Page 106 of Snatched By the Sandman

ZENYA

“Hold On” by Sebastian Erkstrand

“Praying” by Kesha

Ilinger in the recesses of my mind—on the border of the thin veil.

Emotion wells up inside me as Eclipse begins to weave, drawing the essence of my tattoos from the left side of her body. I know now how I sought her with every needle I wrote upon my skin.

The ink of skulls, dead roses, and serpents thrum into the dark space between our hands—like a black and lustrous orb.

I remember the first time I entered a tattoo shop. One second I was standing on the street near the hospital after I’d healed from the nightmare in the woods. The next second it seemed I’d entered the shop.

Tears sting my throat as I consider my very first tattoo, one hidden so well, no one but myself could see it. So far up at theatlas of the spinal cord with all the roots of those sharp nerve endings. The artist needed to shave that small section of my hair that day.

Let the eclipse stay…I softly plead to my dark protector, considering the dark circle and the bright outline of pure gold surrounding it with an eight-pointed half-sun shining at its side.

A pause where I hear the skip of my heartbeat.

Wouldn’t dream of doing otherwise.

I smile, overwhelmed as the warm, fuzzy feeling takes over—like cotton fluff, but my senses still tingle with the awareness of my palms moving, fingers curling to weave. Rib cages, blood drops, pills, and other grimdark and splatterpunk elements seem to pulse and flow, swirling together in a mesmerizing dance of darkness.

My heart pounds in her chest, each beat reminding me of the gravity of our unified force, the magic we all share, and how much we’ve overcome. We are taking the weight of my past, the pain and suffering etched into my skin, and drawing it out. We’re transforming it into the very fabric of my new soul. Any sorrow I may feel from their loss and the loss of my physical body pales in comparison to the hope eclipsing me.

Hope and belonging.

Eclipse works with precision, fingers moving deftly, guiding the ink as it coalesces into the framework of our new soul—a soul I will share withallof them.

My breath hitches as I sense others approaching from the bridge at the edge of the blanket fort. I turn to take in the sight of them from Linny and Ginny, and Monroe to others I have not truly met—as if they all connected to the sensation of our rebirth. Both beautiful and terrifying. Some are in shock. Others curious.

Smiling at my alters, I stare down at my palms, and I can’t help but wonder if…could I possibly…? If there was ever aperfect place for exploring my relationship with them, the Realm of Dreams is it.

So, I sink into the warm tingling feeling I once described to Ivy. Those threads of static lightning leave my fingertips…and I nearly choke on my breath when they manifest.

The more I focus on opening a window into the world through Eclipse’s eyes, the more I show them her weaving the black ink into our new soul. Warmth penetrates my very heart, finding a bed there, building its own cocoon like a heated blanket fort of energy.

“The world kind of fades away for a little while…” I murmur, holding the window, so they may all watch with me.

“The energy feels soft and silky,” I continue, speaking the words from my heart, mind, and the resurrection of my soul. “I feel alive and angelic.”

Like I’m painting with light and emotion.

“I become part of something beautiful!” They do now, too.

This is my darkness, my scars, and secrets, now taking on a new form. My emotions escape my very blood. I might not be human from now on, but I’ve never felt more human.

I ease back into my being, catching the dark orb to continue the work. It’s my turn.

I step forward, my hands trembling as I extend them. Powerful eyes center upon me, Gods and Goddess. But I’d swear I hear breaths in my mind—the breaths of my alters.

Light swells from my right side, adorned with stars, rainbows, unicorns, and peacock feathers—all fusing into bursts of color. Little fireworks and kaleidoscopes. Bunny rabbits, butterflies, the sun and moon, and hearts. With a deep breath, I weave my light and color. Radiant and whimsical symbols flow from my skin, merging with the dark framework Eclipse created. Our framework and substance. Hecate’s flame, Morpheus’sgrain of sand, and Nyxion’s tear are the foundation, the anchor holding us here.

Tears stream down my cheeks as the two halves crash together, the duality of my being transforming into a harmonious whole. A deep, wrenching sob escapes my lips. My body shakes with the intensity of my emotions. The tattoos now reside within the new soul. A perfect balance of light and dark.

With the new soul almost complete, I recall the special flowers that Eclipse had drawn in our journal. One last weaving. I take them, petal by petal, and craft them into the center of my soul of light, shadow, and color. They become the crown of my soul, the final touch of delicate beauty. Our own language.

Finally, I take up a needle with steady hands, my inner state calmer than ever, knowing I will never be alone. My skin, flesh, and bones are gone.

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