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“Hey!” I shouted, pounding away at the door ever the more frantically. 

Come on. Please be out there!

“Dani!” I slung my words with such force that cracking sound didn’t look to be far off.

I pressed my ear against the door, praying I’d hear her down the hall, but nothing emerged from the silence. I had an awful feeling about that. For all I know, this room could be soundproofed.

“Okay,” I inhaled deeply, clenching my fists as tightly as my chest felt. “Rattle the frame. It can’t be that strong.” Even if it’s soundproofed, rattling the door should give off some noise. Let’s just hope they can hear it. This hallway felt fairly drawn out.

I nodded, backpedaled to the whiteboard, and started stretching. That door’s steel, so my demand for noise will be more than supplied if I manage to shake it.

Three, two, one.

“Please work...” I sighed with worry as I charged the frame with a flurry of kicks.

Of course, to no avail. Kick after kick impacted the frame, but it stood fast.

Throwing my weight at the door, I cried out, “Would you just budge!? Come on!” I heaved as my resolve began to wither and rot.

“Fuck...” I croaked as I slid to the floor, pulling my knees to my chest.

Hopefully, they find me soon. I don’t need to be in here longer than I have to. 

I guess I’ll just blare music and see wh... wait, my phone. Why didn’t I think of that sooner?

Almost instinctually, my hand darted to my jacket’s pocket and withdrew my salvation.

“They better have their pho...” I trailed as my faith for rescue was pulverized by futility.

Goddammit, there’s no signal. Why would there be? Positive things seem to be foreign lately...

“Look at the bright side, Ethan...” I mumbled as I set my phone on the ground.

That vent in the center? It’s emitting heat, so you aren’t freezing. That’s a plus, and you’re not claustrophobic, so you aren’t freaking out. Always a shining light in the darkness.

That’s two positives. What else? Right, I have a fancy reinforced window that I’m pretty sure I can’t break, so I have a ‘beautiful’ view. It’s not like I’d want to shatter it either. Getting peppered with glass shards isn’t on my to-do-list. Besides, I’d be better off trying to ask the window to open than using that...

The whiteboard... maybe that panel’s open now?

“Doesn’t hurt to check.” I reasoned as newfound optimism was planted. The worst-case scenario is that there’s nothing.

I got to my feet, practically ripped the board off the wall with my budding faith alone, and felt a smile take me.

“It’s open?” I beamed as blossoming hope wrapped me in its tendrils. There’s a single red button about twice the size of a quarter.

“Yes!” I dropped the board to the floor, barely repressing the urge to jump for joy.

I reached forward and slammed my hand down, a spin towards the door following it.

“Okay,” I sulked and started pleading as reality kicked me in the teeth. “You don’t need to fuck with me, Door! I get it! You have me trapped,” I paused for an unintentional dramatic effect. “Now, if you could please just let me the hell out, that’d be appreciated!”

It didn’t do anything. The door didn’t move, and the window lacks change. Hell, the vent’s still shooting out warm air too.

“Citrus?” I wrinkled my nose as a fragrance worked its way up my nostrils. Why am I smelling... it’s coming from the vent. Is that all the button does? Who sits down and goes: “Hey, that button we’re designing? It’s actually just an air freshener.”

“They better find me so...” I faltered mid-sentence as a yawn stomped on the will of my words. “Jeez, why am I so ti...”

So exhausted all of a sudden. Did that vent? Why would it though? If these rooms are meant to keep people here, why give them the option to put themselves out?

Sluggishly, I cast a glance back at the button as my eyelids took on the weight of the sky.

“Maybe...” I let another yawn flutter through the air. “Take a nap.”

I went to slump against the door, but instead, slammed against it with such intensity that bruises were a possible future.

My legs crumbled beneath me, the floor letting out a soft thud in response.

I nuzzled into a corner right when my vision started to blur. It’s... so hard to think, feels like I’m a million miles away, and my brain’s trying in vain to catch up.

To say I fought my burning desire to sleep would be an outright lie. To say I fought anything at all would be pushing it. It was a minute, at best, before I sang the siren’s song of ever-tempting slumber.

