Dream Realm

The corridor seemed to close in, filled with the nightmarish creatures. Each Mara had a different twisted form, some with elongated limbs, others with gaping maws full of jagged teeth. I dodged and weaved, narrowly avoiding their grasping claws and snapping jaws.

Urgency fueled my movements as I searched for any possible escape. Up ahead, I spotted a faint, flickering light – a glimmer of hope in the otherwise dark and twisted corridor. 

Behind me, the Mara were relentless, their screams and growls growing louder, closer. I could almost feel their breath on the back of my neck. Just as one of them lunged at me, I threw myself through the source of light, hoping it would lead to safety.

I landed hard on the other side, the ground beneath me solid yet unfamiliar. Looking around, I realized I had stumbled into another layer of the dream.

As I held my head in pain, I heard a voice calling me, soft yet clear. "Are you alright?" it asked, as a hand reached out toward me.

When I looked up, my heart sank. Was this some kind of twisted joke? Standing before me, offering a hand, was Liezel. She was my friend, my comrade, someone I held dearly, yet...

"Damien, is there something wrong?" Liezel asked, her voice gentle and concerned.

"You look like you saw a ghost, my friend," a man remarked out of nowhere. Looking at his face, I recognized him as Imamu, another former fellow party member.

"Damien, you look silly, you know?" Lita scoffed amidst the tension, her familiar voice tinged with amusement.

"No, this is not real! Argghhhhh! I'm Lam Hoffman. You... all of you betrayed me! You wretched..."

Liezel, Imamu, and Lita—stared at me with confusion and concern etched on their faces. 

"Damien, what are you talking about?" Liezel asked, her voice tinged with worry. "We would never betray you."

Imamu stepped forward cautiously, his brow furrowed. "Are you feeling alright, my guy? You seem... different."

Lita remained silent, her eyes searching mine. Her usual playfulness was replaced by a somberness that unsettled me even further.

"No! This isn't real!" I shouted again, backing away from them. "You're all part of this nightmare. I am Lam Hoffman, Damien is dead!"

Liezel exchanged a glance with Imamu, concern deepening in their eyes. "Lam Hoffman? Damien, are you sure you're okay?"

Out of nowhere, Calleimus and Rohan stepped forward to calm me down, but seeing their familiar faces only intensified my distress. Especially him—Calleimus, the one who had made my previous life miserable. Even the sight of his face made me want to retch.

"Get the fuck out of my head!!!"

"Magick Prohibitae(Forbidden Magic): Ululatus Drekavack(Howl of Drekavack)."

Taking a deep breath, I screamed at the top of my lungs, emitting a screeching, deafening sound. The figures of my previous party members, covering their ears, slowly transformed into grotesque forms of Maras.

Slowly, under the intense power of the scream, their faces melted, their figures started crumbling to dust.

The realm around me shook violently, the ground vibrating as the fabric of reality itself cracked and shattered like glass.

As my surroundings shattered into pieces, I felt the ground crumble beneath me, my body tumbling down into an abyssal void. Drifting in a sea of black, I occasionally heard whispers around me that seemed familiar, though I couldn't pinpoint where or when I had heard them before.

***

As my consciousness slowly returned, I felt my back hit a hard, solid ground, jolting me awake. Blinking against the dim light filtering through dusty windows, I found myself lying on the cold floor of what appeared to be a vast library. Rows upon rows of towering bookshelves stretched out before me, filled with ancient tomes and dusty scrolls. The air was heavy with the scent of old parchment and the faint echoes of whispered conversations.

Confusion gripped me as I tried to make sense of my surroundings. The last thing I remembered was the chaotic nightmare realm and my desperate attempt to escape its clutches. Had I somehow managed to break free, or was this another layer of the dream?

Pushing myself upright, I took in my surroundings more closely. The library seemed deserted, save for the silent rows of books and the soft flickering of candles that cast dancing shadows across the ancient shelves. There was an eerie stillness to the place, as if time itself had slowed to a crawl.

