"L! Lyn! Llyne!"

  A voice pierced the fog, distant yet urgent, hooking into my chest and hauling me up from the void. Light burned my eyes as they opened. I blinked a few times before a face came into focus. It was Iz. Her eyes brimmed with worry, her hands trembling as they gripped my shoulders.

  "Iz?" My voice was a dry rasp. I bolted upright, air rushing into my lungs. My hand instinctively went to my forehead, sweat clinging to my skin.

  Everything around me felt unreal, warped, like a dream I had yet to wake from.

  "You got to breathe, Lil!" Iz's voice rang sharp with panic. I took in my surroundings. The room. The familiar scent of her perfume. The soft pink bedsheets and boyband posters, grounding, mundane things that clashed violently with the chaos still unraveling in my mind.

  "I'm okay, Iz. Don't worry." I exhaled slowly and pushed myself to stand, wincing as my cheeks stung. I touched my face, then turned to her. "Did you slap me?" I blinked a few times, staring.

  Iz stared back, eyes wobbling left and right. I leaned closer, staring her down. She looked away and pushed me back. "Wh- What... are you talking about? What slap?" She crossed her arms and hmphed. I narrowed my eyes.

  She's lying again. This vixen.

  Iz turned back to face me. "Anyways... I-I didn't know you had OSA. Why didn't you tell me? I was worried sick." Her voice trembled as tears welled in her eyes.

  Are those tears? What a drama queen.

  "OSA?"

  "Obstructive Sleep Apnea. It's a blah blah blah—," Iz began, her concern sliding into full lecture mode. The explanation came in never-ending waves. I only caught fragments, my mind still drifted back to the girl in the white dress.

  "Uh-huh."

  She pinched the bridge of her nose. Inhaling, she counted down from ten. “You should take it seriously. People with OSA can literally stop breathing in their sleep.”

  I cupped both hands over her mouth.

  Boy. She's stoppable now but what about the future? Poor kiddos. Aunty can't save ya.

  I shook my head in despair then looked up to see her grumpy look. "...Yeah, definitely not that. It's another nightmare." My voice cut through and her words fell away.

  Iz blinked, then frowned. "Oh. Another one? That must be awful."

  I rolled my shoulders, tension unwinding. "Not that bad, even though I already had two today. The first one was not that bad, second; the worst, third; weirded me out."

  Memories of those nightmares flashed by. I shuddered. Every hair on my arms stood. I waved my hands, dismissing the nightmare.

  Yup. Not now. Begone evil spirit.

  "Anyways, how long we slept?" I turned the topic, uninterested in reliving the terror just yet.

  Iz glanced at the clock beside her. "Only thirty minutes."

  I stared at her, shocked. "Thirty minutes? That felt way longer."

  Suddenly, a deep growl erupted.

  Both our eyes darted to the source.

  My stomach.

  "..."

  "..."

  Iz stared at me like I had grown horns.

  "Iz, stop looking at my tummy. It's getting embarrassed."

  "What kind of wild demon is living inside you?"

  "The type that needs constant feeding or else it'll eat me up whole."

  "We better go down and eat dinner before the monster EATS you up!"

  Her dramatics earned a snort from me. We descended to the dining room.

  Dinner was less of a meal and more of a royal feast. Rows of beautifully plated dishes sent up steam.

  "Why must everything be so extravagant?" I asked.

  "Is it? I think it's normal."

  "Go check your brain."

  We settled in. As our chopsticks danced, I noticed something. "I have never seen your father before except in the newspaper. Doesn't he eat with you?"

  Iz chewed with her mouth full, sauce staining her face. "Noooope."

  "If your etiquette teacher saw you now, she’d faint."

  Iz ignored my sass. "My father is always with his business associates in his office. He rarely spends time with me."

  "You must be lonely."

  Poor girlie. Must be desperate. Lonely in this enormous useless house. No wonder she even befriended a gremlin like me.

  "Not really. After all, they always say more business means more money."