- - - - -

“W-where?” I coughed as I finally came to. I’m not in that room anymore? Did everyone get me out while I was sleeping? The sky? It’s perfectly clear... I can see the stars.

“Glad it stopped,” I let out a sigh of relief as I went to wipe the sleep from my eyes. It might not actually be hell getting back home.

“What?” I said aloud when I realized my left arm wasn’t cooperating.

Glancing down, I felt my heart skip a beat as the nerve wracking scene before me wrapped its claws around my neck. Why... why is my arm chained to a table? And why is there an empty chessboard set out?

“W-what’s going on?” I muttered under my breath as I yanked my left arm in a ploy to free it. Nothing, it barely budged. All I was granted were the hopeless rattlings of a handcuff binding me to the table’s leg.

“Come on,” I took a deep breath in some vain idea that I’d snuff out the beginnings of my panic.

What? Why isn’t there a keyhole? Why the fuck isn’t there a keyhole? Who makes a damn handcuff that doesn’t open? How did this get on my arm if that’s the case?!

I tried kicking the table, and even getting to my feet in an effort to drag it with me, but it was nailed down. I was offered little choice at the moment. Either sit in that red and gold chair or pace around.

“Come on, Ethan,” I told myself as I plopped into the chair, scanning the environment as I tapped my fingers along the table to stay calm. You have to find something to get you out of this.

Just take your time, absorb every last detail. Panic if someone suspicious comes by. You don’t wake up handcuffed somewhere for fun. This is clearly the handiwork of another.

An endless field of ash circled me. No sight of active civilization was near. All that stood were the husks of broken brown bricked buildings, their design origins very much foreign to me. Rows of rusted and withered streetlights coated my flanks. A harsh wind was a constant here, it kicking up bright pink rose petals everywhere.

The sky was clear, giving me a gorgeous view of the twinkling stars dotting the azure heavens. Despite its clarity, rain was melting down from the stars, dying the world’s every hue with strokes of blue. The rain left no marks, however. Wherever it struck, it simply dissipated in a puff of dust.

“Dreaming...” I laughed as the warmth of reprieve torched my anxiety to a crisp. “I’m dreaming.” I fell back into my chair, brushing a strand of ash-laden hair from my eyes. Finally, some luck! I thought I was screwed there for a second.

“Hello,” a female voice, one as sweet as honey, softly spoke up from behind me. “May I ask how your day’s been? This isn’t a dream, by the way.” The girl laughed softly as she came into view, her brunette hair blowing in the wind.

My blood went cold seconds after her words registered. If it’s not a dream... then she has to be. She’s the one who chained me here. The only other possibility is if she knows the person who did. That’s just as bad if that’s the case.

“S-stay back,” I warned her, hand raised in a pitiful attempt at defending myself as she came to a stop on the opposite end of the table. “I d-don’t want any trouble. J-just let me go...” My voice cracked like a dry twig on cold autumn ground.

Waving her hand back, the chair pulled itself out for her. “Relax,” she cast me a smile rivaling the warmth of a summer breeze as she took a seat. “I just wanna talk.” She nodded assuredly as she snapped her fingers, a flurry of chess pieces materializing on the board. “And play a bit. I’m quite fond of games, aren’t you?”

“No,” I shook my head slowly as I began pulling at my chain. “Please, just let me go. Y-you have the key to this, right?” I gestured to my binding.

With a tinge of disappointment behind her... green eyes? No, wait. They’re blue now? Grey? Amber? Hazel? They keep changing. It’s like someone’s pulverizing the random button on her eye color.

“You don’t have to lie.” She sniffled as if my words tore at her sense of self. “I get you’re scared and confused, but you shouldn’t fib to people. It makes them sad when they find out...” She shook away her sorrow. “Exceptions withstanding, of course. I know you play quite a bit of videogames, so clearly, you have an affinity for them.”

“What are you talking about?” I blinked a few times, praying she’d go up in smoke. I yanked my arm up with so much force dislocating it wouldn’t surprise me, screaming, “Just let me go!”

