Sleepless Dreamer | Shadow Slave

Flashlight. Dead.

Black shard. Dropped.

Because of the boy and his 'brave' act. Although maybe the boy spared the gruesome pain Hope was about to commit to wrench free from the Profaned's grasp. At least the boy still had his pocketknife, so that was something.

Step. Step. Step.

Hope walked slowly as he kept his injured hand out and traced it along the tunnel's wall for support but also to find an exit of some kind. 

During the night and through the dawn, Hope's hand had somewhat healed.

Not exponentially—by all means the wound still looked fresh and sharply stung with each contact—but it healed faster than when he got injured as a mundane human. And there was the fact of his cursed [Tears of Sorrows] Attribute curing maladies, so, his wounds wouldn't get infected and therefore worsen in the process.

Step. Step. Step.

Hope's steps echoed in the darkness.

The silver morning light he left behind could barely reach anymore in these thickened shadows. Even the water next to him, which had appeared like a liquid of ink with flecks of rays in it, started to merge with the rest of the darkness into one blinding black wall.

At some point, he turned right, and light simply ceased to exist at all.

Down underground...

Deep under the old walls of whatever mind crazy man had the idea of building for a train to pass through.

Hope didn't know entirely much about his Quadrant's history before the Nightmare Spell, but all of these audacious yet ridiculous acts of craftsmanship were too strange.

Step. Step. Step.

Besides the never-ending memory voices in his head, he could hear the water to his side rippling and bubbling downstream towards the broken mouth of the chasm; the only bright sound in this cloak of ominous darkness.

But another element that was not so bright was the smell.

Hope's nose tickled from the mixture of stale, stagnant water, rusted metal, and mold. It created a dank and foul smell that wetly grew in the air, tainting the atmosphere as it started to stick to his clothes and hair.

'Smelling bad...Tsk. What else is new.'

Step. Step. Step.

But Hope was walking a bit slower than usual.

It wasn't because he was cautious of threats in the darkness, but his feet started to strike something stiff every now and then.

He paused as he shifted his feet to make out the anonymous object, and realized he was stepping on a human's hand. Other times he felt legs splayed out or whole bodies stretched across. Perhaps those people found the idea of hiding underground from Nightmare Creatures a better alternative than running away from them above. Or maybe from humans alike.

Hope nonchalantly stepped over their limbs and torsos, making a comical large stride. It consequently shook the boy every time he struck another corpse or had to awkwardly move across.

"..mnn...?"

Hope felt the boy stir on his back.

'Here we go again.'

Hope held back a sigh as he felt thin fingers weakly grip onto his shoulders. The boy groaned, turning his head side to side but didn't lift. It was as if he was too tired to fully wake.

But maybe he should stay awake.

There was always that possibility of dying in one's sleep.

And when was the last time the boy had a proper meal?

"Hey, kid." Hope said.

Kid. That was a bit ironic. The boy was hardly three years younger than Hope was. Did that make a difference? Maybe not. Or maybe significantly. How were kids supposed to act nowadays?

In this day and age, what did it mean to act one's age?

***

Adam felt his body floating. His legs suspended from the ground, and yet he felt his body hugging onto something.

He blinked himself awake, but light did not appear as he expected it so. Not the familiar gloomy morning or his father's presence in the next bunk over, but darkness.

'...hm?'

Adam felt deathly tired as he sluggishly recalled his memories. He remembered he and his father were escaping to this haven he mentioned. Bedtime stories of a place where peace wasn't as farfetched as the settlement they lived in. Garden walls. Hanging lights. Tall ceilings.

But his father was dead now.

Adam frowned as he shifted his head and tried to recall more of what happened after that. But he couldn't help but feel like he was still moving in this sea of darkness. That there was an echo in here of footsteps that did not belong to his. An echo that made it sound like someone was walking behind or in front of him.

But besides those footsteps, Adam thought he could hear the quiet sound of breathing.

He was about to dismiss that as a fearful imagination until the sound came again as if it hovered next to his face.

"Hey, kid."

Adam's eyes widened in the dark, the hairs along the nape of his neck stood up. He pulled his head back, feeling dizzy from the simple gesture, as he prepared himself to see a monster, or a ghost randomly appear.

But nothing did.

"U-um-" Adam hoarsely spoke. "Er...who.."

The voice did not respond. Adam almost doubted it came in the first place. But he could now feel his hands gripping onto what he thought were shoulders and cold soaked clothes beneath him. But his clothes were soaked too...

What happened?

Adam hesitated and reached his hand further up into the space and felt a neck, then damp hair.

It really was a person.

But what kind of situation...

"Who...are you...?" It felt impossible to keep his voice from trembling. "W-where am I?"

"Remember what happened last night?"

'Hm?'

Adam blinked in the darkness at the returned interposing question. He tried to recall back. But it came in flashes. Almost as if they came from a nightmare rather than reality.

Faces. Terrible faces chasing him down an infinite corridor with taunting screams and laughter as if there was no escape. No. That couldn't be real. Could it?

Adam gulped before he spoke. "I...was it a dream...?"

"Probably better that way."

Adam tilted his head in confusion.

So was it not...?

He tried to replay the memories again, and although frightening to recall back, he felt like was missing something. But he couldn't quite figure out what it was.

Adam felt the person trip. He hugged tightly onto the person to brace against a fall, but the person kept on walking as if it were a simple mistake. Nothing of a dangerous notice. The person even shifted Adam into a more comfortable position to not slip so easily off.

This person seemed to be...alright in moral standards if he could carry Adam's weak self.

Was there a possibility of being kidnapped?

Maybe so...

Although, the person's voice didn't exactly belong to a grown man. Not exactly young, but not exactly old either. Or maybe it was the way he spoke that carried a mature tone to it.

"U-um...so...who are you?"

There was a pause. "Just a simple soldier."

"Oh..." Adam twitched. "A soldier...?"

"You afraid of soldiers or something?"

"Well...I never imagined one helping me out..."

"I'm just doing myself a favor."

"By carrying me...?"

"Sure."

Adam frowned. Seemed to be a man of short words too. For some reason, he felt a sense of deja vu coming before he asked another question:

"H-how...old are you?"

He felt the person shift awkwardly in his step.

"Sixteen."

'Oh...'

"W-we're not that far apart then."

"Mm." Silence followed, but then to his surprise the person spoke again. "I suppose we're not."

Adam's eyes blinked heavily from the response as he battled against a yawn. His nerves calmed slightly at the confirmation, and the darkness did not seem so threatening anymore as they continued further into the unknown.

Not long after, he felt the person teeter to the side and the soft tap of metal echoed.

"Hold on tighter, kid."

The voice from the void spoke.

"We're about to climb."