Chapter 18 Mid-day Dreamer


LUKE POV

The hot water ran down his worn and battered body. It was hot, steamy, and warm. He couldn't help but shiver slightly nether less. The clear liquid dripped off his skin and down his legs to the white tiled floor of the tub. Bowing his head he allowed the spray to hit the back of his neck and then cleanse his whole body. The blood of the children all went down the drain. His tanned Tatooine skin shone to its original golden brown, the natural hue becoming clear once more, albeit slightly paler than usual, as the crimson coating was washed away,

Being clean really never felt so good he thought closing his eyes and facing the spray of water.

His cuts stung bad. Real bad, but he did his best to ignore the pain for now as it would be addressed later.

Squirting a decent amount of shampoo on his hand he lathered his hair. The white suds picking up the leftover crimson stains. As he bathed crusted skin and old scabs flaked off giving way to tender areas. He intently rubbed his body until he felt raw, intent of getting every last drop of blood washed away.

All of it went down the drain.

For some reason he felt relief at that.

Then he resumed to gently washing himself. The sensitive wounds had become irritated with the previous treatment.

Hands massaged slowly up and down his legs, scrubbing with soapy bubbles. The suds then washed clear away when the shower spray hit the area again. He slowly washed every part of his body until it was squeaky clean.

Feeling satisfied he turned off the water and got out of the tub, flinging open the white shower curtains.

Stepping onto the fuzzy mat he wiggled his toes pleasantly around in the soft material.

He actually felt content at the moment.

Not thinking about any worries.

Grabbing a fluffy white towel from a nearby hanger he wrapped it tight around his waist.

His blue eyes found a long rectangular mirror against the wall beside the sink. He saw someone in the reflection staring right back at him. Azure blue livened eyes and all. Sandy brown hair and tan Tatooine skin. Some muscles and a fit figure. Looking much more closer he spotted the dark circles under his stark blue eyes, the tired face, and the many lesions (injuries) that marred his skin.

He looked for a minute more, and then looked away.

He grabbed another towel.

Drying himself off he saw red.

Red dotted the towel.

Red!

Red like…

"Blood we makkke

Blood we makkkke

Blood of chillldrennn we musssstttt drinkkkkk

Harvesssst the blooddd

Harvesssst the blooddddd

Gein he gwenleichhhh

Harvesssttt the bloodddd

Blood reddd

Blooddd as ssstttaaaarrrr

Hyperion, Hydrolica…

The bloood of my littlllle brokkkkennnn childddrrrrennn

Dripppsssss downnn to my feeeeetttt

Sssplit their organssss

Cut offf their headsssss

Drain theirrrr bodiessss

Offf that tangyyy tassstingggg bloooddd redddd leadddd

Gein he gwenleichhhh

Harvesssst the bloooddd

Harvesssst the bloodddd

Harvvvvessssst the stttarsssss…

Heeeheeeheeeehaaaahaaaheeeheeeheeheeeheheheheeeeee…"

Unexpectedly his whole being filled with panic.

He froze, his breath catching in his throat and stilling in his lungs.

He couldn't breathe!

He couldn't move!

He couldn't think!

Overwhelming fear and anxiety clutched at his heart.

Crashing down in intense waves.

It wouldn't let go of him!

It wouldn't get off!

Make it go away! He cried out in his mind.

The screeching voices of the Scavengers erupting around him!

The room started spinning and he felt like he was going to hurl.

His body shook uncontrollably.

His heart was pounding rapidly in his chest, like a caged bird yearning for freedom.

His vision was flickering.

Was he going to pass out?

Then it was gone.

He immediately gasped out, gulping in greedy breaths, lungs surging.

He felt bittersweet relief.

Relief that it was over. Whatever it was.

But he was still deeply shaken.

So shaken he couldn't stop the shivers that wracked his kneeling form.

But then he saw…

The red that stained the white towel was his blood.

His.

No one elses.

Not the… the… children's.

It was mine.

My blood from my wounds and my cuts.

No one else's.

His pounding heart calmed.

With big wide azure blue eyes he blinked rapidly, regaining most of his senses.

Swallowing thickly he stayed there, weak at the knees for a time.

Confusion blossoming in him.

What was that?

For some reason he couldn't remember what had just transpired. He knew he saw something, or heard something but… but…

The feeling was familiar like he'd know it before.

But from where?

He didn't know.

He didn't want to know!

Not now!

Not ever again!

Feeling a migraine coming on he gratefully dropped the subject for another time.

Massaging his aching forehead he stood up on shaky limbs and quickly dried off the rest of his body off. Ruffling his hair and drying his scalp of the droplets of water that clung desperately onto his sandy strands.

