The last thing I remember seeing before closing my eyes, allowing my body to sink into a subconscious state is the faint shimmer of red glow from outside my tent. Perhaps it was the campfire that set off this dream, the nightmare of another world. A realm where my bare feet lay covered in ash, likely the remains of the many damned souls sent here before me. Lucky me I guess, for I only have to take a nightly glimpse rather than be cast away for an eternity. Though I cannot say this makes this hell any better for me as my jagged breath gets stolen from my lungs, in a landscape where the wind doesn't blow. Only faint heat, a kind not hot enough to burn but to keep you uncomfortable. A terrible middle that you are powerless against, a constant state of edging with no end. I still don’t know if these are real, they feel real. These dreams that is.
I stare down at my hands, seeing longer claws than usual. I may be asleep but my senses are very much awake, feeling the silk nightgown pressed against my skin. Vulnerable is the only word I can use to describe myself as I desperately try to cover whatever I can with my hair. Once I was teased for its length, I now find an appreciation for its ability to drape over my bare shoulders. My chest feels empty, the only beating I can hear are the sounds of my own footsteps beneath me once I muster the courage to finally step forward. As I begin walking, it feels as though I have been trekking for miles without stopping. Even my lips crackle and the soles of my feet begin to tear raw. My chest lays empty, without a heart, yet there is a swelling within it that makes me feel as though I am to burst from within. Again, another slightly uncomfortable sensation that my body and mental thoughts cannot shake.
I am left to walk down a clear distinct path. Spires of jagged rocks tower over me as I watch ravens flock from the hanging men. None of them have faces, they never do, I call them the forgotten. If they once had an identity, hell has long taken it. For the dead will always be remembered. But tortured souls cannot pass into the next life if they are not to be remembered. If there is no one to recollect their existence, then they will not have a realm to return to, at least that is what I believe. Without a face, they lack identity and the soul is lost. I know better than to stare at them for too long though. The last time I did, I felt my own soul seeping away. Or perhaps I was simply afraid… I can never tell, I always am when I dream. As the old rope sways, creaking from the weight they are burdened with to hold the bodies up for eternity. I press forward, smelling the stench of blood. I used to fear this too, the smell of it alone would remind me of death. But now I find myself… Soothed by it? Maybe that’s more terrifying than rejecting it all together. It triggers an instinct in me that I cannot quite understand.
The faceless become more grotesque in character. Their thin and decomposing bodies lay open, ribs exposed with their inner contents pouring out of their abdomen. Some look like they were tortured before their willpower finally broke. A few flinch, a couple of their heads turn to face me. I promptly avert my gaze, fearing what I could possibly see. Their skin… they are stained an ashen grey, bruised from the various abuses they have suffered. The women are no different, perhaps I find their battered appearance more disgusting than the men. Maybe it is because I am a woman myself, I cannot imagine the harm that had been done to them. I find my hand pressing against the top of my chest, trying to catch my breath as I block out the traumatising sight from my eyes. Some were with children… I wonder what could have happened to them… No, I won’t wonder, I cannot wonder. A faint scream starts to inch its way to my mouth, my tongue dampening with heaviness as I stop at a vision in front of me.
“No! Please!”
“You are all monsters, aren’t you?”
I see a man in black armour, he isn’t faceless. At least not like the others. His eyes lay void black, an expression of terror shown on his features. I know not his name but I do know him. He was just one of many I saw that day… Before Red. The smell of blood… It is stronger as I draw closer. Adorned in darkness, a complete contrast to me, he is equipped with a blade. Yet his knees buckle before me as red teardrops trickle from his eyes. There are many things to be afraid of here. I could even argue his own attire is terrifying in its own right. Yet a man coated in such darkness appears before me, almost begging. I want to ask him why, why is he afraid of me? I look at my hands again, my nails crusted with dried blood. Then her words echo in the back of my head.
‘Empathise not with the pained, resist following the path of the hateful’.
Mother? Is that you? Where are you? I feel myself crying out yet my lips do not move in the way I want them to. As I reopen my eyes his neck hangs from my jaws and the smell of blood takes me. My white silk dress is stained in red, I cannot move my gaze away. No words can find themselves escaping the prison they have been casted in, for silence prevents me from even uttering a breath. I feel helpless knowing I cannot even cast a spell to save myself if I wanted to… The warm, sticky liquid is trailing down my neck. I am repulsed with myself, yet I couldn’t resist it. No… I find myself craving more, even now. The sky flashes a faint orange, reminiscent of the campfire flame… Or a fireball but a really big one. It produces a sound akin to thunder, creating a force powerful enough to nearly knock me over. A burning sensation rises from my ribs yet I have no choice but to keep going despite how broken they feel.
The crags begin to close in, I am walking into the mouth of a predator and I can do nothing to stop it as the claustrophobia begins to take my breath away. The scent here is rotten, like meat sat rotting out on a summer’s day is the best way I can describe it. Holding my breath does not help for the pressure in my chest only increases as I do so. Closing my eyes, I do my best to ignore it, the warm gurgling in my ear increasing as my hearing heightens. Ash turning into something sticky, I open my eyes to look down and see nothing but flesh. Blobs expanding, never ending, I can make none of it out. It’s disgusting… Even as I sink down past my ankles, I hoist my leg up to keep going down the road against my will. Every ounce of energy that is forced from me, brings me great pain. A torture that I feel every night but can never get used to.
