Daniel shot up into a sitting position, his hand clutching his bandaged chest, and his eyes wide. He was panting heavily, the nightmare still clear as day in his head. "S-Shit..." He said finally, having calmed down after a few moments. He ran a hand through his hair and tried to reassure himself that it was all over, that Alexander was dead, and the orbs destroyed, the shadow along with it. He took a deep shuddering breath and got out of bed, limping slightly to his bathroom. It had taken him a few weeks, but he was finally able to take baths again without freaking out too much. He turned the water on and standing in front of the mirror, gingerly took off the bandage surrounding his chest. The three large, healing gashes, striped across his chest were one of the only things that proved what he had been through was real.
Daniel sighed and looked up, there was a slight purple tinge just under his eyes, showing how little sleep he got each night. He shook his head and lightly traced his fingers over the wounds, hissing slightly when he accidentally pulled the skin. He shook his head and stripped out of his pants and underwear, before lightly testing the water with a finger. Deeming it a suitable temperature, he slowly stepped in and settled himself down, let out a slightly pained groan when the water washed over the stitches and scabs. He took slow even breaths, slowly relaxing against the tub. He blinked slowly, still somewhat twitchy about being in water. He picked up the soap next to him, and slowly began washing himself, his eyes never leaving the water, for fear of the invisible monster that had attacked him during his stay at Brennenburg. He shivered at the thought and quickly finished cleaning.
He toweled himself off after draining the tub and moved back to his room to redress. He lit two of the candles on his desk, smiling dryly at the memory of his unforgetable trek through Brennenburg Castle. He stared at the small journal on his desk, and after pulling on a shirt and trousers, sat down.
He gently opened the leatherbound book and his head swam slightly as he read. "2nd of July, 1839,
I recieved a letter today from the Algerian governor's office disclosing the fate of Herbert's expedition. About a week after my departure, Abdullah, one of the men travelling with us, returned from the desert. He was badly injured, as if maimed by a lion. The man rambled deliriously about the expedition being attacked by something horrible.
The French quickly dispatched a search party to look for the expedition. After searching for days, they found the camp abandoned without any trace of Herbert or his men. Tomorrow I'll retrieve the things they recovered from Herbert's tent at the customs house. I don't know what to make of it, but I'm worried for him."
Daniel shivered slightly as he read what he had written, before losing his memory. He knew what had attacked the expedition, but even just the thought of it sent an unpleasant chill down his spine.
He stood from his desk, closing the journal as he did so. He buttoned his shirt quickly, and grabbed the old abused lantern that he'd used. It was useful, and well maintained dedspite it's age. He lit it, and slipped out of his room, gooseflesh arising on his skin as he walked. He still had a constant fear that the darkness would start closing around him, choking the life, and sanity out of him as it did so. His train of thought was interrupted when he came into contact with something warm. His balance was thrown off and he backtracked a few steps to regain it, before looking up. -
Daniel sighed and looked up, there was a slight purple tinge just under his eyes, showing how little sleep he got each night. He shook his head and lightly traced his fingers over the wounds, hissing slightly when he accidentally pulled the skin. He shook his head and stripped out of his pants and underwear, before lightly testing the water with a finger. Deeming it a suitable temperature, he slowly stepped in and settled himself down, let out a slightly pained groan when the water washed over the stitches and scabs. He took slow even breaths, slowly relaxing against the tub. He blinked slowly, still somewhat twitchy about being in water. He picked up the soap next to him, and slowly began washing himself, his eyes never leaving the water, for fear of the invisible monster that had attacked him during his stay at Brennenburg. He shivered at the thought and quickly finished cleaning.
He toweled himself off after draining the tub and moved back to his room to redress. He lit two of the candles on his desk, smiling dryly at the memory of his unforgetable trek through Brennenburg Castle. He stared at the small journal on his desk, and after pulling on a shirt and trousers, sat down.
He gently opened the leatherbound book and his head swam slightly as he read. "2nd of July, 1839,
I recieved a letter today from the Algerian governor's office disclosing the fate of Herbert's expedition. About a week after my departure, Abdullah, one of the men travelling with us, returned from the desert. He was badly injured, as if maimed by a lion. The man rambled deliriously about the expedition being attacked by something horrible.
The French quickly dispatched a search party to look for the expedition. After searching for days, they found the camp abandoned without any trace of Herbert or his men. Tomorrow I'll retrieve the things they recovered from Herbert's tent at the customs house. I don't know what to make of it, but I'm worried for him."
Daniel shivered slightly as he read what he had written, before losing his memory. He knew what had attacked the expedition, but even just the thought of it sent an unpleasant chill down his spine.
He stood from his desk, closing the journal as he did so. He buttoned his shirt quickly, and grabbed the old abused lantern that he'd used. It was useful, and well maintained dedspite it's age. He lit it, and slipped out of his room, gooseflesh arising on his skin as he walked. He still had a constant fear that the darkness would start closing around him, choking the life, and sanity out of him as it did so. His train of thought was interrupted when he came into contact with something warm. His balance was thrown off and he backtracked a few steps to regain it, before looking up. -