Towel still wrapped around his waist he sat down on a simple brown stool and grabbed the gauze, bandages, bacta patches, and antiseptic he had found from earlier after snooping around the complex.

He started applying the cleanser first to his leg where most of the major damage was done. There was that stab wound in his shin. He dabbed on the antiseptic, biting his bottom lip. It stung. He added a bacta patch to the area, pressing it firmly down. Then his attention went to his lower leg, almost at the ankle, where blood slowly beaded out of the raw as red wound. The flesh was torn and jagged. The wound would unfortunately scar over. That had been where Mahogany had bitten him. He was actually lucky to only get away with a scar and not have his whole foot torn off. After dabbing up the dripping red fluid he swabbed the bite with tons of antiseptic, because who knew where that Scavenger's filthy mouth had been. He added a bacta patch, wrapping it mostly around the whole width of his lower leg/ankle there. Then he placed some white bandages over it, wrapping tightly over and over, around and around that part of his leg until it covered the bacta patch and the wound completely.

Now was the tricky part, addressing the stinging gash he sported on his lower back. There were two long cuts, horizontal from one flank to the other, running straight across where the dip of his back was and intersecting each other. He gently stood in front of the rectangular mirror, using his reflection to treat his wound he reached behind his back and cleaned off the blood slowly spilling from the area. He then rubbed a good amount of disinfectant on the cut. This time the wound burned. Licking his chapped lips he grimaced, then continued adding even more. Probably a little more than necessary. After he was done he added a long bacta patch onto the duo gashes and wrapped bandages over it. The long white material went around his waist and back again. Ever so gently he settled the bandage in place.

With all the serious wounds nursed he turned his attention to a red imprint on his wrist from when Sheila had dragged him by a metal wire during the brief scuffle with the bounty hunter. He carefully cleaned the wrist wound and leaved it be as it wasn't bad. Next he took care of the small cut on the palm of his hand, some scratches, and other minor injuries he had accumulated.

Emerging out of the bathroom he plopped onto the white satin sheeted bed in the bedroom. The bedroom consisted of a big white bed filled with tons of fluffy and big pillows, an adjoining bathroomin which he had previously been in, a closet in which there was a washer and dryer cleaning the clothes he had scavenged earlier from around the house that fit his small figure, and a large circular window covered by light white curtains. The only way you could tell that it was daytime was because of the thin stream of light pouring in through the window from though the crack from where the curtains met. The rest of the room was fairly dark. A steamy haze poured from the darkened bathroom doorway.

He stretched his beaten body out across the fluffy sheets that were comparable to a white puffy cloud.

Oooohhhh, this is so comfortable.

He seemed to sink into the bedding itself.

The stream of light coming from the window fell upon his prone body, lighting a strip of the paled golden skin on his chest.

Earlier he had broken down completely. All he had been was stressed, that was all. It's nice to have a good cry once in a while. After calming down he had managed to restore his connection with the force through some serious mediation, and unlock the door, getting inside. That's how he came to be here in this wonderfully soft bed.

Here he lay. An empty mind is sometimes not a good one as they say. He had cried earlier. No, not cried he had full out sobbed in grief. If he ignored what had transpired in the bathroom it wouldn't be a lie to say that his mind was actually a bit clearer now. No matter what the Jedi believe it's not good to keep such emotions bottled up. With that he mulled over some things.

I've been through stuff before. I've seen people die before! Heck, I myself have killed lots of people before, such as on the Death Star, but why does this bother me so much? What the Scavengers did was just useless slaughter of… of… children! Of course that's going to bother me. Maybe it even left me traumatized or something! This just makes me remember that there is so much evil and chaos in the universe, and that there is absolutely nothing that I can do about it sometime! I can't stop everyone! I surely can't save everyone! There's so much more in this world than Palpatine and the Jedi. Although Sidious does have a major impact on events, such as the building of that abomination which is able to destroy whole planets in seconds! But I can try to be better. Strive to be better. And do what I can to help everyone and the Jedi.

Then he realized.

I don't have to do this on my own.

I may not know much about the Jedi of this time or be educated in all those fancy smancy light saber moves but this is their problem too. And I am admitting that it's possibly a problem much too big for me to handle on my own. I keep on going on and on in circles. Sidious is my main priority for now, and it might take much more than me to beat him. I can't let my own doubts and fears get in the way of my goal. There's no use trying to carry the weight of the world on my shoulders. And maybe it is okay once in a while to ask for help with a situation that involves all of us. It's not just me. So maybe I should just go to the Jedi for help. Then we can all take down Palpatine.

Together.

And I won't be alone anymore.

Just then the dryer rang out in a tune, indicating the clothes were done drying. Earlier he had put them in the washer and then later transferred them to the dryer. Now they were done.

