A new story, this time for Labyrinth, which I love. I haven't written too much past this, but will hopefully be working non-stop until its completion. I hope you like this chapter!
Nothing belongs to me, unfortunately.
Flashes swirled throughout the empty black oblivion, confusing, infuriating and unending. There were always flashes; silver and bright, but never seen up close, never revealed. Spatters of crimson were lost amid a faint, metallic hum and a soft, pleading cry somewhere in the distance, and then the noise, louder than before, and closer, quieted for a fraction of a second, before starting up again. Metal against metal, man against man, she had seen this scene again and again. It was always the same; panic, terror, constricting and unrelenting, coursed through her veins. There would be a flash of pure white against blackness and then a face, bloodied and persistent but welcomed. He was always there. He would say nothing, or perhaps murmur a word or two, and grab her by the hand to help her stand. She would feel his breath against her lips, see his eyes widen in pain, gasp… And she woke up.
Even while conscious, submerged in darkness, she felt as if she knew him, or had at least known him in some time passed. And while she was not old, she often felt as if some part of her had been left in a past she could not remember, regardless of how hard or how often she tried. Bathed in darkness, she found her most precious memories escaping her: a white dog, ridden by a chivalrous animal of sorts, a strange, gentle beast, pleading for her to return to him. There was a gnome – or perhaps a dwarf – short and stubborn, a crystal ball, and a white owl. And there was a man. She may have been able to tell that the man was the same as the one from her dreams, had she had access to her memories, rather than allowing them to drift away. In intervals they swirled and darted across the damp, dark canvas of the night sky – pausing once or twice as if to ensure her safety – before becoming one with the wind, the moon, and the stars. Had she looked out the window she would have seen the white owl perched atop a tree branch, watching her, and waiting, too, for her to return home.
Waiting for her to return to him.