  They? Who's they? I doubt the butlers and maids told her that.

  Iz continued. "Besides, I have you and everyone in the house. I don't feel one bit of loneliness."

  That hit something in me. Warmth, perhaps. "Aww... That's sweet."

  Iz's eyes suddenly gleamed. "My father's business associates are super creepy. They have really scary faces and dark, bloody aura. All of them are at least 6 feet tall, too. When I first saw them, I fainted while standing."

  Scary face, dark, and bloody aura? Has she been watching too much horror movies? Pfft. As if they exist.

  "You fainted? Now I'm curious what they look like."

  Thud. Thud. Thud.

  Heavy footsteps echoed from above, like a warning. I tilted my head up and whistled softly. "They got loud footsteps." Words softly escaped my lips before I could catch them.

  "They must be out of Father's office." Iz placed her utensils down and dabbed her face clean while I shoved another chunk of meat into my mouth.

  "How do you know? You peeked?" I took a drink to swallow the meat that refused to roll down. I hacked my chest. Go down you stubborn meat!

  "Father soundproofs his office. I've tried to eavesdrop several times but failed."

  Water sputtered out of me and coincidentally the meat stuck in my throat finally let down. Maybe was shocked at Iz playing spy. I don't know but who cares. "Wow! You're daring."

  "Businesses are always followed by risks." Iz said with pride. Of course she did. She always write down things her father said or what the newspaper published into a little book she has and read it once every night before sleeping. The first time I saw it, I thought she was in cult and almost bolted out the house.

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  "Ever heard of the proverb, 'Curiosity killed the cat'?" I asked.

  I knew that proverbs too well since I was especially naughty when I was young. Naughtier than now. I always end up getting caught by Ma for all those trouble I made. Luckily Ma didn't kill me or else, my life tails would be at -99999999999999.

  Iz gulped and returned to her meal. We finished in silence.

  Back in Iz's room, I made myself comfortable on her bed. The softness was luring me to sleep when—

  "Waaahhhh!" I yelped. A pencil appeared inches from my eyes.

  "You trying to kill me with a pencil?!! How have I wronged you?!!"

  Never knew I would die by the hands of a pretty girl, but I guess that's fine too.

  Iz moved the pencil closer. "Talk. Every detail." She flipped to a fresh page. "I'm trying my best not to throttle you here."

  Phew! That was close. That's why I believe in Lady Luck and prayed to her everyday.

  "Oh, right. The promise." I slouched onto the floor. The feeling of the hard ground offered more security than the bed.

  With swift hands, Iz donned non-prescription glasses from her bedside table and tied her hair in a low ponytail. She looked like a pint-sized inquisitor. "No delaying. Spill it. Unless… you want my help in that, too." Her eyes narrowed.

  She used to say she hates cosplay but look at her now. Tsk, tsk, tsk.

  I raised one hand to my head, grunted. "I guess I'll tell you my dark past."

  She raised the pencil, ready to strike on my next breath.

  I immediately sat up and butt walked backwards. "Joking. Joking. Can't you take a joke?"

  "If you want to stay alive, then don't."

  Oui... Who in their right mind would befriend her...? Oh... right. It's me. Haiz...

  I straightened my back and took in a deep breathe. A road to trauma it is.

  "Ouish~ Fine. I'll tell you about my first dream."

  And I did. I told her everything. The dark pull. The drowned woman. The suffocating weight.

  Iz's pencil flew. Using my max-level danger sensor and overused flexible dodging skill, I easily dodge the pencil flying my way.

  "Lil, looking at how happy you are talking about your first dream, you must have wanted to stay there."

  "Seems that way."

  The woman was beautiful after all. Who doesn't like beauty?

  "Were you having trouble sleeping that time or before that?"

  "Nope. Not at all, I slept like a baby."

  "You were completely relaxed?"

  "No one can be more relaxed than me." I winked.

  Iz tilted her head. "Hmm... I see. You mentioned that something wrapped around your leg?"

