Alaric found himself in a world of black... again, the familiar darkness pressing in from all sides, suffocating in its vast emptiness. But this time, something was different. Before he could even register the change, he felt something cold creeping out from the darkness. They slithered over his skin, wrapping themselves around his limbs, his torso and throat. The sensation was vile, if felt like he was getting grabbed at by something cold and wet like the skin of something long dead.
They eventually tightened their grip with an unnatural eagerness, squeezing him tightly against his will. He thrashed against them, but the more he struggled, the harder they squeezed. They seemed too desperate to let him go, pulling him deeper into the void. His vision began to blur, dark spots dancing before his eyes as he felt utterly helpless to stop it.
These nasty limbs kept pulling him down further, covering his face, mouth and eyes. He was being swallowed, sinking into an abyss with no end.
Then, suddenly, a tremor went through them. The limbs began to twitch, their grip loosening, but if just a bit slowly and painfully, they peeled back from his face, just enough to allow him to open his eyes.
When he did, he wished he hadn't.
Above him, hanging in the darkness, were two massive, blood-red orbs, glowing with a sickening light. They weren't suns. They were eyes, monstrous, ancient eyes, filled with a hunger so intense it seemed to burn the air around them. Alaric felt their gaze pierce through him, as though they were peeling away his flesh, layer by layer, seeking something deeper, something hidden within his very soul.
He was completely frozen, unable to do anything but watch.
Those eyes bore into him, widening, as if drooling at the sight of their prey, and he felt their hunger, a desperate, gnawing madness that threatened to consume him whole. The void seemed to pulse with that hunger, throbbing in rhythm with his own racing heartbeat.
He could feel something else too, something beyond the eyes, a presence that lurked just out of sight, a mouth filled with jagged, dripping teeth, opening wide to swallow him whole. The air grew thick with the stench of blood, and he knew, with a bone-deep certainty, where this was going.
Just as he felt the maw closing around him, the void shook violently and a shriek tore through the darkness, the sound so loud it felt like a thousand needles stabbing into his skull. It was a cry of pain and rage.
The tentacles convulsed, writhing as if in agony. Their hold on him slackened, jerking erratically as though trying to pull away, but unable to fully release him. The darkness around him began to shift, the void peeling away like smoke blown apart by a strong wind. The eyes, those terrible red eyes, flickered, their light dimming as they too began to fade, swallowed up by the retreating shadows.
As the last of the blackness melted away, Alaric gasped for breath, his chest heaving as he clawed his way back to consciousness.
He awoke in the healer's room, drenched in cold sweat, his heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst from his chest. The soft glow of the crystals in the room was a stark contrast to the hellish void he had just escaped, but the terror lingered, clinging to him like a second skin.
Alaric lay there, staring up at the ceiling, struggling to shake the image of those eyes.
'Why? Why do I keep having those nightmares?'
Just as he began to question his own sanity, a tired, fatigued voice sounded, filled with relief.
"Thank goodness you're awake."
He slightly raised his head, the scene greeting his eyes was one of utter chaos. The room was turned upside down, and wreckage scattered everywhere, beds and medical equipment were twisted and broken in ways that defied logic, as if gravity itself has a seizure. Standing amidst the mess was Doctor Clayton, looking just as disheveled as the room. Behind him stood two other figures in white, a woman who was half-seated on the ground and out of breath, and a man leaning against one of the destroyed beds
They all looked equally miserable.
Alaric couldn't help but feel a sense of déjà vu at the situation.
"We were able to extract the curse in your brain," Clayton muttered, wiping the sweat from his forehead with a white handkerchief.
"It wasn't a curse spell, but rather a cursed artifact, and a relatively powerful one at that. The moment you lost consciousness, it latched onto your brain, and was trying to devour it. But thankfully, I was able to hold it at bay long enough for my two associates to rush in and expel the evil within."
As he spoke, Clayton pointed toward a table not far from them. Lying there, stained in blood and bits of brain matter, was a golden pendant. It looked worn out and lifeless, its luster extinguished.
"It must have been left on you by the assailant who harmed you earlier."
Alaric's eyes stayed glued on it. That pendant looked too familiar yet strange at the same time.
Wasn't it the very one he'd worn all his life, the one that had been with him in his final moments before the angel had killed him?!
'I know it had one hidden ability to save a lost soul from oblivion, but…'
He stared at it, frozen, a deep chill running down his spine.
If he had any lingering doubts about the horrific reality of his rebirth, they were now utterly shattered.
And what was that about it trying to devour him? That monstrous abomination from his dream. That's the thing that gave him this second chance at life, but now it tried to devour him… but failed.
'A cursed artifact will always remain a thing of misfortune, I guess.'
He was lost in thought when the doctor interrupted.
"Tell me, do you feel any lingering pain or abnormalities?"
Alaric remained silent for a moment, still staring at the pendant, before finally answering.
"No. I feel much better now. Thanks to you."
The doctor watched him with uncertain eyes, clearly doubting his words, but eventually sighed and let it go.
"Alright, but watch your health closely. Report to a specialist if you experience anything out of the ordinary. You're free to go."
The two assistants were already leaving the room as cleaners entered to begin repairing the damage. Clayton turned to leave as well but stopped when Alaric spoke.
"That artifact over there... may I keep it?"
Clayton turned, surprised by the request.
"You do know it's cursed, right?"
Alaric shrugged.
"Yes, but it's lost its host. It's just an empty husk now, right?"
The doctor stared at him, at a loss for words. After a few seconds, he finally asked.
"Why?"
"Consider it a memento. A souvenir from battle."
Clayton hesitated but eventually relented with a sigh.
"Alright. But we'll need to run a few tests to ensure it's truly harmless, if it does check out then… I suppose you can keep it."
For the very first time in a long while, Alaric finally managed a smile for once after all the hell he's been out through.
"Alright."
A/N: Hey guys, now that our boy here can finally catch a break for once, why don't you tell me what you think about the list of events so far? Your thoughts are what matters to me to keep on getting better, so let me know in the comments. Happy reading!