Black tendrils that felt as cold as ice wrapped around his frame, pulling him deeper into the void. Their cold touch stung his body wherever they thouched. Demian writhed, trying to free himself to no avail.
Why? Why was he back in this place?
The past couple of weeks had been more or less peaceful, with nary a nightmare. So why was he in this black space, being pulled into that terrifyingly empty void.
"No!" His voice tore out of his mouth, only to be swallowed by the endless emptiness. "Let me go!"
The more he writhed, the tighter the tendrils became. They snaked up his body, slowly covering all of him.
Demian awoke with a gasp, sweat pouring down his face and back. He laid there in the dark, panting heavily.
It was too dark.
On shaky legs, he clamored out of bed. His heart raced erratically and his breath was hard to catch.