  "Ya. Why?"

  "A tentacle, perhaps."

  "Mmm... Maybe? I think there was some suction too."

  "Were you surrounded by water perchance?"

  My eyes widened. "Why didn't I think of that? I can't swim!"

  "That's the first thing you thought about?"

  "What else?" I shrugged.

  "Why was there a lady under the water? Why were you under the water as well? What is the connection between you and the dead lady? Have you met her before? Why did the monster attack you? And how could you even breathe underwater? All of that didn’t cross your mind?"

  All of that, of course, had crossed my mind... but... I feel like I shouldn't tell her the truth. Sorry, Iz.

  "Right. Those questions." I whistled, putting on a nonchalant face, brushing it all off.

  "Do you even know what I just said?"

  "Ya-da-ya-da-ya-da... Monster?"

  "You're hopeless." She smiled, but her eyes remained sharp. "Tell me the second."

  I complied. The classroom. The sleep. The massacre. Then lastly the part where my neck was sliced surfaced again.

  I grabbed my neck. Tsss... Ugh... This is worse than I thought.

  My fingers stayed on my neck, skin fragile. I told myself it was just memory, a leftover itch, but it felt real. Too precise. My pulse thudded beneath my fingertips, marking the place I was supposed to die. I swallowed and waited. The room didn’t tilt. I didn’t scream. That meant I was fine. That’s what fine felt like now.

  The longer I talked about my nightmares, the heavier the room grew. The silence wasn’t empty. It lingered, attentive, as if every word I spoke left something behind. I kept my eyes forward, resisting the urge to look at the walls.

  Don’t be stupid, I told myself, but the feeling stayed. I forced a thin smile, easier than admitting my hands were shaking. The room felt smaller, each time I mentioned HER. I didn’t look at Iz, afraid she’d see my fear.

  Iz froze. "Wait. So the lady in your first dream who was dead appeared in your second dream? She was alive and chopping people down? She also..." She mimicked swinging a scythe.

  "That's right. She swung her scythe at my neck."

  Saying it out loud made it worse. The image sharpened: the blade arcing through the air, splitting it just before it reached me. I laughed to keep my knees from giving out. If I let myself feel its weight or hear it, I fear... I might lose a part of myself.

  My neck burned with every flash of memory.

  Iz rubbed her neck. "Now I know why you reacted that way in school. Imagine your neck getting chopped off."

  "You're not making me feel better, doc." I chuckled.

  The sound came out normal, but my throat burned. My neck itched, like something had brushed past and might come back.

  "You remembered the man you bumped in Uncle Simon's restaurant?"

  The memory of the 'dead man' surged. I clenched my fist. My breath hitched, shallow and uneven. The room blurred, colors fading at the edges. I forced air into my lungs anyway, slower this time, counting like I did as a kid hiding under my blanket.

  One. Two. Don’t panic. Don’t let her see.

  My mouth opened. Nothing came out. My stomach dropped, then my chest followed, like an elevator with a snapped cable.

  “…Ya,” I said finally. It didn’t sound like my voice.

  "Was he one of the dead bodies in your second dream?"

  "How you know?!"

  Iz hesitated, then said it anyway. "You did say you have no taste in dead man."

  Oh right, I did.

  Iz scribbled something in her book. I watched the pencil move, faster than her breathing.

  “You’re connecting things,” I said before she could speak.

  She paused. Looked up. “…Yeah.”

  “Don’t,” I added. “Not yet.”

  My fingers curled into the mat. “Tell me what you think after I say it. I don’t want your theory to change my memory.”

  Iz nodded and I told her about the third. The lingering danger. The little girl. The fear.

  "This sounds like some kind of psychic phenomenon. And it started in primary? The first experience must have been tough on you." Iz rubbed her chin, brow furrowed.

  I shrugged. "Not really. Just some black fog surrounding a room. No biggie."

  "That girl you mentioned. She seemed idle?"