A castle ahead, roofs painted in a dark red. Similar to the manor at home, it’s walls are made of pure cobblestone with windows darkened. It’s gardens are long dead. Women moan in despair, their pitch harmonising. Creating a song of grim cries that sound so loud, I find my ears ringing. It is so chilling it is almost beautiful. No, I shouldn’t say that. How could I think that way? What is wrong with me? They repeat a phrase I cannot quite make out for it is too muffled. In it I hear Alice, my beloved Alice. Is she hurt too? I pray to whoever is willing to hear out my pleas, do not let that be.
“Miss Bloodworthe.”
I stopped for the first time to hear a voice so familiar. The pressure in my chest tightens and the claws of fear scrape their dirty fingers down my throat. It is dry and it hurts to swallow. A single tear tickling the side of my cheek as my neck is forced to crane, turning to face him… To face Haarin. His eyes pure black just like the man before, an axe in hand. The voices of the women morph into cries of an angry crowd. Voices I have heard before. ‘Kill the demon!’ they say. Haarin is dressed in white, just like me. But I am the only one here standing in it being stained with blood. He adjusts his axe, taking a single step closer. The smell of death gets stronger and I cannot pull my eyes away from him. I want to say something to him. Something in anger, no… Mercy? He looks at me like the rest looked at me when they banished my mother when I was just a child. Oh how much regret fills me, for years I could not even address her by her title. To call her maid not my true parent… What type of daughter am I? I have upset Haarin too, I didn’t mean to, I really didn’t. But why would he have done that to me? To condemn my mother in front of everyone, to utter those words to strike her down? How did he think that would make me feel? Does he intend to strike me down now too? To take revenge for something my mother could have done, if she had truly done it? I don’t believe she could have… He must have been tricked… The red atmosphere darkening, my vision wavering. Am I… Am I crying?
I expect him to swing, to grab me, to close the gap between us. Yet he stops and we are at a standstill. There are only us two yet I feel as though there is another watching. From where? My gaze bounces around yet I can see nothing. Another crack of flame, it strikes the nearby trees that are desperately clinging to the crag-tops. When I look back at Haarin I see a man reminiscent of him, but not him. His features are different though I cannot see him clearly, for he stands in a faint blur.
“My… Bloodworthe. My… Perfect daughter.” The demonic voice chuckles.
When I blink I find myself facing the castle in the distance once more. Haarin… Or whoever took the form of him, is no more. Yet I can still feel that presence here, like a creeping breath pressing against my neck. I am inclined to keep walking, my legs getting deeper into the mush that makes the ground underneath me. I see gnarly creatures tearing into the faceless, their screams and cries for help only serve to make me more terrified. I can do nothing to help them despite wanting to. Maybe that is why I do not flinch in the face of death… The burned corpses of the town, I had no reaction. Do they judge me for that? Am I cruel for not shedding a tear for the deceased? I didn’t know what to do, I never do. I force my eyes to look down again and in the river of blood and bodies I see her, I see my mother. Her body floating beside me, her skin grey and veins black. Her beauty no more, her appearance deader than anything I have witnessed here. She has eyes, her mouth lipping the words ‘come home’. I break from the trance, my knees buckling. As I reach to grab her, I fall into the river and I cannot breathe. Something I never had to prioritise in doing thanks to my gift, yet I feel the effects of suffocation, her body dissolving in my arms. When I can take no more, I swim to the surface and here I stand in front of the castle courtyard coated in blood.
My once pure white hair now is stained in a god awful stench, my skin ruined. I shouldn’t be here, I cannot be here. Dread spring locks into my bones and my joints ache in devastation. There is something coming, a figure. I can hear my name eerily be called out in a male voice. Ruyi… Ruyi… Come home Ruyi. Again, it is familiar yet all so foreign at the same time. I am terrified yet… comforted. No, I shouldn’t be here. I want to leave, I want to be back in my tent. He is getting closer. Gods… My bones are weakening. Markings begin to burn into my flesh, crawling up my body. I scream out in pure agony yet I cannot buckle. I am frozen in time to suffer a pain where I cannot rest. He takes me by the jaw, craning open my mouth. His eyes are a deep scarlet like my own when I lose control, he is grinning at me. When he lets go I feel the carnal urge to feed. But I do not want to, I do not want to lose control again. I have always embraced my gifts, but I never indulge to this extent. My legs… They’re moving on their own! Who am I going to? No… No, not them. Anyone but them. They already think of me to be a monster, please. I have travelled with them for so long, I don’t want to do it. Don’t make me do it. Please! I don’t want to hurt them!
Anyone, please. Help me. I don’t like this man… I don’t want to be here.
He has done something to me, I cannot control myself.
I am losing myself, I don’t want to hurt you.
Please, wake me up…
Wake me up, anyone…
Can anyone hear me?
I feel so alone, I don’t want to be here…
I don’t want to be alone again!
I am begging anyone, to just wake me up!
I am alone again… No one is coming…
I have to feed on them, he is making me…
I give in… I give in, I don’t want to feel the pain anymore.
Their sanguine lifeforce, it will give me life.
My heart will start to beat once again…
