Chapter 01

{Shadowed Nightmares}

Moving isn't the smartest idea when you know you're hurt. But the funny thing was, I knew I wasn't hurt. How I knew? Because it was a dream. That fire never happened. I would wake up from this nightmare and find Mikilay in the other bed beside mine. She would be okay. Not cuts and no bruises. I would be okay too.

I opened my eyes and I felt like screaming my sore lungs out. My body screamed all on its own. Screamed pain and suffering. I only moved my eyes, my neck hung down on my shoulders. My bleeding hands were chained against the wall, and I was seated on the cold ground. My clothes were torn and covered with dark blood. I couldn't tell if it were my blood or if it was from someone else.

I had a horrible feeling that maybe...Mikilay did die. That the fire did happen and that I have woken up from my dream. As much as I want to say I'm still sleeping, everything feels so real. The pain, the cuts I felt on my body were the same cuts from my dream. Wounds from a dream can't materialize.

I glanced at my shoulder. My shirt was burned, as well as my skin. I could smell the burn skin. It smelled like a burger left on the grill for too long. I winced in pain as I gently moved my hands less than a centimeter away from the wall. I unfolded my bent legs from under me. My joints were stiff and and I grimaced as my stiff, torn skin stretched as I felt the ground under me.

My mouth tasted like rusted metal and it was dry. Probably from the blood.

My dream wasn't a dream, or it was and all my injuries and current conditions have materialized into reality.

But where was I?

I lifted my head, painfully and looked around.

It was dark, cold, and damp. In front of me, I could barely make out the black bars that kept me in the little space. I could see a small warm light somewhere in the distance.

I squinted my eyes, trying to make out the figure that was holding the light. My eyes widened and my sore jaw gaped open. The person who was holding the torch, was dead. Hanging from somewhere on the ceiling. His neck was twisted in an awkward position, blood and a black liquid coming from his mouth. His eyes, were gone, torn from the their sockets.

I shut my eyes, wishing that when I opened them, I'd be back, in my bed. Back to reality. But when I opened my eyes, I was still there in the darkness. The hanging dead man, still facing me, the torch lighting his face.

Hours later, I heard heavy metal doors being pushed open, several voices speaking. I lifted my head, my clumped hair draping over my eyes. My body ached like I'd been thrown off the empire state building and hit by a truck, running more than two-hundred miles and hour, just before I hit the ground.

I heard the footsteps. They were quiet at first, but they grew louder and louder. That's when I saw the dark shadows outside my cell. They were tall, hooded figures. I saw the cold black smoke coming from their cloaks, seeping through the bars and towards me. I pulled my legs up against my chest, away form the black smoke that only came out a certain range before blending with the surrounding air.

The people were whispering. Listening to them, there were about ten of them, all male. Their voices were raspy and low. They spoke in a language I didn't understand. It was very deep and sharp, the words spilling out like shards of glass. It made my want to cover my ears from the screeching sound I thought their voices sounded like. I cringed inside. The thing I hate more than people's voices talking all at once, I hated not seeing who was talking.

I heard something unlock, and the door of the cell creek as it opened. My body began shaking violently with fear. The chains that held my arms up rattled against the wall. The sounds echoed through the halls of the place, the voices growing louder and louder.

The dark figure bent down in front of me, pulling the hood off its head.

In so much horror, I didn't scream. I sat there, frozen, terrified for my life.

The man was a very pale blue color. His skin was tight against his sharp features. His eyes bulged out. He had no iris, just white and the black pupil in the middle. His mouth was sewn shut with layers and layers of bloody red string. There was nasty scar on his neck too. The stitches were also there, left in place, becoming one with his healed skin.

He reached a hand out. His long, thin, bony fingers were cold against my skin. It felt like leather. I closed my eyes, wanting to scream, wishing I'd wake up from this living nightmare, knowing there was no way out of it.

I opened my eyes as his hand extended over my entire face. His hand gripped my face and I screamed. I watched as his white eyes turned red, between his fingers.

