Page 92 of Snatched By the Sandman

The Abyss is a place of endless void, a consuming darkness.

The trees close in around me, their macabre naked branches clawing for me—as if trying to delay me, deny me the opportunity to seek her, find her, stop her.

I battle them until they clear, giving me the horrifying vision of Zenya standing on the brink of the Abyss—its dark, swirling depths shifting for her. She is trembling. I’m in awe of how she is still standing.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Thanatos, Death incarnate, standing straighter than ever, his all-seeing eyes commandingand his all-powerful fist raised. All of me shudders at the sight of an army of reavers crouching behind him.

He is holding them back.

Why?

“My brother told me of your actions, Nyxion,” he proclaims. “And I have come to admire and deeply respect the unconditional love our kind may hold for the soul of a strong woman. You have shown me a depth of devotion that transcends even the laws of Death. So, go, Nyxion. Show her your love. And may she turn her eyes to you and not stare too deep into the Abyss.”

When I turn, my soul freezes. Because she is still—utterly, destructively, deathly still.

Terror strikes me. Because she looks down. And…

…the Abyss whispers to her.

Chapter 33

“I don’t know if I can do this, survive this time…”

ZENYA

“Shattered” by Trading Yesterday

“Would Anyone Care?” by Citizen Soldier

“Creeping in My Soul” by Cryoshell

“Frozen” by Within Temptation

“Carry You” by Ruelle

“Fall For Me” by Sleep Token

“Fall For You” by Secondhand Serenade

“A Reason to Fight” by Disturbed

“Whispers in the Dark” by Skillet

“The End is Where We Begin” by Thousand Foot Krutch

Too much destruction. Too much death.

Infinite darkness mesmerizes me, luring me to forget all the horrors I’ve relived, ones that have haunted me forever. This relentless, unstoppable tide of pain and terror.

The darkness creeps closer, taking on the form of a silhouetted phantom. Tired. So very tired. Tired of beating myself against the mountain, knowing it will never move. Tired of feeling the scars beneath my tattoos. Tired of escaping into adrenaline rushes.

My body feels heavy as if the weight of my past is pulling me into the void, urging me to forget. My lungs burn, my breaths escaping in ghostly tatters. Dread suffocates me, wrapping icy claws around my heart.

Freak. Cursed. Devil’s spawn. Worthless cum dump. Psycho’s little bitch. Abomination.

The mere chip of the iceberg of names they called me, the resurrection of the things they did to me are enough to crush me.

“Come to me, child…”

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