the dream

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crooked muse; gregory alan isakov

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bambam.

he just couldn't seem to escape the whispering.

bambam.

it was dark, too dark to see anything, too dark to feel anything. the feeling has returned in bambam's hands and he was grasping around blindly, trying to find something to lean on. his legs were extremely weak—any moment now and gravity would push him to the ground and crush him. the power of the darkness around him was overwhelming. it blinded him and sent searing pains up his joints. he just couldn't seem to escape the pain of his past, could he?

bambam.

the voice was pressing and familiar. it was an echoing shout, as if coming from somewhere far away. he whipped his head around, looking for any sign of light. he felt completely lost in this place.

come to me, child.

the dark lifted and bambam was standing in a misty wood, the fog curling around his knees and hissing at the earth. he looked forward and saw a woman standing there holding a lantern.

she had skin so dark it was like looking at the night sky with the little white freckles dotting her cheeks and shoulders. she was dressed in a silk cloak that billowed around her feet, and a crown of thorns sat on her white head of hair. she met bambam's gaze and her purple painted lips stretched into a smile.

he knew immediately who it was. they had met before, seven weeks earlier on the night that had changed bambam's entire life. cybele.

i said come hither, child.

bambam obeyed without meaning to. his legs felt like jello as he walked across the small clearing to where she stood. she held the lantern to his face, as if to make sure she was talking to the right person. she nodded her approval and turned, using a finger to beckon bambam to follow.

they walked through the wood for what felt like hours. bambam's mind was frozen, staying on one thought and one thought only; the memory of cybele standing over his mother with a golden glow emitting from her hands.

it occurred to bambam that cybele might be waiting for him to speak. they didn't seem to be going anywhere in particular.

"do we have a destination?", bambam asked. cybele glanced at him over her shoulder, simply shrugging.

it depends what you're looking for.

what was he looking for? bambam didn't know.

"do you know what i'm supposed to be looking for?", he asked. cybele gave him a knowing smile, and the edges of bambam's vision began to turn black.

that's for you to find out.

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sorry for the short chapter! (447 words)

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