The whole place was silent and only my screams could be heard. My head started jerking around, just like my limbs began thrashing, but the man stayed in place, hand on my face. There were bright lights flashing. It wasn't in my head. The lights of the room was on, suddenly revealing the entire room.

It was a dungeon. I was placed inside a cage. Outside were nine other hooded shadow figures. They were translucent, just as the man in front of me. Looking around as I continued to scream, I could see all the dead bodies, the blood stains on the walls, the torn limbs, the faces of agony. The one face that was initially lite by a torch turned out to be just a head, hooked onto a hook that dangled from the ceiling.

The nine other shadow figures removed their hoods, revealing almost identical replicas of the one who had his hand on my face. They all floated towards me, their hands out stretched to me. I began kicking my free legs, but my foot slipped right through them. I felt their cold hands grabbing me and I screamed louder and louder, wishing someone would hear me.

They began chanting in their haunting voices, unfazed by my thrashing and screaming. Their voices took over my screams. I couldn't hear myself. I only heard them. The ten chanting voices in a language I did not understand.

I began shaking my head frantically, trying to get the first man's hand off my face, but my head stood still under his hand.

Welcome to Hell.

I lost count of how long they were on me. I had given in after five minutes of screaming and kicking. My throat was numb and scratcy and I couldn't even let out a whine or a grunt. I felt dead...for all I knew, I probably am dead. They all kept their hands on me, chanting, still.

I dozed out, trying to think I was somewhere...away from here. Away from reality and everything that was going on. I pretended I was on my own cloud, high in the sky, where no one can find me. The warmth of the sun, the gentle breeze, and the soft cloud I laid on. That's the picture I put into my mind, hoping that if I could keep that image up long enough to get through this. But it didn't last long. Their chanting overtook my thoughts. It took over me. I felt like I could chant the words with them because they've repeated it so many times.

But if I did so - I would be giving into them. I knew they wanted me to chant with them. I had a feeling about it.

Finally, what felt like days later, their hands pulled away, disappearing into the long sleeves of their cloaks. They all stood up, backing out of the cage, pulling their hoods over their heads as it shadowed their faces. The lights in the room blacked out again, leaving the dark outline of their figures.

"The lock, has been opened." one of them said. I understood. Why? It was in English. So wherever I was, they knew English. "Return her, immediately."

Where am I again? Oh yeah, a dark ass dungeon in probably the ninth level of hell.

One stepped forwards, holding his bony hands out. I could feel the wall behind me start to melt in a way. Then...the startling force sucked me out. The chains broke loose and I scream as I felt my arms were pulled from the sockets of my shoulders. My body began spinning. My mind span with it.

Round and round and round.

I stopped spinning and my body began falling. It didn't take long before I landed. I landed on something soft, but hard and stiff at the same time. It jerked up with an oof and I rolled off to hit a much harder surface.

I laid there, still. My body was dead and I didn't expect my mind to take long before it followed. I felt hands grab me and I jerked up suddenly. My knees curled up to my chest, my forehead tucked in between, my hands gripping tightly around my head, covering my ears as voices entered my mind. I opened my mouth and forced a high pitched scream from within me. I heard it echo back to me, making me scream even louder.

I could hear voices talking to me. I heard beeping as my heart pulsated violently. I lost my breath for a moment and I grasped my throat with both hands, frantically searching for air. I inhaled, but only small amounts of air made it through my clothes air passage.

I felt something thin and long jet forced into my neck. A line of liquid extending it. My trachea opened and the air came in. I felt as mask get put over my mouth and nose as some one began pumping air into my lungs. I took in each breath until I my lungs were so filled, they could explode form the air. My mind began spinning, in a good way.

I didn't feel dizzy, rather I felt calm and related. The fast beeps of a machine slowed down to a steady pace that sounded like a good pace. I could feel the hands on me let go as my body sand down. I felt the ground underneath me disappear for a moment and then I was placed back down on a much softer surface. My eyes rolled around for a while as I watched all sorts of colors dancing inside my head. They were beautiful colors. Blues and greens, violets and pinks, yellows and oranges, white and silver and all sorts of colors in between.

It wasn't long before black took over. And that's all I saw, felt, and heard.

Darkness.