The Grim Reaper || Technoblade (Old)

12: Unexpected Dreams

The small cobblestone shack was full of beds and chests, a small shelter for those who needed it. Phil and I spent the night there with some of the other members of the nation, an anthropomorphic fox, a boy with brown hair and horns coming out of his head, and a man who wore a blue beanie to say a couple of them.

The beds were hard and uncomfortable, yet they were better than the floor and I was still tired from the journey to L'Manburg, Manburg? They renamed the rename right?

I fell asleep to the soft snoring of Phil and the deep breathing of everyone around me, it was calm, nice. Although the cobblestone walls looked a bit bland, nothing would beat sleeping under the stars.

The weight of my responsibilities as the reaper of souls bore heavily upon me, even in my sleep. As the dark room led me to sleep, I found myself trapped in a realm of haunting dreams.

In my troubled sleep, the faces of the souls I had released from their earthly burdens loomed before me, their expressions etched with anguish and despair. They beckoned to me, their voices a cacophony of sorrow, each one a testament to the pain and suffering they had endured in life.

I tried to reach out to them, to offer solace and comfort, but they were like water, slipping through my grasp. The weight of their collective grief pressed upon me, threatening to engulf me in its suffocating embrace.

Begging and begging me to come back, protect them, save them from what their new life entailed. They wanted to go home, they wanted to send a message to their loved ones, they wanted to see others.

I couldn't, I was too busy, too many deaths and too many souls. I had to move away, leave them in the hell that they inflicted on themselves. It was only once I was reassigned to this new region that I was able to have a life, because of Philza.

Phil, the wanderer, the god, the bird who flew with a smile on his face that could make anyone feel better. He was the reason I could now interact, now do things that I'd heard in so many stories from the souls.

I was in debt to him, and I'd do anything to repay what he has done for me. Even take him into another dimension that no live person has been to. Yet he wasn't just a person.

Tossed and turned by the nightmares, I awakened with a start, sweat trickling down my forehead. The room was still cloaked in darkness, the other residents breathing peacefully and deep, enjoying whatever dreams they were having, and not nightmares. The remnants of the nightmare I just had was still lingering like an unwelcome guest. My breath came in ragged gasps as I attempted to shake off the residual emotions that clung to me.

Gathering my thoughts, I sat up in bed, the heaviness of the dream refusing to dissipate. I couldn't shake the overwhelming sense of responsibility that hung over me like a shroud. The souls I had released were meant to find peace, but the torment they endured indicated otherwise.

Not every death was happy, not every life was lived to the fullest and regret always stemmed from the cut off time.

In the quiet stillness of the night, I reflected upon the consequences of my actions. Was there more I could have done for those souls? Was I wrong for just, leaving them? What happened to those lingering questions left unanswered? The weight of doubt settled upon my shoulders, and I knew I had done the wrong thing, I was a coward, someone who couldn't even keep up with the one thing that he was made for.

I desperately felt the need to escape, yet the freaking bed would surely wake someone up. I ripped the blanket off of myself to try and stop the profuse sweating.

I closed my eyes, focusing on my breathing, attempting to find something to focus on, to get my thoughts away. Nightmares like that were common before. The rare times that I could sleep were always filled with them, yet they hadn't happened since I came to this region, was I overexerting myself? Trying to do too much? No one had died yet, so I was still doing my job. I was doing my best, trying to help like I hadn't before.

I had taken on a daunting task, one that required strength and empathy, yet I was not doing this alone, I was doing this for Phil.

In the depths of my mind, I heard the voices of those I had reaped, tormented wails that just wanted the pain to stop. The guilt and the pain of unanswered questions and a never ending afterlife.

The afterlife was somewhere to find peace, see loved ones and be happy, yet most didn't get that, most would only be distressed, or angry. I couldn't help them then, yet with a lower population, I could help those who died here.

With newfound purpose, I resolved to listen to the stories of the departed, offering compassion and understanding. I would seek guidance and support, drawing strength from those who knew the issues I faced, mainly Phil, he was the only one who actually knew anything.

I made a silent vow to honor the souls I had released in the past and left behind. Their presence in my dreams served as a reminder of the weight of my responsibility, but it also fueled my determination to provide happiness and guidance to those who needed it most.

The night had been a harsh reminder of the intricate balance between life and death, the struggles faced by the departed, and the ongoing journey of the souls I encountered. With renewed purpose and an unwavering resolve, I vowed to navigate this delicate path with compassion, striving to bring light to the darkness and peace to those in need.