Chapter 11: The demons Smile, and the devil's tremble...

As Grim succumbed to a deep sleep, he was thrust into a bewildering dream that unfolded like a Picasso painting, a vivid odyssey.

He first found himself wandering in a fatasimal forest, the trees whispering secrets as their leaves rustled in an unfelt breeze.

As Grim was admiring the nature around him a large wise-looking wolf suddenly appeared beside him, its eyes brimming with an unspoken understanding.

"Who are you?" Grim asked the wolf, more out of curiosity than expectation of an answer. The wolf merely wagged its tail and led him on, its pace slow.

The scenery then abruptly shifted to a vast, scorching desert. The dog vanished, leaving Grim alone under the oppressive sun.

A fragile baby blackbird fluttered at his feet, its tiny frame trembling.

Grim knelt, gently scooping the bird into his hands. "How did you end up here..." he murmured, shielding it from the harsh environment.

As quickly as it had appeared, the desert landscape dissolved into an urban jungle, vibrant and chaotic.

The blackbird transformed into a limping, bloodied pony, its eyes conveying a deep sorrow.

He knew those eyes all too well, he held that same expression for over twelve years.

Grim reached out, stroking its mane. "What pain you must bear. Your just like me...aren't you" he said softly, his voice laced with empathy.

The city melted away, replaced by an expansive ocean.

Grim found himself submerged yet breathing freely, surrounded by a mesmerizing dance of a colourful school of fish and other aquatic life.

The pony, now a graceful sea creature, healed and majestic, guided him through the depths. Grim observed, awestruck by the underwater scenery.

But the serenity was soon fleeting. The ocean darkened and dried up into a desolate wasteland, echoing with the distant sounds of battle and screams of men, women and even children.

The sea creature morphed into a war-torn steed, carrying Grim across the ravaged land. "From beauty to despair," Grim remarked, his voice tinged with an unknown emotion.

The dream's intensity escalated, landscapes and scenes shifting rapidly.

Grim witnessed a field of vibrant flowers suddenly engulfed in flames, a tranquil valley collapsing into a chasm. "What does it all mean?" he pondered aloud, trying to make sense of the chaos.

Grim then suddenly stood atop a mountain, surveying the world below – a collage of every scene he had encountered appeared before him.

Each landscape filtering through like a tape recording...

The wolf, the bird, and the pony rejoined him, "Are you guides? Guardians? Or mere figments of my imagination?" Grim asked, trying to seek answers...

As they watched the sunrise together, painting the world in hues of red and black Grim felt a sense of clarity...like he was on the cusp of comprehending what all of this meant, but not quite being able to grasp it.

Grim's journey through the dreamscape took an abrupt turn, steering away from the fantastical encounters with the animals and leading him into a memory of his past.

The dream shifted, presenting him with a third-person perspective of his own death.

He watched as if he were a mere spectator, observing the moment that had led to his current monstrous and immortal existence.

The scene unfolded with a haunting clarity.

He saw himself in the throes of death, the life ebbing from his body.

The surrounding environment was stark, devoid of the beauty that had characterized the earlier parts of his dream.

It was a raw, unembellished replay of his final moments in the living world.

And to him it was...

"Beautiful..."

As the vision of his death faded, the dream transported him to his own grave.

The scene was desolate, the grave unattended. No mourners, no loved ones, just an eerie silence that enveloped the entire site.

Grim, watching from a distance, felt a pang of loneliness, but that feeling quickly disappeared just as quickly as it came.

Suddenly, the surroundings dissolved into an abyss of darkness. All that remained were a pair of eyes – eyes that defied description.

They were demonic, monstrous, eyes that could drive men to madness, that could make even the fiercest demons tremble.

These eyes bore into Grim with an otherworldly intensity, as if teasing Grim, mocking him and his entire being, like he was nothing to it...

But Grim, even in his dream state, met the gaze without fear. His own eyes, steady and unflinching, locked onto the malevolent stare.

Then, a bloodied Cheshire smile appeared beneath the eyes, stretching wide before engulfing Grim.

...

(Reality...)

At that moment, he woke up with a start, his heart racing from the intensity of the dream.

He quickly surveyed his surroundings, grounding himself in reality. 'It was just a dream,' he reassured himself, but the vividness of it lingered in his mind.

Looking down, he realized that the woman he had rescued last night was still there, cuddling close to him, using his chest as a pillow.

During his dream, his hands had moved of their own accord. One hand was gently holding her thigh, while the other was entwined in her silver hair.

The intimacy of their position was not lost on Grim. It was an unfamiliar feeling, this human contact, something he hadn't experienced in what felt like an eternity.

For a moment, he allowed himself to savour the warmth and closeness, a stark contrast to the cold isolation he had become accustomed to.

As the first rays of dawn began to filter through the window, Grim lay there, contemplating the dream and its significance.

"Was that...truly only a dream, or was whatever that thing was the reason I can't die."

The journey through the dreamscape, the revisitation of his death, the encounter with those haunting eyes – they all seemed to be pieces of a puzzle he was yet to solve...

Grim felt a mixture of emotions – confusion, curiosity, and a faint glimmer of hope.

"Maybe, just maybe, if I can figure out what that dream meant, then I can find the permanent solution of finally putting myself down...for good this time."

Lost in thought, it was only then that Grim paid attention to the sound of a kitty scratching the door and meowing.

Grim signed and rolled out of bed and did so in a way that didn't wake up the lady. He put on his pants lazily, before walking out of the room to feed the cat.

Not noticing that his actions had stirred a cranky and confused Kitty awake...