Piles of parchment were scattered around the floor. They had been ripped from various books and shoved hastily under the door for reading material whenever the Oneiroi cared to remember her existence.
What a pitiful fucking life.
She wasn’t even worth a full book. Just single pages ripped from random texts to fill her time.
Xia couldn’t complain, however. The attention of the Oneiroi was far worse than any shame or guilt that had ever soured her gut.
She and her sisters had been cursed to their island since birth. It was all the three of them had ever known apart from each other.
When the Lord of Nightmares captured their island and enslaved the three Siren’s, the simplicity of their lives was over. It was the moment she’d learned the true meaning of suffering.
Before they’d been cursed, yes, but life still thrived on the island. Lush green fields rolled and dipped with the land and birds flitted through the trees singing of their adventures. The ocean was full of vibrant life and the sun shone brilliantly until the Sirens called forth the fatal storms.
It was as if the Fates had forgiven them and were encouraging them to thrive even though what they did brought such misery.
Since his arrival though?
Her sisters faded to dust and the sun itself had forsaken her island.
A constant cover of stormy clouds that never wept settled in and, once the golden rays left, so too did the trees and the birds. Her island twisted into cliffs and craggy outbreaks as if it mourned the life it lost and raged at the sky.
It was desolate.
The only friends she had were the fish who dared swim by the bay window and the small rays of moonlight that shimmered through the sea and refracted iridescent waves within her glass prison.
Xia pulled her attention from the gilded finishings and glass furniture and closed her eyes. She willed her lungs to breathe steadily and her heart to still.
The Lord of Nightmares would call upon her tonight.
He would feed on her like she did on so many innocent human men except, where the sailors were granted the mercy of death, Xia would suffer eternally.
He would pull her darkest fears from the depths of her mind and drown her in them until she lay like a broken doll on the floor.
Her only solace would be the man she found within the stars. The only soul as dark and empty as her own.
Brooks.
Her cheeks heated at the thought of his deep voice caressing her mind. It sent shivers through her body that left her restless and aching with nothing but her own fingers for release. She traced her hand down slowly, pretending it was more firm and calloused. If she was going to make it through a night with the Devil, she would take advantage of the quiet hours before to relish in bliss.
Xia tried to imagine what handsome features would be attached to a voice as deep and silky as Brooks’. Her body was helpless to control its response at the thought and her thighs clenched. She was the only one who could relieve the tension building in her core, but she dreamt it was someone else nonetheless.
Brookswaspulledbackfrom the grip of sleep and slammed into a nightmare so intense he nearly seized.
Vivid colors flashed behind his eyelids as spasms wracked his rigid frame. Stars imploded, galaxies expanded and every manner of life ended where it began all in one fluttering moment. His senses were short circuiting as frantic, feminine screams filtered into his psyche, encompassing his mind and digging their talons deep into his dreams.
Veins of static electricity charged the vast expanse of space his mind was captured in, but it was the pulsing darkness he couldn’t pull his attention from.
Screams reverberated through his mind as the expansive void called to him, the chaos in between the stars whispering a name he couldn’t quite hear.
Flashes of memories danced across his vision too quickly to capture as the screams deafened him.
A broken girl falling, her body war beaten and bleeding as she surrendered her body and soul.
Tortured ocher eyes glossed over in a lifeless sheen.
A bright stain of red splashed across his body and dotted his face.
Deep red arterial sprays lie painted across the floor of darkness, the tinge of iron coating the back of his throat as it cooled upon his skin. It tingled where the blood settled. Brooks lifted his arm and watched in both horror and fascination as the blood soaked through his skin.
