He didn't remember anything. He wracked his brain for answers but none came. Not even a name. He looked around to see others. The lighting too to see any details, except that they all wore the same black outfits. ‘They are my friends,' he thought once he was able to catch the green eyes of one. He looked down to see a long dagger clutched in his hand.
A cross in between a hiss and a gargle sounded. He looked up to see creatures of all shapes and sizes, not mismatched but...different...almost demonic.
Everyone, human and creature alike, started running and he joined in. Daggers flashed all around. His quote ‘friends’ had them, too. Screams of pain from both sides erupted. He hacked at the things, their teeth gnashing, some had claws slicing, others had tentacles grabbing - all trying to get a hold of him.
Most had gone down before one finally got to him, biting into the soft flesh at the base of his pinky. He stabbed the thing in the throat, grimacing. He grabbed his finger to stem the bleeding, none of the things left. His hand burned like fire. Taking his other hand away, he risked look at the finger. To his horror, his pinky started to fall off, only held on by a few strands of muscle.
He bolted upright in his bed, pinky throbbing. He looked at the clock, too early to get up, his pinky still intact. ‘The pain is just the adrenaline tricking my mind,’ he told himself. He also was relieved to find who he was, nothing to do with the dream. ‘It was only a dream,’ he told himself. ’It was only a dream,’ he clung to the thought like a lifeline. ‘Only a dream, only a dream, only a dream.”
He had no idea how wrong he was
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