Tornado of Nightmares (Book 2)

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☼ Faune ☼

I DON'T KNOW HOW LONG IT HAS BEEN SINCE I HAVE LAST SEEN THE SUN. The last time I felt her warm embrace on my face. Her loving rays shining down on my skin. It's been so dark, so dark. I feel claustrophobic. I feel like crawling out of my own skin. This feeling of being trapped is starting to weigh down on my chest. The feeling of not being able to leave. The feeling of someone locking me away and throwing away the key. It scares me more than anything I have ever faced before. It feels too much, far too heavy for me to breathe evenly. My chest rises and falls but not steadily. I can't ever seem to breathe regularly anymore. I have to force air in my lungs. Deep even breaths. Count to ten in my head, breath in, count to ten, breathe out, count to ten, repeat.

Sleeping doesn't come to me easy in this place. I try forcing my eyes shut, forcing my body to dream, but it won't. I don't feel tired, but I don't feel energized either. My mind feels dull, my body feels hollow.

I ache. I hurt. I burn. I yearn.

Yearn for something—something to grab onto. A rope, perhaps, in a secluded room. A rope that dangles from the ceiling and waits for my fingers to grab hold. Waits for me to hold on, then it brings me up and up and up. I'll wake up, Ember will be there and so will Lokas. They will be there sitting by me with smiles on their faces. They'll tell me everything will be all right, that it was just a nightmare. They'll tell me the clouds are gone and the sun is out. They'll tell me I'm out.

But when I look at them—Lokas's face falls. His normally dark skin turning grey. His brown eyes roll up, showing only whites. He falls, clutching his stomach. Where he bleeds and bleeds and bleeds. I try to stop the bleeding. I clamp my hands over the wound, willing them to seal—to close. But they do not. The bleeding get's worse. Lokas grabs my face with a shaky hand, he leans up, I think he's going to kiss me.

When he get's close enough he stabs my heart. Stabs it and stabs it. I gasp, choking on my own blood. I try calling out his name.

Lokas Lokas Lokas!

I scream. Screaming for him to stop it, to stop hurting me, to stop killing me. I scream to him that I love him, that I always have. I scream that I love him—

Strong hands on my shoulders shake me, shake me violently. I jerk up, screaming. Hands leave my shoulders and now grip my face instead. Worried gold eyes search my face. His stunning features turn downcast in a frown. My scream dies on my tongue when I realize who it is. Who is holding my face.

Landon.

His hands leave my face and squeeze my shoulders. "It was a dream, you're okay, you're all right." His words squeeze my heart. It may have been a dream but . . . it felt so real. I felt Lokas stab me, I felt his hatred burning through his body. Felt it with every fiber of my being. I wish everything was all right, I wish that everything was a dream and that I could just wake up.

Someone pinch me.

I wrap my arms around myself, bringing my legs up to my chest and resting my head on my knees. Landon and I have taken turns sleeping, it's the only thing we're allowed to do in here. We don't hunger, we don't need to relieve ourselves, but we still need sleep. It was strange the very first day we were in here. Landon tried doing everything. I was rather repulsed watching him attempt to relieve himself and cursing when it did not work.

"How long was I asleep for?" I ask, quietly. I doubt it was long, my dreams . . . they've been anything but pleasant.

They've been awful.

"Three hours," he answers, his tone gentle. Gentler than I've ever heard from him. We have been in here for— I don't know, actually. Time is . . . strange here. There is no sun or moon to track the days. We have no clue how long it's been since we were last out. But it's been long enough.