Suddenly opening my eyes, I realized I was isolated in a sea of red blood.
A scene painted in gory hues. Darkness swallowed everything and a deathly silence prevailed. The carpet was stained red by extinguished life, a sea of crimson blood stretching endlessly. Swirled around the figure, a spectral white cloak, adorned with arcane symbols.
"...Is anyone there?..."
My feeble voice reverberated through the emptiness, only to be met with an eerie silence.
With each ponderous step, I trudged through the unknown. The water below rippled gently with each step. The pungent smell of blood was overwhelming, causing a feeling of revulsion.
"...Is anyone here..."
An unseen terror gripped me as a mournful whimper broke the tranquility. A stifled sob, as fragile as a sorrowful tune. My eyes darted around, trying to find a figure.
But all there was, was an encompassing darkness.
From the corner of my eye, I was startled to glimpse the silhouette of a white wolf thrashing about in a pool of blood, its breaths coming in ragged gasps. Stood still from a distance, my gaze unwavering as I watched. The once immaculate white fur was marred by the crimson stain. The wolf lay motionless, a tableau of quietude broken only by the rasp of its dying breath. A hoarse moan escaped from the depths of its chest. Its mouth moved soundlessly, forming no words. With each labored gasp, its head rose higher, bloodshot eyes piercing me with a desperate plea.
Every minor sound seemed to echo in the stillness. My pulse quickened with each hesitant step forward. Its blood-soaked muzzle twisted into a snarl, revealing sharp fangs and eyes that seemed to implore. Strangely, as if sensing my presence, the creature forced itself onward. Its claws scraping desperately at the water as it continuously muttered meaningless sounds.
A chilling dread washed over me as I faced it. Paralyzed, my eyes riveted on the pathetic figure.
The creature was trying to say something, but the words were stuck in its throat. The guttural sounds that escaped were terrifying.
"...Blo..od...bl..o..od...curs...ed-bl..ood..."
Its mouth gaped open as it struggled to utter a sound. But its tongue. Missing. It couldn't speak.
A painful roar suddenly ripped through the air. Startled, I recoiled in horror.
From the crimson depths, bony claws tore through the surface, grasping the wolf like iron clamps, seizing it in a deadly embrace. The creature clawed frantically at the water, its body convulsing in a desperate struggle. Its mouth stretched wide, revealing a mouthful of fangs as sharp as needles. Like a shock, the searing pain ripped through my skin as icy fangs plunged into my calf, causing me to cry out in horror.
"LET GO! DAMM IT?! LET GO OF ME!!!"
Staggering, I collapsed, my body skidding across the blood-soaked ground. In a panic, I thrashed my remaining foot, pounding relentlessly on its head. But its mouth, full of fangs, still clamped onto my left leg, threatening to grind it into splinters. Wailing in anguish, my body flailed in the water. Bony claws raked at the wolf, tearing into its body, drawing blood as they tried to drag it down into the abyss.
Cold water flooded my lungs, drowning me in a wave of terror. Screamed in despair, my desperate pleas were drowned out by the crimson tide as I tried to reach the flickering glow. Blood, the metallic taste, rushed into my nose, thick with the smell of decay and death. The light above faded into oblivion as I was dragged deeper into the solitude of the abyss.
Tears mingled with bubbles, eventually bursting, taking the last wisp of hope with them.
.
.
A throbbing pain shot through my body as I snapped awake from the haze. Gasping for breath, I ran my hands over my body, terrified by what had just happened. Relieved, I realized it was all just a dream. A horrible nightmare. But the lingering stench of blood still clung to my clothes. And the pain, like a consuming fire burning from within, felt so real.
I must have dozed off at some point, nestled among the piles of documents. As the last of the work was done, night had begun to yield to dawn.
Three hours flew by in a blink, not enough to completely erase my fatigue but sufficient to restore a bit of energy.
Recently, the frequency of attacks has decreased significantly. The iron gate has remained peaceful for a few days. Fortunately, in this rare time, no one has had to suffer further loss or pain. Just another routine day of inventorying the armory and assisting with general tasks around the main tower. But the haunting images from last night's terrifying ordeal kept creeping into my mind.
Instead of concentrating on my notes, I found myself unconsciously doodling sketches of a wolf. The creature was enormous, far larger than any ordinary one. With blood-red eyes, its white fur stained with crimson, accentuating its sharp, misaligned fangs like razors. But what made it truly terrifying was its gaping maw, completely lacking a tongue.
Could that strange dream be a sign of something. Or perhaps it is just a figment of an exhausted mind.
