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In A World Where Magic Is In English

RumiusDaylight
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Synopsis
Rumius was reaching the end. He lay in his hospital bed, the city lights flashing like a disco outside his window. Then he died. Fast forward to the future, he is now thrust into a world completely unknown to him. Magic, check. Monsters? Check. Ethics? Fuck, what’s that? His new world was brutal and terrifying yet somehow, god had seen it fit to give him an unusual gift. He would not have to memorise spells yet still use them. He would not have to read and study yet still know everything there is to know. He would be an ordinary genius of unmatched ability. And why? Because magic in this world was in English.
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Chapter 1 - The Dream

It was dark, was the first thing I noticed before I sat up.

" Oh..it's the same dream again." Was the second.

I could see the light, dim and weak. As if shining through a translucent fabric reached out desperately against the darkness from a row of small pillars no bigger than a finger.

They stood shakily in their little circle , white wax running down their surfaces as the heat of the flame they hoisted above their heads burned away their porcelain skin. 

In the centre of the circle was a kneeling woman, her body, covered by robes as white as the candles around her was curled up in a fetal position, her knees pressed against her bosom as she muttered furiously.

The rasping and heavy intonations of the tongue was bone chilling and uncomfortable, as if every word spoken grinded a razor against every bone in my body.

As usual I could do nothing but watch. 

I looked around, somewhat squinting my eyes to see more clearly in the gloomy chamber until I noticed a group of men standing near the periphery of the room. 

'Sure enough, there they were again. ' i thought to myself. ' Yup, same dream.'

A circle of men stood in a rough semi circle around the kneeling lady. Some had tall statures and well toned muscles while some were the opposite, lanky and thin. Yet despite their differences in appearance, the one thing that they had in common were clothes. Every one of them was well dressed. And not just well dressed, very well dressed.

From the overall of the garments down to its tiniest details, the clothes oozed of class. They gave off the same feeling of prestige one would feel when one carried a branded bag or hat, or when one walked into one of those eminent establishments that sold such goods.

' Man, what I'd give to be in one of those, must feel nice. ' I subconsciously felt a tinge of envy but shrugged it off quickly. It wasn't my first time seeing this scene, so why was I envious?

Besides, don't I have better things to do? Perhaps find out why I had to keep suffering through the same strange dream repeatedly for the past few weeks?' 

Actually no, not particularly.

' Maybe my years are catching up to me..' I mused. ' It's probably just another one of those sleep paralysis attacks or something. I sat down disinterestedly, waiting for the drama to unfold. 

It didn't take long for the woman in the centre to start jerking violently, shaking and quivering uncontrollably as her back arched upwards at an unnatural angle. Her bone-like fingers clawed at her throat, leaving behind red tracks. Her eyes were a porcelain white, as if they had clouded over by a mist or cloud and, saliva overflowed from her mouth as a choking sound filled the room. 

However, any feeling of panic or discomfort that would be native to such a situation was tamed by jaded experience.

This dream always ended this way. The woman would kneel, start choking then blackscreen, as if it all was a crappy trailer from a horror movie. Thinking back, the first few times in the dream, I really had panicked. The next few times I had tried to help but it would always end the same way.

" I'm too old for this crap. Can't wait to wake up already."

" Really should listen to the kids and sleep earlier."

The choking sound continued on still as I waited. And waited. And waited in a silence my mind that seemed to stretch on for an unbearably long time.

' Something is different?' The thought was just subconscious, a natural instinct of the human body that stemmed from impatience for having to wait too long for something one expected to happen. But it was in fact much longer than usual. It felt that way. Like as if the lady in the middle was taking much longer to kick the bucket. 

Then, it happened.

I thought my eardrums would burst from the scream that escaped her lips as I jumped to my feet as if tazered by an eel. Pressing my hands to my ears, my body squeezed as hard as it could to shut out the terrible noise that seemed to seep into my very core and devour my soul. 

'My chest feels heavy.' My eyes widen as I realised that I was gasping for air. As if every breath drew in less and less life but exhaled more and more. 

The woman was still screaming and regardless on the pressure I put into my arms, the sound would seep through like water through a leaky tap.

' Stop.'

' stop it '

' STOP!!! MAKE IT STOP!!!'

The woman was still screaming, her howl was bone chillingly shrill and high pitched but also horrifyingly dissonated, like a cursed wail. A human wail.

" STOP IT!!!!" 

I don't remember if I had actually shouted the words out loud. But I remembered my ears ringing. The type of ringing that one would hear after having after accidentally turning the volume on your headphones too high up, or suddenly having the microphone in your hand go berserk and start trying to kill your eardrums. 

The shouting…had stopped.

I looked up, just in time to see the woman's kneeling posture collapse and her frail body crumple with a dull thud. The thought of stepping forward to help didn't even cross my mind which was nothing more than a blank void in that moment. I thought nothing, heard nothing, could do nothing. 

But just as the ringing faded out, i clearly heard:

" He's coming." 

A feeble sound had left the woman's mouth. 

" He's coming." 

Then, everything went black and I woke up.