My first attempt at multi-chaptered fanfiction. I wrote the beginning of the Prologue some time ago and even posted it at ‘hug’, seeking for the advice. Since it got relatively positive comments, it was revised and continued. I hope to update at least once a week, but right now due to my finals it may be not very often. And remember that the feedback will prompt me to write more :3
And yes, no feedback will be considered as a hint that my attempt was unsuccessful and the fic will not be continued.
p.s. And since I have already finished the first chapter it will be posted
soon after I revise it and write at least half of the second chapter – I like
to work in advance ;)
Every night he was running up the dark stairs. Every night his heart was pounding with the fear and exhaustion, and something so much like desperation. Every night he could feel his heart make an unexpected leap, when he finally reached the metal door. Every night it was covered with the same strange red and black graffiti, which he failed to decipher. Every night it would open before him and he would step onto the roof.
And every night it would be dark outside, the sky – a bottomless void adorned by the stars, and the wind would be strong and piercing. And every night he would see somebody in a distance, a dark silhouette barely visible in the darkness, standing at the very edge of the roof. And every night he would hear soft words spoken to him, “Why wouldn’t you join me?” And every night he would wake up sweating and crying, disoriented and lost, trying to find a name for the feeling that was gripping his heart.
But this night everything was different. Reaching the door, he noticed that the pattern was more prominent, more visible, as if carved. The graffiti looked more like words now, but he failed to recognize the language. Wind was stronger outside, pulling at his clothes with the invisible fingers. And suddenly, in a blink, he was standing much closer than usual to the strange figure. He watched the edges of the black clothes flap, the wind playing with the strands of dark hair.
And then it turned its pale face to him, he thought his heart would stop, overwhelmed, when he was sinking in those fathomless orbs.
Why wouldn’t you join me?
He woke up with a cry. His heart was choking him, his chest heaving. The sheets unpleasantly stuck to his sweating body. His thoughts were fluttering like butterflies; the stranger’s face imprinted on the back of his eyelids. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the face that made his throat run dry and his heart skip a bit. The sole coherent kept ringing in his head like a broken record.
Who are you?
//
He was walking down the street, occasionally draping the coat tighter around himself against the chillness of the late October. In his mind the pieces of the last night’s dream were flashing. He was walking, his face frozen in a deep frown. It had been a month since this dream started haunting him every night. And every night those were the feelings of hopelessness and fear and something else – but he couldn’t tell exactly what. Every evening he tried to somehow delay the moment when he had to go to bed. For many hours he would lie in the bed staring at the ceiling, willing his eyes to stay open. But eventually they would close and he would be plunged into the vertigo of the images once again.
He tried sleeping pills. He tried going out and clubbing all night. He tried to drown all his dreams in alcohol, each time waiting for a drunken oblivion only to be tortured by the nightmares far worse than the usual one. He could find no rest. Even midday naps were forbidden to him. Each time he felt his eyelids grow heavy and slowly start to close as the sleep approached bearing the frightful images, he snapped his eyes wide open, shivering and scolding at himself for dropping down his guard.
Every day and every night he fought a hopeless battle with this dream, and every day and every night he was cursed to lose.
He was generally considered to be a joyful and amiable youth, but even a happiest person was doomed to lose some of the “glitter”, being forced to almost no rest. He quickly became snappish, and soon found being avoided even by some of his closest friends. He started dozing off during the lectures, which had never happened before, and his grades threatened to go downhill, if he didn’t do anything about it soon.
But what could he do? He thought if he should consult a doctor. But what remedy a doctor could offer him that would save him from this dream? The nightmare had no connection with the past days’ events or anything else that could have emerged from his sub-consciousness. There was nothing to tell to a psychologist – no hidden phobias or suppressed desires, no traumatic experiences. In fact, his life before had been so unspectacular, plain and even boring, that he sometimes thought that he had to be grateful for finally having something that made his days different from the days of the rest of the world.
He sighed and stopped. Looking up at the grey sky, which threatened to become dark very quickly, he searched it for any answers – but he knew that it was futile. All the answers were in his head, in that dream that kept returning night after night. And he knew that no soul could help him.
Except for himself.
~*~
to be continued