After a quick dinner, I collapsed into the chair, wracked with exhaustion. On the table, the pristine white morphine crystals lay, glistening under the light, ready to be used. Gently gathering them together, wrapping it in a delicate sheet of rice paper, slightly moistened the glue line, I rolled the paper into a slender cylinder, shaping it into a cigarette. With a lighter in hand, I quietly left the tent.
Darkness enveloped the camp in a stillness. Winter here, the stars are rarely seen. Gloomy grey clouds hung low in the sky, casting a mournful shadow over the landscape. The flickering flames danced over the smoldering logs, giving off warm glow that chased away the winter chill.
With a flick of my wrist, I ignited the cigarette. Taking a deep breath, the morphine surged through my veins, inducing an indescribable euphoria. The catalyst made me a little drowsy, but it also washed away the pain and weariness, leaving me feeling more tranquil than I have in ages.
Morphine is an analgesic of the opium family, a component of sedatives. Compared to other opiates, its adverse effects are likely to be the least severe. While not entirely safe, proper usage can minimize the risk of chronic addiction. What I often prepare for the deputy commander is heroin, a highly addictive and commonly abused opioid. Primarily synthesized from morphine and other compounds, it's often extracted into cigarette form as a disguise. While opium is a banned substance, tobacco is widely circulated throughout the empire. The royal family had carefully weighed both the financial gains and ethical implications.
There are some more toxic substances that I have heard of, like Ecstasy, Lysergic acid, and Ketamine. There is no information about their origin or effects, and no records exist to provide any clues. Here, they are considered potent poisons.
With another deep inhale, I could feel my pupils shrinking. A numbing sensation spread throughout my body, dulling all my senses.
I began my morphine use two years ago. At first, it was a tool to keep me grounded, to stay connected to reality. Having weighed up all the risks, I still decided to use them. Every few months, as a last resort, when the pain becomes unbearable.
With every inhale, the icy bite of the north wind seemed to thaw a little. As I stared blankly into the fire, the flames flickered and danced, their glow seeming to whisper something.
The sweet morphine, a slow poison, was corrupting me from within.
As I gazed down at the cigarette still burning between my fingers, I couldn't help but question myself.
"Seriously, are you using drugs again?"
Jolted awake from the delusional state, I met Eric's gaze. His face, etched with worry, was a clear reflection of his troubled mind.
Eric Halcyon, an ordinary civilian, was suddenly swept into the maelstrom of war. He was conscripted and became part of a special forces unit. They say he hails from Almira, a faraway land, ruled by the Delwyn family. A noble territory not far from the capital. Eric has been here quite a while before me, about a year or two. He doesn't talk much about himself, all I know about him is that he was once a proficient blacksmith.
Eric is not only my first friend but also the closest brother I could ask for in this place. He is someone I can confide in about anything. Or at least, in this hellhole, he is one of the few who still has a kind heart.
Stammered, uttering fragmented sounds that didn't form complete sentences. My cognitive abilities seemed to slow down during the delirium.
"...It's not opium...it's morphine...that kind of painkiller?..."
With a sudden jerk, he abruptly snatched the cigarette from my hand and tossed it into the flames.
"...What are you doing?..."
"Don't use it anymore. You know how harmful it is"
"...I told you it's not...it's just a sedative, morphine...a milder one. I only use it once every few months, what's wrong with that..."
With another annoyed shake of his head, he gave me a pre-cut slice of apple. In a daze, I slowly brought it to my lips and took a small bite. The sweetness of the fruit felt like coarse sand. It was such an odd sensation.
"It's made from the poppy plant. Although I don't know much about medicine but it's obvious that the empire has a reason for banning the trade of this plant''
"...I can't sleep, my whole body aches. Normal drugs...can't help relieve the pain. Morphine is the most effective...just one cigarette won't be enough to cause addiction..."
"A few cigarettes over a few years is a big deal. Don't try to justify your actions. Honestly, why do you even use them? Aren't you afraid you'll go mad?"
Maddness?
Where is the dividing line between sanity and insanity. Are those who don't conform to the norm always considered mad. Or are they just original minds that society misjudges. In the end, aren't we all just trying to fit into a world that's already full of oddities.
''In this place, madness is inevitable...what's there to worry about?"
Dragging myself upright, I stretched slightly then turned my weary eyes towards him.
"I just want to get out of here...Can you take me with you when you go on missions? I've always wanted to..."
A subtle sadness permeated the air. The silence was heavy, broken only by the intermittent crackle of the burning logs.
"You know it's impossible... Even I can't escape this place..."
The North wind carries the first chill of the season. Quietly sit beside the small fire, the crackling of the firewood sounds like a sad melody. Despite the fire's comforting glow, a cold emptiness persisted within me. The howling wind, a mournful dirge, pierced the stillness of the night. Wisps of smoke ascended, gradually dissipating into the frigid night.
Endless worries about life keep circling.