Camp Onism | Hermitcraft AU

Chapter Seven: Prophecies Suck

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"NO-"

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False woke up in a dream. The sky was a shade of grey. She still felt like she was falling, but she was standing up straight. Faint screams buzzed in her ears.

This isn't the afterlife. It sure isn't. False knew it. She was still breathing. She could feel herself walking. But it was like she was in a dream.

The sensation of plummeting halted to a stop.

A figure appeared in the distance.

A college aged boy stood emotionless in the grey mist. His face was scarred with a slash shaped distinctively like the letter "x". He was carrying a blood red helmet under one arm. He looked vaguely like Xisuma, but with a more dark color scheme.

False didn't think the boy noticed her. He didn't portray any emotion on his face whatsoever. But she could spot out a small look of regret on his face.

A voice rang out.

"Egra Xavier . . . you couldn't save me?"

It sounded like a female's. And oddly familiar.

The echoing sound like a swish of a cloak was heard from the distance. The once monotone sky turned royal gold and purple.

"Xavier" turned toward it. Wherever "it" may be.

"I don't want you here, Braid! Where's X? Is he safe-?"

X . . .

That name sounded very familiar to False. And there was only one person in Camp Onism that she knew of, who's name starts with an "X".

But why would Xavier ask that?

"Braid" sighed. False couldn't see her sigh, but she could just feel it.

"He's in the hands of Bad Times. And soon, your own kind will destroy you and those Verum Indagator."

As if by magic -no, majik, a fragment of the grey sky formed into the figure of a woman. A deep violet cloak covered most of her body, and a white cresent moon mask covered her eyes and forehead, only her twisted grin left showing.

Braid stared right into False's eyes, as she aimed a knife from her long sleeve at Xavier.

False's vision dimmed again.

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"A camp shall find what's needed most.

A haven, but they need a host.

Stray away from the very main plot.

And soon find that a destroyed commitee isn't very pretty.

At the end, find the lost dream.

Or else be buried in screams . . ."

False snapped awake.

And she knew that she just witnessed a prochecy.

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~407 words~