They make their way toward a cave, their footsteps leaving imprints on the desert sand. With each step, their determination grows, propelling them forward despite the weight of their fears.
As they approach the mouth of the cave, they enter its cool embrace, finding solace in its shadows. Marc leans against the cave wall, exhaustion tugging at his body. Cleo kneels beside him, her touch a comforting presence.
The small cave offers a respite from the scorching desert sun, casting an eerie twilight within its confines. Shadows dance across the rough, uneven walls, painting a macabre tableau of their fears. Cleo and Marc huddle together, seeking solace in the dim light that filters through the entrance.
As they attempt to rest, their minds become battlegrounds, haunted by the ghosts of their past. Visions of relentless torment swirl in the air, infiltrating their thoughts, refusing to be silenced. Memories intertwine with their waking moments, suffocating them with a suffocating grip that tightens with each passing breath.
Marc's eyes flutter closed, and the darkness only deepens. He's transported back to the cold, desolate cell where he was imprisoned, his body battered and broken. The metallic clang of chains reverberates through his mind, a symphony of agony that refuses to fade. He can almost taste the acrid stench of despair that permeated the air, suffusing his every pore.
Meanwhile, Cleo drifts into a troubled sleep, her dreams a distorted mirror of her past. She finds herself trapped in a never-ending labyrinth, the walls closing in on her, squeezing the air from her lungs. The echoes of her own screams reverberate, drowning out all reason and hope. The labyrinth twists and turns, an enigma that mocks her every attempt to escape, as if reminding her that her past is inescapable.
Even in their waking moments, the remnants of their traumas claw at their consciousness. The cave walls seem to close in, mirroring the suffocating grip of their memories. Each breath becomes a struggle, as if the air itself has turned against them. The wind outside howls with a haunting melody, whispering secrets of pain and despair.
Cleo still feels the haunting glare of the God fo Death. She feels his hot and ragged breath against her neck, just as Marc feels the weight on his shoulders placed by Khonshu.
All Marc wanted was to be free... and now even his own freedom has been taken from him. He does not know how it's possible. How he could still be under Khonshu's command, after all this time.
Cleo finds slumber once more, her skin glistening with sweat as her chest rises and falls with each breath, whilst Marc is wide away, unable to allow the depths of sleep to consume his mind. His mind is what keeps him awake, his broken and feeble mind that Khonshu found alluring.
" MARC."
The man slowly lifts his head, too tired to move any further. He looks toward the mouth of the cave and sees a figure standing right outside. He wants to cry. He wants to scream and cry and throw up.
" MARC."
He doesn't want to do it. He really doesn't want to, and yet his body moves anyway, walking to the opening of the cave, where he stands side by side with the God of the Moon.
" SURPRISED TO SEE ME?"
" Honestly... no," Marc scoffs, " That deal was too good to be true... I'll never be rid of you."
" YOUR LIFE HAS GREAT PURPOSE WHEN YOU ARE MINE. WITHOUT ME, ALL THAT WOULD BE IS PAIN AND SUFFERING."
" Right, cuz I don't have pain and suffering with you," Marc utters sarcastically.
YOU ARE READING
Control | Moon Knight
FanfictionSteven Grant's life is anything but extraordinary. He wakes up in his flat, feeds his fish, and then heads to work at a museum gift shop. He leaves his mum voicemails everyday, but doesn't seem to ever hear back, aside from postcards. His sleeping h...
