The gaining, soft wash of exhaustion numbs the back of my mind. Thoughts clouded, like a dense haze, shrouding and hushing all voices. My eyelids are weighted, and every passing moment a straining ache to keep them wide. Nothing comes with clarity; all senses dulled. I am tired.
It slouches across from me, my wavering gaze rendering it a husk; lifeless. The instructions were clear: "Under no circumstances should you look away. Do not close your eyes. Do not sleep." I've since lost track of time. The room we're in contains only the two of us, the two chairs we each slouch in, and the dull glow from the light above. I can't remember how I got here.
I feel wind. I look up, and the ocean stretches on and meets with the sun, and its orange glow is cast across the deep blue. I feel her hand on mine, and I look over to see her. She meets my gaze with a smile, and I sm- My body jerks, and the metallic jangle of chains quietly rings out. My eyes look downward, and the desperate hope her hand would still be there swallows my mind. I see bloodied skin, and chain, and flesh, and I start to panic. My body thrashes, the chains dancing as they swing, as I jerk my arms forward, and they tighten when their slack is spent. They dig further into my arms and into my hands, drawing fresh streams of blood, and I start to scream. I holler, and I plead, and I beg, and I... collapse, and I remember... and I look back to it.
My gaze rendering it a husk; lifeless, but it's no longer in its chair. It hunches, and its arms jut, contorted, beside it. I look to its face; like a mouth pressed firmly into a dark hide, trying to gnaw its way through, ajar, the sinkholes where its eyes should be like a darkened abyss. It looks human, in a way, as if it might have once been. Its legs are bent, and twisted, and frail; they meet up with the hips, and above it a bloated torso protrudes outward.
Nothing. All I feel is nothing. I can feel the trickle of blood as it runs down my forearms, the chains having dug deep into them, and hear the soft patter as it drips to the floor. I can smell the metallic air of the room, with hints of rotted meat, and decay. Exhaustion numbs everything. I look to the monster, and my eyes can no longer make its shape. The haze returns, and the voices quiet, and for a second... I feel the wind again.
A story I typed up awhile ago. Completely forgot this section existed and hadn't seen something posted in it in like 10 months, so here's my contribution.