Page 2 of Visions of Darkness

Desperately trying to bind the Kruen.

To stop it.

To end it.

The energy blew from her in a barrage of white rays.

As it felt the powerful energy cut through the darkness, the Kruen split in two, and in two parts, the thick shadow slipped low to blend with the dense fog that curled and spilled out over the pitted, rocky ground. The fog shifted and roiled, boiling where the shadow wound a billowing path as it fled. It was quick to come back together as it sought sanctuary deeper in the recesses of Faydor.

The Kruen whipped around the edge of a boulder.

Pax gathered his light and stretched out his mind to bind it, and he impaled the monster on its side.

With a piercing screech, a fragment of the shadow fell, writhing before it withered.

In an instant, the remaining shadow amassed. It lashed out with its limbs, which appeared in a thousand fiery tendrils.

She and Pax broke apart to dodge it. A molten blade streaked past her arm, missing her by an inch.

Only she realized in a flash that her Nol had not been so lucky.

She screamed as Pax reeled back and clutched his side where he’d been struck by the Kruen’s searing limb.

His gray eyes were wide with agony. Her Nol’s pain had become her own.

Pax dropped to his knees, and she couldn’t help but do the same. On all fours, she crawled to where he’d fallen. With shaking hands, she reached for him, begging, “Pax. Don’t go. Stay with me. Please, don’t go.”

She’d all but forgotten the vicious Kruen as she turned her back and clutched Pax’s shirt.

“Pax,” she whispered as she reached out and touched the severe, sharp angles of his face.

But she already knew she could not keep him there.

Like a torch, his spirit surged, flickered, and then he was gone.

She had no time to rebound or stand.

Because, from behind, a strike fell deep into her flesh.

The lash of a whip that was sharp and excruciating.

And it shattered the last of the light.

I jolted upright in bed. My hands were fisted in the blanket, and my mouth was opened toward the ceiling on a silent cry that I fought to keep locked in my throat. The scream threatened to break free, and I warred against the urge to release it, knowing what would happen if I gave voice to the agony.

This was something that could not be shared.

Jagged pants heaved from my lungs as my mind spiraled through the remnants of sleep, and I blinked through the disorder as I struggled to get my bearings in the wisping darkness. To adjust to being yanked from one reality to another.

Visions continued to flash, horrors that rushed through my brain in a circuit of confusion. My heart thundered at my ribs, and I could feel the blood careening through my veins.

I finally managed to inhale a shaky, steadying breath, and I shifted to sit up on the side of the bed. Slowly, my eyes adjusted to the lapping shadows of my surroundings.

I was in my tiny room. The same one I’d awakened in for my entire life.

Safe.

It was only a bad dream.

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