Alana stood before him, her dark hair resting on her cream shoulders. She looked so frail in front of him, completely nude, her arms resting lightly at her sides. He closed the distance between them. He felt no sexual stirrings, only a strong sense of wanting to protect her. Her eyes followed him solemnly. Will reached his hand towards hers. Their fingertips met with a gentle touch. But as their skin made contact, hers lost it's firmness. His fingers trailed up her soft arm, leaving A pale grey imprint where they touched. It began to flake and fall slowly, floating to the ground like minuscule feathers. Will saw this happening, saw how he was ruining her, but his fingers continued their delicate path up her arm and to the side of her face. She smiled warmly at him as her cheek turned to ash. Their lips met. He could feel her crumbling beneath him. Her lips gave little resistance before they fell into her, around her, blowing away. Will could taste the bitter ash in his throat. He pulled away. Alana looked up at him, her blue eyes peering from the dry wreckage of her face. Her jaw fell onto her chest, causing the ash to swirl around them. She showed no alarm, no pain. His hand went to her left breast, leaving a trail of decay. Will pushed his hand into her chest, her skin giving away like loosely turned dirt, her ribs snapping like dry twigs. His hand wrapped around her heart. It beat warmly in his hand. Alana closed her eyes. The heart gave another hot pulse before he felt the muscle relax and instantly start to grow cold. He looked at the woman in front of him. The rest of her chest caved in with a small dry noise. The skin he hadn't defiled started to turn grey as well, flaking away as if in a gentle breeze. The hole where her mouth had been began to blow away as her forehead and eyelids turned to ash. He saw her disappear, piece by piece. He clutched her heart gently in his hand, hoping that it would not also disappear. He brought it out of the pile of soot that had once been her chest. It wasn't a heart, but a large cinder that glowed red with an inner light. He gave a surprised laugh. She was still alive, Alana was still alive! He gazed lovingly at the cinder, the red light pulsing steadily in his hand. But as he watched, he could see the light retreating. With each pulse, the light would draw into the center a little more. He could feel his panic rising to a point of hysteria. He brought the cinder closer to his face, desperate tears burning his eyes. His breath grew ragged as he began to sob. He clutched the dying cinder to his chest and fell to his knees, the ashes that were once his beloved Alana swirling around him, drily coating his tear-stained face. He realized that with each sob, he was breathing in the soot. His lungs were burning. He tried to scream, but the ash filled his lungs, making noise impossible. He couldn't breathe. Will's head started to beat dully. His lungs were aching, heart racing. Still holding Alana's heart protectively to his chest, he used his free hand to claw at his throat. His vision began to grow dim around the edges. The headache was thundering now, blocking out all rational thought. His chest jerked spasdically, trying it's hardest to get oxygen. He could feel his consciousness fading as the pain grew greater. He could feel his body writhing. His lungs felt like they were about to burst, his heart was beating at a maniacal rate-
Will sat up with a painful gasp. the sudden inhalation made his lungs burn. He gulped down air, his eyes adjusting to the dark room. His heart was still racing, but he could feel it starting to slow. He wiped his forehead, which was covered in a sheen of cold sweat. He laid back down but didn't close his eyes. His dream of Alana always frightened him. He looked at the ceiling, trying to think of nothing. His mind twisted anxiously around blurred notions, all hazy and indefinite in his state of sleepy wakefulness.
Eventually, he drifted back into a restless sleep.