  "Till my third dream, that is. Normally, the little girl stands there and does nothing."

  Mentioning her really terrifies me. But... she did save me several times, I guess?

  "The girl... Could she be like a messenger? Or a guardian angel?"

  "If that's what a guardian angel looks like, those people on the Internet must be taking drugs." I winced.

  "Right. You did say she looks more like a ghost in a movie, right?"

  I nodded then a realization dawned on me. Wait. Am I being haunted? But why me? What did I—

  "What if that's not what she looks like?" Iz interrupted my thought.

  "What do you mean, Iz?"

  "What if she only looks like that because you hate horror?" Iz countered. "Maybe she took that form so you’d run away from the danger? A fight-or-flight response—"

  I clamped her mouth shut. Nope. I ain't going through another lecture session. Spare me the pain.

  I lowered my head, trying to push away the nightmare to the back of my mind.

  “The woman keeps showing up,” I said slowly. “First dead. Then alive. Then—”

  I stopped. My stomach twisted.

  “Then something worse,” I finished. The words tasted bitter and saying them felt like closing a door behind me. No more pretending it was random. No more easy exits.

  Iz went still and said, “…You think they’re connected?”

  I hated that she sounded relieved I’d said it first.

  “The first two dreams are connected,” Iz said.

  “I know,” I replied. She blinked.

  “They don’t feel like memories,” I continued. “They feel like… entrances.”

  Iz’s pencil stilled. "…Entrances to what?”

  I swallowed. “That’s the part I don’t want to name.”

  Iz nodded, and continued. "For the third dream, the little girl might be warning you by trapping you in the dream."

  "So that I'll be in a coma in reality, and no harm will come to me?" I was baffled by the hypothesis.

  "Might be so." Iz looked at me with conviction.

  This girl, she's gone coocoo.

  Meeting her burning eyes, my stomach churned.

  But she's not someone who does crazy talk. Ever.

  I sighed in resignation. "Well, she was desperate enough to move and talk."

  “Of course, they might be just dreams,” Iz said, too fast.

  Dreams.

  I didn’t say a word, but my jaw and hands were clenched shut. I didn’t realize it until a few seconds later as we sat in heavy silence. Iz pressed her pencil down so hard the lead snapped and stared at the broken pieces as if they’d betrayed her. Without thinking, I reached out and picked up one of them. It felt sharper than it looked, so I set it aside carefully, as if it might hurt someone if left there too long.

  “…I don’t like things I can’t explain,” she admitted. Her fingers hovered over mine for a heartbeat before she squeezed my hand, not tight, just enough. “You don’t have to figure it all out tonight.”

  I nodded. Sleep wasn’t safety. But staying awake wasn’t either. “Okay,” I said. “But if I disappear, you’re dragging me back.”

  Iz nodded, her fingers feeling a degree colder. We laid back, silence washing over us. She turned her back to me, then hesitated.

  “Lil?”

  “Yeah?”

  “…If you dream again, wake me up.”

  I smiled into the pillow. “Deal.”

  Sleep had never felt like a threat before. It used to be easy: close my eyes, disappear for a while, come back the same. Now it felt like a door I didn’t remember unlocking.

  Had the dreams been chasing me, or had I been walking toward them all along?

  As I closed my eyes, the room grew too quiet. Water. Steel. A small hand tugging me backward into sleep. I didn’t know which scared me more: dreaming again or waking to realize the dreams had been warning me all along.

  A slower-paced chapter to cool things down after the previous tension. Llyne’s dreams are beginning to form a pattern, and Iz’s observations may not be as far-fetched as they sound.

  by GlitchWriter

  Alex was a Senior Dev at Riot. Now he's a Level 1 Caster Minion in Zaun. Armed with a [Data Leak] and the ability to harvest code, he must exploit hitboxes and pathing glitches to survive Champions like Warwick and Singed. Witness the evolution of a trash mob into a Raid Boss in this Tech-Horror LitRPG.