Curiosity got the better of me. Unknowingly, my hand reached for one of the books as if there was some mystical force drawing me in. I felt a deep connection and an irresistible desire to open it.

As my fingers brushed the spine of the ancient tome, a shiver ran through me. The book seemed to hum with a faint, otherworldly energy. I carefully pulled it from the shelf. Dust swirled in the air, catching the flickering candlelight as I opened the book.

Suddenly, a surge of memories flowed through me, replaying key moments of my life as Lam Hoffman. Each page turned revealed another scene, another fragment of my experiences, filling my mind with a vivid, almost overwhelming clarity.

Feeling overwhelmed, I stumbled backward, dropping the book to the floor. Each page, as it fluttered open, continued to engrave parts of my memories into my mind. The images and sensations were so intense that it felt like reliving those moments all over again. I sank to my knees, trying to catch my breath, my head swimming with the flood of recollections.

"This place, I know this place... This is my subconscious..."

"I was on the right track. This means I was in between the 4th and 5th layers. A nudge should wake me up..."

Knowing I was this close to escaping the dream realm, I got to my feet and ventured deeper through the forest of books, determined to move up the layers.

The longer I walked, the deeper the forest of books seemed to stretch, and the darker the place became. The colors of the books grew gloomier with each step, and whispers emanated from the shelves. I recognized this part of my mind—this was where my memories as Damien resided.

Each step forward brought an overwhelming sense of dread. The whispers grew louder, echoing with fragments of my past life. Voices I hadn't heard in years called out to me, accusing, pleading, mocking.

"Why did you leave us?"

"Do you think you can escape your past?"

"You were a monster."

The books lining the shelves in this part of the library were worn and weathered, their spines cracked, and pages yellowed with age. The air grew colder, each breath forming a mist in front of me. I could almost feel the weight of my past pressing down on me, urging me to turn back.

I turned around to see a shadowy figure standing at the edge of the forest of books. It was me—or rather, a version of me. The figure was shrouded in darkness, its eyes glowing with an otherworldly light.

"I am Lam Hoffman," I declared, my voice steady despite the dread gripping my heart. "I have faced my past, and I will not let it control me."

The figure stepped closer, and I could see its features more clearly. It was an embodiment of my darkest regrets, a manifestation of the wrath and anger I had buried deep within.

"You cannot escape what you are," it hissed. "You cannot escape me."

With a surge of determination, I closed the ancient book and placed it back on the shelf. The whispers began to fade, and the darkness receded slightly.

"I may not escape you," I said, meeting the figure's gaze. "But I will not let you define me."

Just as I thought everything had subsided, suddenly the shelves on either side of me began to shake violently. Books toppled from their perches, crashing to the ground.

In a dread moment, the shelves burst open, sending books flying in all directions. From within the chaos emerged Maras, their twisted forms and glowing eyes adding to the nightmare. They hissed and snarled, sensing my presence amidst the chaos.

With a flood of Maras charging towards me, I leaped to my feet and ran deeper into the library, urgently searching for an escape. The aisles of towering bookshelves seemed endless, twisting and turning in labyrinthine paths.

Each corner turned revealed more of the labyrinthine library, the ancient tomes and scrolls seeming to watch silently as I passed.

As I sprinted through the maze of knowledge and nightmares, I spotted a faint glow ahead—a doorway bathed in a soft, golden light. Without hesitation, I surged forward, the Maras hot on my heels.

Just as I was about to grasp the doorknob, I glanced back over my shoulder. To my surprise, my feet halted as I saw the Maras had stopped chasing me.

They growled and groaned, their forms twitching with restless energy, yet they made no move to follow me further. Instead, they stood at the threshold of the doorway, watching me intently as if waiting for something.

Confusion and caution flooded my mind. Why had they suddenly ceased their pursuit? Was this a trap, or could it be an opportunity?