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Soul Wars

~~{ WSA Beginners Entry 2025}~~ After a disagreement with his brother, Ahriman left the house and headed toward his sister Sugar’s apartment. However, he never made it there. The taxi he was in got into a serious accident with a carrier truck, landing him in the hospital. The doctors, still baffled, called it a miracle that he had survived—but that wasn’t the only strange thing. Before waking up in the hospital, Ahriman had a vivid and bizarre dream. He saw strange, almost unreal things. When he finally came to, he noticed the doctors acting oddly, and even he himself felt different—like something was off. Yet, due to his detached personality, which led him to ignore anything that didn’t directly cause problems in his life, he chose to brush it off and be grateful for his second chance at life. But fate had other plans. That very night, Ahriman started experiencing vivid nightmares. He saw eerily realistic places—places that seemed real, yet were inhabited by grotesque, shadowy creatures. Strangely enough, they ignored him entirely. But what disturbed him even more was waking up in the morning feeling completely unrested, as if he hadn’t slept at all. Even after recovering from his accident, the cycle of dreams persisted, gradually wearing him down. His sleep deprivation became apparent in his body, yet he had no choice but to continue his daily routine—attending college, working his part-time job, and simply trying to function despite his exhaustion. Then, something even stranger happened. In one of his vivid dreams, he encountered a human woman—something that had never happened before. Before he could make sense of it, the dream abruptly ended. His alarm woke him up. I heard it faintly at first—a soft ding-dong cutting through the silence. As it grew louder, the metallic chime seemed to vibrate in my chest, lingering in the still air and pulling my attention toward it. My hands moved involuntarily, silencing the sound. I felt groggy. My body was heavy, my mind still hazy, lingering with a soft, rhythmic thumping. It was already eight-thirty—exactly when I had set my alarm—but I didn’t feel like getting up. Without opening my eyes, I considered sleeping a little longer. Why does my body feel so heavy? And what is this soft thing lying on top of me? Suddenly, memories rushed back into my mind. My eyes shot open. The familiar white-painted ceiling came into view. My room. I exhaled deeply in relief. The dream I had today… It was terrifying in so many ways. The more I thought about it, the more a strange feeling crept up on me. I couldn’t explain it, but— “I feel like beating the shit out of someone,” I muttered. As I stared blankly at the ceiling, a soft, fair hand suddenly touched my face. A hand? Slowly, I moved my gaze downward. “Huh—Haah!” Before I knew it, the words slipped from my mouth. Lying near my stomach, as if peacefully asleep, was the mysterious masked woman. But maybe it was just a hallucination. Because in the very next moment—she vanished. From that day forward, his condition worsened. His nightmares didn’t just haunt his sleep anymore—they began bleeding into his waking reality. His already confused, exhausted mind started to crack under the pressure, pushing him closer to the edge. Until, a week later, she appeared before him again—this time, undeniably real."
inzi · 3.4K Views

Room 208

The air hung heavy with unspoken anxieties as Iris walked the sterile hospital corridors. A year. It had been a year since she’d received the devastating news: Iñigo, her beloved boyfriend, was dead. The pain still felt raw, a constant ache in her chest. She'd mourned him fiercely, the void his absence left echoing in her heart. Little did she know, the truth was far more complicated, twisted by a mother's disapproval and a desperate attempt to keep them apart. Iñigo’s mother, a woman whose disapproval Iris had always felt like a cold wind, had whisked him away to the States, a calculated move to sever their connection. She’d believed that distance, the vast expanse of the ocean, would be enough to erase Iris from Iñigo's life. But fate, it seemed, had other plans. Dr. Millie’s voice, crisp and professional, broke through Iris’s somber thoughts. "Iris, you're assigned to assist the patient in Room 208. He was recently transferred from the U.S.A." The doctor handed her the file. Iris took it mechanically, her mind already racing. The familiar chill that always accompanied thoughts of Iñigo's mother settled over her. This was no coincidence. A strange premonition tightened its grip on her, a knot of dread forming in her stomach. She felt a cold dread creeping up her spine. As she approached Room 208, a wave of nausea washed over her. She hesitated, her hand trembling as she reached for the door handle. A deep breath, a silent prayer, and then—she opened the door. The sight that greeted her stole the breath from her lungs. There he was, pale but undeniably Iñigo, lying in the hospital bed. Time seemed to stop. The world dissolved into a dizzying blur of disbelief and overwhelming emotion. A strangled gasp escaped her lips. He was alive. The carefully constructed wall of grief she’d built around her heart crumbled. A torrent of emotions – shock, relief, disbelief, and a bitter taste of betrayal – flooded her. All the pain, the tears, the emptiness… all for nothing? The file slipped from her numb fingers, landing silently on the floor. He was alive, and his mother had lied.
Yxenni · 2.4K Views
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