Dark of the Moon
Demyx' eyes were wild and his heart beating frantically as he ran through the dimly-lit maze that made up the World That Never Was.
He
had to escape.
He failed.
He's coming.
His dark cloak billowed behind him as he rounded a corner. Ducking down, he stumbled inside an alcove and listened intently, draped in shadows. But there was nothing to hear but the silence suffocating him, and Demyx released the breath he had not realised he held.
As he crept back out into the street he froze. There was something...
He is close.
Demyx felt his heart lodge inside his throat, took a shuddering breath, and slowly turned his head upwards, dreading what he might see.
The faint glow of the moonlight shone through the thinning grey clouds, and in that moment he knew the truth of fate.
Fear overcame him then, hot tears streaked down his face despite the bitter cold as he panicked, running blindly through the streets once again. He could see nothing but a blur, and heard nothing except for himself gasping for breath.
Seeing he had run straight into a dead end, Demyx ran to the end of the alleyway, and crawled behind a crumbling stairway as his legs finally gave way. He curled up alone, shivering, huddled into the corner. He scrunched his eyes up tight behind the heavy hood of his cloak, although tears still trickled down his face.
He waited for fate to take him