“Tell you what,” She cocked her head to the side as she slowly twirled a strand of her curly hair. “We finish a single match of this, and I let you go, mkay? I’m only here to help.”

I fell into silence as her words registered—her gaze... her overall demeanor, in fact. It’s as if she’s going out of her way to make me feel welcome and ease my worries. What is up with this girl? And why is it working somewhat?

“What choice do I have?” I sighed as I waved her on. “Get this over with.” I’m waiting for it. ‘Oh, I’m here to help... help you lose a limb!’ or something like that. There’s a catch to her, there has to be.

“Let’s change it to something more appealing, hm?” She beamed as she bit into her finger, drawing out purple ink? “Purple’s your favorite color, right?”

How does she know that? Literally, two people in my life are aware of that. My favorite color ain’t exactly a common question in my day to day life.

“That’s why you bought those amethyst earrings, correct?” She queried as she pressed her finger firmly into a white square, dying it the same shade of violet. The purple spread out in seconds, hungrily consuming every speck of white in its path as if it were being guided.

“I-i don’t wear earrings.” I spat back, a pinch of aggression squirming its way into my tone. Please, just be fake or something. There’s no way someone could know I bought those...

“Of course you do. Please don’t lie,” she pled with me, her forehead wrinkling in concern. “You can go first,” she signaled me on as she bit into another finger, extracting a sapphire blue. Her pieces replicated the process as I shakily grabbed a pawn, moving it up two spaces.

Mimicking my movements, she sighed as if she just recalled a tragic memory. “You know my least favorite part of games?”

In silence, I responded with the moving of another pawn as she prattled on.

“Losing,” she mumbled, “specifically, when other people lose.” We exchanged a few more moves, ultimately resulting in me losing a piece.

“But sometimes it’s necessary,” she continued as she raised her pawn to swipe mine aside. “Especially now. Other times, though? It just serves to make people sad.”

Eyebrows raised, I replied as she slammed into my piece with the force of a truck, sending it flying toward a distant lamp. “Then why pl-” My words were struck down when I noticed the lamp quivering, its head violently convulsing.

With the sound of shattering glass, the lamp head stretched out toward the piece, the middle of its head separating. It lurched forward and caught the bit in its newly birthed maw, voraciously licking its lips as it swallowed. It displayed a grin so curved a sickle would be hopeless to compete.

“The fuck?” I mouthed as a chill ran up my spine, the lamp returning to its former state. She’s not gonna do that to me... is she? Brain, please. Wake me up now for the love of god!

“They won’t hurt you. And neither will I,” She stated, drawing my attention back to her. “They’re just cleaning up after us.” She pointed a finger to my bound hand. “Discarding what isn’t needed.”

Following it, I felt my breath, along with my newfound fear of streetlights, join a flurry of rose petals on their way out. My hand, when did purple ink get on it? Before I could speak, she touched her finger to my hand, absorbing the purple to reveal the new oddity. It looks nothing like it did just moments ago. It’s... almost feminine. No, not almost... it is.

My hand’s slender. The nails, too... perfectly filed and maintained. I brought my other hand to it and only grew more confused. 

It feels real. More real than even the most lucid of my dreams could hope to replicate.

“Your move.” She beamed, placing a compact within arms reach. “Unless you’d like to forfeit.”

I was in shock. What the fuck’s going on?

She pressed me on, “please make your move. It’s not nice to make others wait.” 

I didn’t care about my piece, I was too fascinated with my hand. I just tossed a pawn to the lamps, all while my other hand was dyed with a violet essence.

Both my hands... they look like they belong to a girl.

“Told you, I was here to help,” she hummed as her finger greedily lapped up the ink. “I hate seeing people who are unhappy. Didn’t you detest your old hands?”

Locking eyes with her, I desperately fiddled with the handcuff, unintentionally throwing another piece away thanks to my bewilderment, “d-do I... know you?”

Walking her fingers to a rook, she slid it over, replying as she drove my piece off the board. “You should.”

“You should,” I mouthed as a hand sprouted from the ash, gradually coating my foot in ink as it retreated to its ashen refuge.

