Fools of the Game

“Dreygo! Dreygo!” The voice was soft and echoing.

That comforting voice that had been pushing himself to become reliant on the moral values of humans, rather than what he had inherited in Hell rang like silver bells in his hearing. Moments ago, there were loud and discomforting volumes of Earth, large thuds, and explosions, but all were replaced by serenity and peace. Utter quietness. Only the humming of cold draught was only discernable at the moment.

“Dreygo! Dregyo! Wake up!” The voice again loomed.

The harbinger had been floating in a comfortable caress of soft snow. He could feel it even in his subconsciousness. He felt soft fingertips caressing his face. He felt his hand grasping another hand. He felt sorrow and worry that sank deep into his bones.

‘I should not wake up. I need to remember more.’ He screamed in his thoughts.

“Good! You're awake. Thanks to the Universe!” Elaine gasped.