Chapter 105

Opal's POV

Before, the nightmares would creep in slowly, wrapping her in a fog of unease. This time, it hit like a snare snapping shut. No transition. No warning. One moment she was drifting, the next she was thrown into a twisted world that felt more real than her waking life.

The forest around her was monstrous. The trees loomed impossibly tall, their branches like skeletal fingers clawing at the sky. The bark wasn't just dark—it oozed, a slick black ichor that dripped to the ground in slow, deliberate drops. Each drop hit the dirt with a faint hiss, and where it landed, the ground writhed. Something beneath the soil shifted, squirmed.

The air was heavy. It pressed on her chest, humid and thick, carrying a stench of decay and iron. She tried to breathe, but every inhale brought the taste of rot and blood.