet: Athra

Location: Mercy's Keep, Private Quarters of Esna Pitoojee

Date: Y113.06.19

Why can't I move? ... I should be able to. I cannot even open my eyes anymore. I do not understand ...

I feel cold, so very cold... even though I wear my winter cloak. I cannot stop shivering ... nor the sweat I feel running down every inch of my skin right now ... the pain, it wrecks me from the inside, but I can't even scream...

What is going on? Why ... why is this happening to me?

Wait ... footsteps... I hear them nearby. I feel him trying to wake me, call out my name, trying to get me to respond ... I wish I could...

Esna... please help me...

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Location: Mercy's Keep, Medical Station

Later that evening …

I awoke to find myself in a different clone, fresh out of the vat. I had barely stepped out when a swarm of medical staff had surrounded me. In my state of confusion, I could still tell they were checking my health, but their main focused seem to be what I could recall, my memory. During these tests, I asked a few times in my tired confused state what was going on, but the answers I received as did little to help clear the air. Very little was explained … all I got answer wise was that I was brought in by my master with rapid deteriorating health. That they had to be perform an emergency clone jump before the damage that had reached past the point of no return.

When they were satisfied enough with the results of their testing, I was allowed some peace, some time to rest and sleep off the confusion I was in. Before slumber stumbled across me, it was then he slipped into my recovery room. My dearest friend … I do not recall ever seeing him look as the way he did when he entered the room. The fear, the worry, he wore it on his face so well. It was not until I spoke up some to him that some relief seemed to come to him. As I watched him with tired eyes, he moved to sit beside my hospital bed, gently taking my hand as he did to comfort me sometimes. He spoke to me a little, though I cannot recall now what exactly what we spoke about during that time. I can only recall he seemed more relieved that I was holding a light conversation with him, despise my tired answers.

At some point, I feel asleep, I know I must have, as I cannot remember when he stopped talking to me, nor when he left the room

Nightmare

The Keep .... Mercy's Keep ... my current place of residence. Most of these halls seem so familiar to me as I walk through them, my footsteps echoing against the cold stone that make up the walls. There was no sound then that...


The hall grew darker as I meandered along, my steps being the only obvious noise. The torches flickered as if a cold wind blew by them, dimming them. But there was no sound of wind in the halls... none at all...


Then, the sounds came. Those sounds... faded off in the distance behind me ... chanting ... warped and corrupted hymns, a terrible tone to something other then God. It grew louder, the noise ... a shout of pain heard amongst the chants... a groan of agony. They happened again and again ... I stood still, petrified in fear, it was familiar ... 


My head turned, my eyes met the darkness... the hall behind me is gone. The darkness swallowed it all, and it creeps up further to me. It wants to engulf me, leave me to nothing ...


My body could move again, and I ran. To the end of the hall, there is a door ... a door to escape this. I had to get away, I need to ... not again, never again.


But my hopes were dashed. The door was no more. Just a cold stone wall, splatted with dried blood. Then the whispers, I heard them ... off to the corner, I could not understand what they were saying. The chants were louder now, my head turns to look behind ... another stone wall. I am trapped again... 


I turn to move, to view the source of the whispers... they would not move, my arms and legs. Shackles had embraced them, holding me in place. My arms, held up, pointing to the ceiling by force. My wrists began to bleed, I struggled too hard to pull free. My strength wouldn't make them give ...


The whispers again, the source visible now. Two figures, both clothed in black robes, wearing pale masks. They spoke more, I could not understand. My shirt was lifted up... removed from me. I pleaded, begged. Knew what would come next, I knew ... tears run down my cheeks...


Searing hot pain against my exposed flesh from the bursts of steam... I screamed in pain, pulling on the shackles more. No budge ... the steam hits me again on the other side. More pain, more cries, more tears ... they do this to me many more times ... I hang my head low, I nearly give in.


The searing stops, one come forward. The glint of a knife, a whisper so clear ... "You're perfect. It's perfect. We need this ..."  A slash to my throat, my final cry ...


I awakened on the floor of my bedroom, in a tangled mess of sheets. The sweat was pouring off of my brow, my heart racing worse then what it does after an intense workout. My whole body was shaking as I griped the corner of my bed, using it as a crutch to get back up to my feet. I made it just barely outside of my bedroom before I slid down the wall, my back pressed against it. It was there, on the floor just outside of my room, I curled up and let the tears flow.