'Consciousness is an end in itself. We torture ourselves getting somewhere, and when we get there it is nowhere, for there is nowhere to get to,' - D. H. Lawrence.
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NEVER TO CRY WOLF. That's what they tell you. Don't cry wolf, don't lie, and don't deceit or you won't be believed when it truly counts. One thing they don't tell you though is when you think something happens and it doesn't, doesn't mean it won't be true the next time. Sometimes it isn't about lying to others but to lying to yourself.
I desperately wish for this to be another time of when the atoms in my body vibrate with self-imagined horror. I wish for the shadows emerging to be just that; shadows, to be figments of my imagination.
I wish for the growls and warnings to be echoes of my nightmares.
I wish for the illuminating eyes to be the judgement haunting my thoughts.
I wish for the man materializing before me to be a remnant of an old life.
I wish for it, yet, my mind doesn't seem to listen.
"Well..." he steps into the clearing, his features obscured from me by avoiding the taunting moonlight, however as he sweeps his eyes across the scene, I see how the dancing glow cast an even more horrid shade to his florid eyes.
"This is surely a surprise." His drawl sends spikes down my back, and a gasp gets caught in my throat as I take an involuntary step back, only to hear growls coming closer from behind.
I don't know what's more frightening, the fact that he seems infatuated with the fact that I'm alive or tone that indicates he's been waiting for this moment.
A part of me wants to scream for him having set his eyes on me. I was nothing more than discardable to Lunar Noctis and yet I can see the torment he has dreamt of putting me through in his eyes. But I also know why.
"Seize her," he doesn't offer more as he with a sort of finality waves his hand, already turning to leave the clearing again.
The way Emory jerks around makes me panic and I stumble backwards.
I can't fantom the look on his face as my body moves away from him on its own accord. A part of me recognizes he isn't the one acting out the orders, but just as then I see him not acting at all.
Just like back then. It's the same.
I pry my gaze away from his paralyzed features only to be blinded by white for a second as I will my body to run, however I don't get far before large strong hands chain me.
Their fingers remind me of the thick punishing branches from my dreams as they dig into my skin mercilessly. The way they force me down, ordering me to be obedient has me staggering, and I try to fling myself away from the brute force. I let out a helpless scream as one hand snakes around my throat, however I'm not even given that as everything abruptly falls to darkness giving me no other choice than to follow.
