Fears Within a Dream...
A tranquil calm had settled over Erik as he began to slowly reawaken. There was a heavy suppression on his ears, and it seemed, he had gone deaf. Despite this oddity, Erik laid still for a moment, suddenly feeling terribly weary. However, when the man attempted to inhale, a rush of liquid obstructing his throat startled him. In panic, Erik's eyes flew opened; only he found a haze of crimson before his eyes. Immediately, he began to thrash in an effort to free himself from the tinted water. Erik remained stationary despite this, as his hands groped hysterically from the water, to the air. Turning his head, the man desperately sought for air, but the surface was unreachable, inches away from his lips. With a last serge of fear, he hopelessly began to try to push himself from the water as if it were solid. Fruitless, Erik slowly grew still, mind dimming. Abruptly, however, as if his capitulation played a trigger, the water suddenly became manageable, and Erik felt himself sink in its depths. Jolting up right, Erik twisted over, and supine, sat up to break the surface. Coughing, bloody water spilled from his mouth, splattering back into the water rhythmically. With sharp inhales, he attempted to mentally grasp his situation, and understand exactly where he was. Despite his fatigue, Erik idly stood in the water, which was now only hazy from the murky soil which his shifting had stirred. When he collected himself, Erik trod through the peat bog, to the grimy bank. Scowling, he stumbled away from the muddy edge. Reaching to wipe the blood from his mouth, Erik exhaled lightly, realizing then, that he was unmasked. With a start, Erik institutively reached to cover his malformed countenance, whilst standing poised, hastily casting a glance at his surroundings. There, however, was no one present to observe his hideousness, but the crooked, bare oaks.
Warily, Erik allowed his hand to drop from his face, exhaling sharply from behind his teeth, sounding a soft hiss. Gold eyes narrowing, he looked back to the dark, grassy marsh, which lay behind him. Looking forward, there laid a forest. And so, to avoid anymore travels through wetland, Erik started forward aimlessly. In the range of fifteen minutes, the forest surrounding him began to thin, and soon, opened up into a barren circle, the earth beneath his feet a rustic colour. And in the earth, Erik realized with a scowl, stood four posts, and crookedly on each, laid an impaled skull. Firstly, Erik only gazed at the display carelessly, until he stepped closer, and saw that the left most skull, wore his mask. Rolling his eyes, Erik let out an exclamation of annoyance, and carelessly, unimpressed with the sight he believed was supposed to frighten him, strode foreword and quickly retrieved his mask. For a second, Erik lost his composure, as skull behind the mask, momentarily took the living features of the woman he could never possibly forget. Scuttling back, Erik cowered, looking to the bleached skull, as if it had grew tenfold more fearsome. Recovering, Erik glowered furiously, and straightening up, clutching his mask, kicked over the stake with a vicious growl. The stake reeled through the air, landing with a thud, as the skull continued past it. After a brief pause, Erik replaced his mask on his face, scanning the three remaining stakes, before turning abruptly and marching to the right.
Continuing through the forest, Erik felt as if now, he was truly moving toward something. The darkness that once thickened the forest was thinning, and so he fancied he would soon be out from the oaks. Though, the closer Erik believed he came to the boarder of the forest, the more chary he became. Several times, he considered turning back, only to become annoyed with this thought, and continue onward. It was with an air of relief that before him, through the spaced trees, laid the golden scene of a rolling meadow. Hurrying his steps, Erik stepped out into the open air, only to cringe beneath the rays of the sun. He shot a look of contempt to the sky, and shied momentarily, back into the trees. However, in the distance, standing with the art of an angel, was most beautiful woman, he could ever, and would ever want to, imagine.
Suddenly, Erik felt extremely light, and hurriedly started forward toward the blonde woman, who stood with her back to him. Reality sharply bit at him, though, and Erik hesitated, forcing himself to stop. It occurred to him again, for what had to be the millionth time, that the woman who stood in the distance was not real. She was only placed to torment him; another delusion of the metaphysical edifice, which created all that currently surrounded him. However, he could not ignore the desire that itched at his very marrow. And though his encounter with the same woman lead always in the same dreadful direction, deep in misery and culpability, Erik still stepped forward. His usual manner failed completely, and he sunk docilely as he approached her. And when he was several yards away, Erik called Christine's name.
