Page 59 of Presence

I am in the dreamscape. Or at least, that’s what it’s supposed to be. Instead, it feels like a land of nightmares. The air buzzes with an electric hum, like thousands of cold needles prickling my skin. The presence is everywhere, surrounding me, inside me. It fills my lungs with every breath and brushes against my skin with every move. It listens to the thoughts echoing in my mind.

The moss under my feet is damp, squishing between my toes as I stand among the tall trees. I’m in the rainforest—the one near the waterfall.

What is happening?

The last thing I remember is standing in the salt circle, Raven and Camilla by my side. Pain pierced through me so fiercely my vision blurred. Then, I heard Echo’s voice. I let him in. I surrendered all control.

No, no, no. Why did I do that?!

Panic grips me.

From the beginning, in that jazz-filled café, he showed me everything I thought I wanted. He made me feel like a normal woman, worthy of the guy of my dreams, going on a date like any ordinary person. He gave me that. But then, he sent his shadows to scare me, to make me dependent on him. He made me feel powerless just to offer himself as the solution, to let him breach my walls. How could I have given myself to him like that?

I wasn’t thinking clearly. It wasn’t me. He manipulated me. He tricked me.

But it’s too late now. I’m in the dreamscape already. In a trap. A prison made just for me.

Yet, I’m not alone in here. I have a jailor, and he stands in front of me.

“You’re finally here, my Little Soul,” he says, his voice distorted. The smooth, buttery tone from the dreamscape is now layered with the sinister one he used in the dark. “Oh, it feels like forever since I last felt you here.”

Shadows blanket the forest, and he lurks among them. I stare at his broad, pale back with shadows curling around his legs. I don’t see his face, only the valleys and crannies of his muscled back. His face is turned away, his pitch-black hair ruffled at the back of his head.

“Echo?” I whisper, my voice trembling. “Is that… you?”

I’m scared. I’m terrified. I’m powerless. I hate being powerless.

Cold air seeps between the trees, making the branches sway high in the canopies. They rustle to the beat of my heart. I just stare at him. He’s not my protector, not a spirit, but something sinister.

A demon.

“Of course, it is me,” he says.

He turns his head slightly, just enough for me to glimpse his profile, a sliver of that familiar but twisted smile. He looks... different. His cobalt blue eyes are now completely black, the whites vanished entirely.

My stomach churns.

“What… What do you want from me?” I whisper.

“What do I want from you?” he repeats, his voice echoing through the dreamscape like rustling leaves above us. “Isn’t it obvious? I want you. All of you.”

No, no, no. His words sound sweet, almost romantic, but the meaning is twisted and dark. The way he says it, it’s like… like he hates me. Like he wants to break me. Like he wants me to suffer.

I want to step back, to flee, but my legs betray me. All I can do is stand there, trembling.

“You tricked me,” I whisper. “You lied to me.”

He takes a deep breath, clearly annoyed with me. “Did I really? You can tell yourself otherwise, but deep down, you knew. Every night you spent in bliss, every breath you gave to me, you knew what I was. Part of you was scared of me right up until the end, even though you tried to fight it. I took that fear and wove it into your soul. I gave you exactly what you wanted.”

A chill runs down my spine, his words filling me with dread. My body feels like trapped in ice, every muscle frozen.

“Little by little, you kept giving yourself to me. You wanted me,” he continues. “From the very first moment you felt my gaze upon you...” He turns fully, shadows swirling around him like living extensions of his essence. “All you ever craved was an escape. And that’s exactly what I gave you, isn’t it?”

My heart drops like a stone, pure fear making it feel like a crashing meteor. Right in front of me, his hair starts growing. His fingers stretch out, and his nails become deadly claws. Darkness spreads over his skin, turning his hands as black as night. His teeth sharpen into vicious points. Ancient-looking tattoos cover his ghostly white skin, blending with the black of his hands and legs, turning him into something I can hardly recognize.

I gasp, unable to look away, as a black tongue slips out of his mouth, sliding over needle-sharp teeth and his shiny black lips. He tilts his head, fixing his gaze right on me.

He’s watching me. He’s always watching me.

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