Letting loose a yawn he leaned forward, scratching his upper back. Towel still wrapped tightly around his waist he limped into the closet and got his warm clean clothes out of the dryer. Then he slipped his own undergarments on, throwing the towel to the floor. Luckily his original pair of underwear wasn't soiled in the recent events so all it needed was a good cleaning. And no way in sith hell was he about to put on someone else's underpants.

Cause I'm not that desperate.

Grabbing his new clothes he placed them on a nearby dresser next to Sidious's black lightsaber and a clock that showed the time and date. These were the only garments that he had managed to scavenge from the home that actually fit him. The attire consisted of a long black cloak that was a bit big on his figure, a pair of baggy pants, a loose dark blue, almost black, t shirt that only came up to above his belly button because it was kinda small, which even surprised him. The rest of the clothes he had encountered were either too small or too big. It made no sense. He could only conclude that the owners of the complex owned a child.

He closed any open doors and deposited himself back onto the comfy bed, wrapping himself snugly in the satin sheets.

It was so soft, and so comfortable.

He groaned in pleasure at the texture of the comforter and rolled around in the bedding and all over the pillows like a child. His hair got all ruffled up. He brushed his sandy bangs out of his eyes and snuggled deeper down into the covers. He drew a long pillow up close to his body and hugged it tight.

Outside the sun was rising even higher and higher in the sky.

The symbol of midday.

And there he lay.

Where sleep claimed him…

Smog filled the air and billowed up in dark puffy clouds, gathering in the sky and blocking out the clean light of the Coruscant sunset. The sun's warped golden rays cast a blood red horizon and the whole world seemed to be tinted a crimson and bronzes of many brilliant shades of orange. It was a never ending industrial district that sprouted out big black gasps of smoke into the atmosphere out of thick pipes.

Then it came into view, a structure.

A building standing tall above all others and dwarfing the barren seemingly empty expanse of iron landscape filled with warehouses and factories. It stood proud and tall over the destruction and smog. The pinnacle of the element. Representing what once was and what once were, but now abandoned, or so it seemed. The building stood, skinny and slender in build. Cylindrical with fin like protrusions coming out of its side to make up part of the base. The whole structure sat heavily upon the ground. Behind it, were several other buildings, almost as tall, but not as grand as the main masterpiece. Even despite being beaten up, broken, and partially destroyed in some areas along its vertical sides it however stayed intact. The building was a pale rusted light brown color with highlights of a deeper faded copper red.

Then the image changed, rippling like a still pool in which stones were cast in.

His eyes saw a vision of hallways upon hallways and big expansive rooms. Each had a similar variety of brown hues coating the walls, but others, other rooms of more importance, were plastered white, grays, black, and other colors. He looked and saw, but others did not seem to see him. There were a few various aliens whom he did not know the name, some humans dressed in lab coats and uniforms and droids who marched the hallways going from place to place. There were droidekas, trade federation B1 droids, and gray, almost black in color, armored B2 HA series battle droids. Other exotic security machines patrolled the halls of the 'supposedly abandoned' structure that even he didn't know the names of.

The image rippled once again.

Then there was a man. A man with light skin and white slicked back hair along with a mustache and a finely trimmed/maintained beard. He had endless abyss of dark brown eyes that you could just get lost in if you stared long enough. Those eyes shone more than what appeared as it was the gaze of an intellectual. Cold, hard, and calculating. There were fine hard lines etched into the worn and old but still surprisingly lively face that shone sharp distinct features. The guy was tall and easily dwarfed his own height of 5'8'', as the man stood a good 6'4''. The man's attire consisted of all black garb. Black boots, fine black pants, and a black long sleeved shirt accompanied with a medium brown colored belt. He also wore a long ankle length dark brown cape held in place by a silver chain. The man was no stranger to power. He walked with a demeanor of high authority and displayed that he indeed knew of power and had gained that power. His power came from what couldn't be seen by the eye right away, unlike brutes, but honed skill over decades. The man also appeared to be a gentleman of sorts. A person of high class. The mouth moved in conversation with another but no words came out. He couldn't hear a thing.

The image shattered to another.

A pair of bright luminous apple red eyes shone in the darkness of his dreams. The eyes stared, not truly seeing him but looking right at him. They searched. Bright and wild. Frantically looking around. The red orbs, a window to the soul, reflected a dull pain. He couldn't see whose eyes those belonged to but he felt. He felt a gnawing tight vice like ache in his chest. It was unlike the pain from earlier. It was different. As this pain came from deep inside. It was a pain that wasn't his.

His eyes snapped open.

But as he awoke he caught an echo of words spoken from the red apple eyed creature in his dreams…


:) hehehehehehehehehe