Obsession.

A Surprising Lack of Supervision.

A/n: This was probably my favorite Chapter to write so far. I love how the ending turned out :)
Enjoy!

———————

You had a hard time waking up this morning. Your head was killing you and the entirely of your back felt painful. Half asleep and still waking up, you turn your head to try and alleviate the pressure building on your skull, only to send a jolt of nausea down your throat at the slight movement.

Groaning, you open your eyes, being met by an old, mossy brick wall and a dim stream of sunlight. You could hear waves lashing against a cliff outside, along with the mewls of seagulls looking for something to prey on. Odd.

One of the first things you noticed as you awoke is that you weren't wearing the mechanic jumper the twins provided you. Instead, a fluffy black sweater with a hood attached to the back and your favorite pj pants took its place. You don't necessarily recognize the sweater, but it seemed cozy enough, so you hummed softly in approval.

You mustered up the energy to lift yourself up, bringing about a heavy wave of nausea as you did so. You raised a hand up to your head, humming when you felt the rough texture of bandages beneath your digits. Bits and pieces of the events that occurred last night ran through your mind. A storm, winter-like cold, a white toothed snarl, your head erupting with pain.

You looked around in a daze, taking in your surroundings. The walls were made out of a gray cobble, with small reinforced portholes allowing access to a view of the world outside. The air was stagnant and humid within the stone room, smelling vaguely of the ocean, but luckily not moldy.

You got up slowly got up, trying to avoid the swimming feeling in your head, looking around as you did so. There was an old spiral staircase leading upwards, most likely to an observatory seeing as directly outside one of the portholes was a morning sun rising over a churning sea. You were starting to put the pieces together as you explored the room, running your hands over an old loveseat that sat in the corner of the room next to a shelf full of random trinkets, including a deck of cards and a jar of seagull feathers.

You opened the door next to the loveseat, nestled into a flat stretch of the circular room, finding a small bathroom with an old school shower within it. Turning around, you finally figured out where exactly you were; A rundown old lighthouse, which appeared to be unmanned at the way everything was.

You were a bit perplexed on how you got here, exactly. You remember last night having to do something with Mothrax, but you couldn't exactly crack the code. Was it another night terror, and you had just gotten thrown around in the storm? Was La Marina de Oro ok? Whoever picked you up, were they a sailor or the owner of this lighthouse?

You were so lost in thought, standing by the loveseat, that you didn't hear the front door open up, flooding the dark and dingy room with a familiar warmth. It was only when you felt a gentle hand get placed on your shoulder that you finally looked behind you. You nearly shat yourself when you saw Mothrax leaning in close to your head, looking over it with a concerned gaze. He was floating above the ground, obviously not wanting to touch the dusty floor.

"Are you ok? Your head isn't hurting too much, is it?" He grabbed your chin and turned your head about so he could look at the wound, sloshing your tired brain around. You made a nauseous exhale as you tried to push his hand off your face. The memories of last night finally clicked into place as you yanked his hand off by the wrist.