“You heard me correctly,” she cooed, her eyes rife with sympathy, motioning for me to make my move. She didn’t touch my leg this time. Instead, she patiently sat there, eagerly awaiting my action.

This has to be a dream. There’s no way a girl with rapid-changing eye colors and ravenous streetlights could actually exist. Weirdest damn dream I’ve had in years, but it’s not reality. I’m gonna have one hell of an entry for my dream journal tonight, though.

I glanced at that board and noticed the grave I was currently digging. I haven’t taken a single one of her pieces. My first casuality effectively drowned my focus in bewilderment. It’s still difficult to plan out my moves. My hands are throwing me off.

“Before we continue,” she waved her hand over her set of pieces, summoning a cloud of smoke that quickly dispersed to reveal a collection of items. “I’d like to extend this gift.”

The objects before me seemed to have no rhyme or reason behind them. My left, a transparent blue bottle with a radiant forest green liquid inside. The center, an ancient dagger that looked to be worn to almost nothing, traced by a blood-red aura. The right, some sort of string with a cosmic blue glow. Something you’d use for a bow it looks like.

I went to open my mouth but was stopped as the items dissipated into three thick vapors, each in their respective colors. Before my words could escape me, they dove straight down my throat, permeating my mouth with the taste of a myriad of differing sweets.

“Please take it back,” I coughed so harshly I could swear I just stripped my throat raw. I glanced back down at the board to be met with a menu? When did that get there?

Class: Hunter

Crafting Type(s): Nurture, Yearning, Duality.

Progenitor(s): Nier, Yuul, Dismas.

Class? Crafting Types? Progenitors? Is my dream a game now?

“Let’s proceed,” she fluttered her eyelashes at me.

Reluctantly, I nodded, realizing I was in no better position than when I started. Fingers crossed that I wake up when our match ends.

I didn’t put up much of a fight. It’s not that I was terrible at chess. It was my body. Every time I lost a piece, what little composure I had deteriorated further, the ink slowly slinking upward until it reached my chin. Nothing, barring my hands, was devoid of the ink’s cold grasp.

“Hope to play again soon,” she laughed playfully as she moved her queen in for the kill, announcing, “check.” Please wake up soon...

“What are they?” I stumbled over my words as I directed a trembling finger to the streetlamps. They’re fighting each other? D-did that one just behead its friend?

“Fighting over who gets the king,” she let out a sigh reeking of nostalgia as a gust of wind yanked my gaze to my backside. “Yours should be an especially delectable meal.” That’s a hole... it’s like a whirlpool of swirling ash. And it’s getting closer...

I swiveled my gaze back to her just in time for her to jump the table, landing just in front of me.

Waving her hand around, the chain binding me snapped into a thousand pieces as she wrapped her hands around my own, giving me a gentle squeeze, “I told you this wasn’t a dream.” She moved so close I could feel her cold breath. “You’ll realize it soon, hopefully. Denial’s such a dreadful emotion. One you are so very familiar with... unfortunately.” Are her eyes wet? Is she crying?

Slowly raising her leg, she prepared for the coup de grâce... my drop into oblivion. Please be lying! Please be a dream!

Whispering into my ear, she cooed so tenderly she was on track to beat out Violet. “May the reality you reach out for be as warm as the sun that once pulled our realm from darkness.”

“W-wait,” I stuttered as the ink started crawling up my cheek. “P-please do-”

With a deep breath, she punted both me and the chair cleanly into the air, allowing me to capture two parting visages as the furniture dissolved into ash. Both images so bone-chilling, I felt like I was being drenched in arctic water.

The first sight was her.

With joy in her step, the girl twirled, kicking up a flurry of ashen rose petals as she flicked my king to the lights. It flew through the air in such a way that it almost possessed sadness. It didn’t dissuade its predator. A lamp seized it with its teeth, snapping it in two as its siblings jumped on the poor object, swiftly turning on their comrade for the other half of their meal.

And the second, the words she was mouthing.

“Welcome to Alceria, Aria.”

Dely

I feel like I should specify this since it's been a week. The next chapter for Viicirne will drop after we get a bit further along in this.