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The
creaking of the ship’s wooden panels was something he was used to. Over the
years, the creaking became a sort of lullaby to him, but with each creak, he
saw them standing over him as he lay in his bed. Giant brown and green orcs,
glaring down at him with reddened eyes, closed fists, and daggers ready to
pierce at him. And just like that, they were gone. The ship would sway once
more and as the creaking returned, so did the flashes of orcs. The life-like
savages would get closer and closer to him each time the ship made that high-pitched
noise. The first times they started appearing in front of him, Cristianno
grabbed Alaia, throwing his body over her in an attempt to protect her from the
fists flying at them.
But
there was nothing.
It
seemed that every time he closed his eyes, the orcs appeared, aiming a his
arms, his face, his body. Every time he blinked, Cris saw them; so keeping his
eyes open was the only solution. His body ached from the real injuries, and
without rest, he would not heal properly. Every chance he had, he would try to
sleep, but it was becoming an impossible task. Alaia had started to wake up and
it pained him to see her awake because she looked extremely exhausted.
The
night terrors had returned and he was growing tired of them. Why me, he constantly asked himself.
Without answers or anyone to help him, he feared he wouldn’t sleep anymore.
He
blinked. For that slight moment, he saw the brown fist flying toward his face.
He gasped and his eyes open widely. No one was there. Leaning his head back
against the wooden wall, he stared at the ceiling, yearning for the terrors to
leave. Usually, someone beside him would be enough to ease the terrors, but
this time, he worried for Alaia. He worried that the orcs would get her, or
that they would get her with the hot, iron brand and damage her smooth skin.
There
was an orc.
There
were two.
There
was a fire.
He
could hear the other prisoners.
He
was back in the cell.
No
one would save him.
You’re a fool, Cristianno.
Cris
kept his eyes open and slowly glanced around the room. That last voice was
hers. He heard it clearly. He was sure of it.
“N-Niela?”
he whispered so softly, that it almost wasn’t audible, however, no one
responded. The ship creaked once more and when he blinked, he saw her there in
front of her, nose close to his, shining green eyes staring right at him, and a
wicked red smile.
“Hello, husband.”
The
second he opened his eyes, he felt a jolt throughout his body, his arms
reaching for Alaia in a protective fashion. It
was a terror and nothing more, he thought. He made the mistake of blinking
once more, in which he saw Alaia covered in blood and a second later, she was
fine, managing to sleep through his terrors. He felt her stir beside him as he
held her tightly.
He could not close his eyes.
He
knew he must not sleep.
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