Alex was deep in sleep, wrapped tightly in a cocoon of his own subconscious, but beneath the surface lay a whirlwind of darkness, swirling and beckoning him into a trap of his worst nightmares. The shadows took shape, revealing faces of people he cared about, who began casting dispersions and rejecting him with bitter words that cut deeper than any blade. It was almost surreal, this world where the familiarity of love twisted into grotesque disdain.
"Mia, please!" he implored, but the words came out as desperate whispers.
Her voice rang out sharply, echoing like a judge's gavel, punctuating his fears. "Tyler and Logan where right, you're a little wimp, Alex! No one will love you! You should just go back to the attic where you belong!" Each syllable felt like a stone weighing him down, each accusation embedding itself into his soul like a poisoned dart. He crumpled under the weight of her disdain, his worthiness challenged by the very people he had once cherished.
Then came Harrold, a disapproving glare etched into his features, mocking him with a horrible laugh. "I can't believe you thought anyone actually cares for you! You'll just be used, like Agatha did with you, and when they're done with you, they'll throw you back to the streets where you belong!" Every word dripped with venom, striking the heart of every insecurity Alex had hidden away. He felt as though the ground was falling from beneath him, unstably veering into an abyss that he couldn't quite grasp.
Sebastian appeared next, his laughter an unsettling sound that reverberated in the dark corners of Alex's mind. "How can I train such a puny little shit like you? No one will take you seriously, so stop wasting everyone's time!" His voice was a harmonious blend of mockery and disdain, amplifying Alex's feelings of inadequacy until they consumed him.
"STOP IT! STOP IT!" Alex screamed, his voice cracking under the weight of his despair. He felt trapped in a cage of shadows, suffocating under the relentless barrage of negativity. Just as the dimension around him swelled with the cruel laughter of his demons, a sinister voice broke through the haze of despair, oily and enticing like a siren's call.
"You need to know your place, Alex! Stop poking your nose where it doesn't belong, or something horrible will happen to you. If you think your life is bad now, you are sorely mistaken!" The voice wrapped around him, an unseen presence binding him tighter than the shadows.
"Who the fuck are you?! What's going on?!" Alex shouted, the panic and rage mingling in his chest. The voice responded, dripping with disdain and amusement. "That's your problem right there, Alex! You don't need to know anything except your place, and your place is to live your pitiful life and then die!"
"Just leave me alone!" he yelled, his feet pounding against the void seemingly stretching forever. Alex ran—heart pounding, lungs burning—as he desperately sought to escape the voice that seemed to echo from the very depths of his soul. But the shadows whispered and taunted, their words seeping into him like poison, binding him to the darkness.
"You can't escape me!" it yelled as he ran, the laughter growing louder, the shadows surging forward in pursuit, creeping closer as tendrils of despair grasped at him."Araziel can't save you Alex!" The voice yelled out. The ground beneath Alex began to shift, an ominous crack echoing through the void that threatened to swallow him whole. No longer sure of where he was running to, Alex felt the earth collapse beneath him and he plummeted into a bottomless looking pit.
Screaming, he plunged into the depths of darkness, spiraling endlessly as memories flared up around him like visions of a never-ending horror show. Flashes of his past engulfed him—moments of pure joy marred by shadows of sorrow, laughter mixed with cries of despair. And then, with a thunderous roar, he saw the ground rushing toward him, swift and unrelenting.
Just as the ground was about to swallow him, he jolted awake, heart racing, drenched in sweat, gasping for breath. The remnants of his nightmare clung to him like a shroud, a sinister aftertaste that left him trembling in the quiet of his room. He glanced around, disoriented, clutching the sheets as he recalled the venomous voices that had pursued him, each word echoing in the silence.
He sat up on the edge of his bed, mind racing. The remnants of the whispers lingered like shadows, clawing at his thoughts, and the question loomed large in his mind: What was that thing and Why did he feel so powerless, trapped in a loop that seemed to taunt him ceaselessly? Doubt crept in, sharp and unwelcome. Maybe Mia was right. Maybe he was destined to remain a coward, unworthy of love or respect. The shadows of his nightmare beckoned, threatening to draw him back into despair.
As he sat there, breathing heavily, he realized he couldn't allow that haunting voice to dictate his reality. The words of Sebastian, Harrold, and Mia weren't truths; they were manifestations. He had to confront them, face them head-on, lest they consume him entirely.
With a steely resolve, he pushed himself to his feet, still shaky but increasingly determined. "Enough," he whispered, shaking off the remnants of sleep and despair. Alex dashed over to his backpack, quickly emptying its contents onto the floor until he found his hoodie, which had been stuffed in the bottom. He yanked it out as if his life depended on it. Once he unfolded it, he reached into the front pocket and exclaimed with joy, "Got it!" with a smile breaking across his face, he pulled his hand out, nestled between his fingers was the shiny angel feather he had been searching for all along.
Grasping the feather tightly in his hand, Alex called out with a commanding voice, "Araziel, I need you now… please answer me!"