Nightmare Begins

Bel blinked, tightening his grip on the shovel. The landlord? His mind struggled to process her words. Who in their right mind would show up at a dusty old stable looking for the most powerful person in the barony?

She moved with an elegant ease, arms crossed as if she were appraising something insignificant.

"Surely, the most important person around," she mused, glancing at the wooden beams with idle curiosity. "Someone with power and influence in this little piece of the world."

Bel almost said the baron's name, out of habit, before his instincts screamed at him to stop. Something about this woman, the way she spoke, the way she looked at him, sent a chill down his spine. He shifted uncomfortably and looked away.

"I... I don't know," he mumbled, trying to sound casual. "Maybe you should ask someone else."

Silence filled the stable, thick and suffocating. He hesitated, then glanced back at her, then his breath caught in his throat.

Her golden eyes locked onto him, sharp and piercing. Her smile stretched wider, slowly, like a predator toying with its prey. The warmth in her amusement had changed, now it was something colder, something sharper, something that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

She took a step forward.

"Lies," she murmured, tilting her head. "They have such a disgusting stench."

The stable suddenly felt oppressive. The air grew heavy, the scent of hay and dust vanishing under something unplaceable.

Light from the wooden slats seemed dimmer, the distant sounds of the village fading into eerie stillness. The horses, sensing the shift, let out uneasy snorts and shuffled in their stalls. A few whinnied nervously, their hooves clattering against the wooden floor.

The woman's fingers brushed Bel's cheek. The touch sent a shock through his body, cold, yet alive, crawling under his skin like spiders exploring his flesh.

"Lies," she whispered again. "They leave stains on such a cute face."

Bel shivered, his vision blurring. The stable twisted around him, the walls stretched, the beams warped, and the shadows deepened into something alive.

His knees wobbled, his hands trembled, his breath came short and fast. The world around him bent and spiraled, and at the center of it was her face, steady, oppressive, her smile carved into his fading reality.

"Now," her voice wrapped around his mind, pulling him deeper. "Tell me more about the baron of Eldric."

Darkness swallowed Bel whole, wrapping around him like a suffocating fog. Then, chaos.

Fire flashed before his eyes. The clashing of steel rang in his ears. The sky was filled with screams. The field stretched endlessly, soaked in blood, filled with lifeless bodies, the smell of death.

His gaze drifted downward. A mother clutched her daughter, their eyes wide with terror. They weren't looking at the sky, but at something before it: him.

Bel's breath caught. Why were they staring? His hands felt heavy, something was wrong with the way he felt his limbs. He tried to speak, but then, the mother's lips moved, forming words he couldn't hear. The girl clung to her mother, trembling.

Then they screamed.

Bel gasped awake, his body jerking up as if torn from drowning waters. Sweat soaked his skin, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. His heart pounded so violently it hurt.

He wiped his trembling hands over his face.

"What… was that?" he whispered, his voice hoarse. The nightmare clung to him, refusing to fade. It had felt too real.

His surroundings blurred. Where was he? How had he gotten here? The stable…

The stable.

A sharp, thick, acrid scent filled his nose. Not the smell of hay or damp wood.

Bel froze. The stable was silent. Too silent. The horses were gone, the woman too. Everything was empty.

Had he… fallen asleep? Was any of it real?

As he pushed himself up, a noise cut through the silence.

Screams.

A shiver ran down his spine. The sound filled the air, raw, desperate, just like his nightmare. His body moved before his mind could think, bolting toward the entrance, heart slamming against his ribs.

He stepped outside, and the world ended.

The village was burning.

Smoke thickened the air, swallowing the sun in a choking darkness. Houses crumbled under waves of fire, their thatched roofs collapsing in bursts of embers. People ran, their voices rising in panic, their cries of terror echoing through the streets.

Bel stood frozen. The nightmare had followed him.

His foot shifted forward, numb, disconnected. Then, he hit something solid.

He looked down.

Harvin, twisted, lifeless. A deep, gruesome slash ran from his chest to his shoulder, his arm missing entirely. Blood seeped into the dirt, dark and heavy.

Bel's stomach twisted. His breath caught, his vision swam. He staggered back, his mind refused to believe it, to process it.

But the proof was there. Harvin was dead.

The world spun. His legs trembled. The nightmare had become real.

Bel's body locked up. His breath came in quick, panicked gasps, his mind struggling to process the horror before him. Harvin, gruff, loud, always cursing about something, was now nothing more than a twisted, lifeless heap on the ground, his blood staining the dirt like spilled ink.

Then, reality crashed down on him.

His stomach lurched. A strangled sound escaped his throat. Fear dug its claws deep, numbing every thought in his head. His legs twitched, trying to obey, but instead of running, they fumbled.

He tripped over his own feet, crashing onto the ground, his palms scraping against the rough dirt.

He gasped, his body trembling. He scrambled backward, his fingers clawing at the earth as if he could push himself away from the nightmare. Nausea curled in his gut, a sour, burning weight that refused to leave.

From somewhere beyond, deep in the burning village, the screams now mixed with something else. A sickening crunch, a heavy thud, a deep, guttural growl that sent ice shooting through Bel's veins.

Terror took possession of his body, forcing him to stand up and run, his legs barely holding him as he bolted blindly down the road.

He didn't know where he was going. He didn't care. He just had to get away.

But the road ahead was worse.

More bodies.

People he knew, neighbors, friends. Their broken bodies lay scattered across the dirt, torn apart in ways that didn't make sense. Deep, jagged gashes. Missing limbs. Eyes wide, mouths frozen in screams they never finished. Blood soaked the ground, fresh and glistening in the firelight.

His breath hitched. Who could have done this? What kind of monster?

His heart pounded, a deafening drum in his ears. His lungs burned, his muscles ached, but he couldn't stop, he wouldn't stop.

Then, an image flashed in his mind.

The woman.

He skidded to a halt so fast he nearly collapsed. His fists clenched as he tried to steady his breath. She was the only thing different today. The only thing that had changed.

Her golden eyes. That teasing smile. The way her fingers had traced his skin, cold, tingling, like lightning.

She had asked about the baron.

Bel's gaze snapped toward the distance, toward the thick smoke rising against the evening sky.

The manor.