He Couldn't Stop.

A misty, frost-like pupil flared to life.

Dean's eyes moved as he scanned his surrounding with unwavering precision. Shattered glass glistened under the dim light, stained windows told stories long forgotten, and cobblestones, cold and unforgiving , grounded him in the painful truth.

This was real. It wasn't an illusion.

It had never been.

A wave of anguish surged through him- not physical pain but a searing ache that resonated deep within his heart to the depths of his soul. He wished, more than anything, for this dream. This nightmare to dissolve, for someone to shake him awake and pull him from the suffocating grip of this endless darkness.

But there was no waking up from this.

No salvation. There w-as... nothing.

Dean's breath shuddered as a bitter laugh forced its way out. The sound, hollow and raw, as it echoed in the silence.

He knew the cold truth, yet somewhere deep down within him. He still wanted to cling onto that thread of hope, wishing it all to be nothing more than a mere hallucination.

Yet the more he pondered on it, the more he realized how stupid his hopes were.

He had also said it himself.

Having hope in this cursed land is no different than handing your soul over to the devil. He laughed, a bitter and hollow laugh as his knees buckled, the weight of the events sinking in as he collapsed onto his knees, the cobblestones beneath him felt the pain. The agony, and the faint hope that reverberated through him.

Tears came freely now, and so did his sobs. The weight of despair pressed down with unrelenting force as tears came unbidden, hot trails tracing the lines of his face.

He wished everything to be fake. How he hoped it never happened. How he wished he had never met Garren. He wished... on so many things, and despite the fact that he knew none of them would come true.

He still couldn't help but hold tightly onto them. He didn't want to believe it. What he had just gone through- Garren's betrayal.

He really wished it had never happened.

There and then, It felt as though something within him had broken as he finally understood why despair and desperation are one of the strongest emotions.

They would claw at one's heart, slam against the walls of one's mind and chew one from the inside out.

Leaving nothing but a hollow darkness behind.

He laughed, a crazy laughter. His eyes devoid of any warmth. His voice icy cold and chilly, as he rose to his feet. His legs shook, tears fell freely from his eyes. Yet he rose to his feet. A man can be beaten but a man can never allow himself to be broken.

He couldn't.

For once, he tried to look through the abyss of endless despair and agony.

He tried to peer through them and glimpse onto something useful. And the truth was Garren was a great mentor. Perhaps not a family nor a friend.

But as a mentor, Garren had gone far and beyond. He had gone as high as the mountains in the north could stretch. He had taught him what he would have otherwise never known or perhaps spent years knowing.

Garren, traitor though he was, had taught him survival- how to reset bones, discern safe food from poisons and navigate the cruel terrains of this cursed land. Lessons that now felt like bitter gifts.

"Thank you," Dean whispered, the words tasting sour and bitter.

He realized then that betrayal was not the end but a lesson. Trust was the greatest danger of all, and he would never forget it. He wouldn't.

With newfound resolve, Dean rose to his feet, the trembling of his legs ignored, down to the pain that rippled through him. To the hollowness, the despair and the desperation that tightened around his chest like a vice.

Tears still tracked down his face but they no longer defined him. His eyes were now sharpened, focused on the only thing that mattered now- survival and escaping from it.

There and then, memory resurfaced on his final moments with Garren- The Amaraith.

How did i know its name?

No, he didn't just know the name.

His pulse quickened, as understanding dawned on him amidst the ominous familiarity that clutched onto his mind.

Amaraiths- born from the fractured emotions of a forgotten goddess who wept over a betrayal so profound, it splintered her essence into beings capable of embodying emotions.

From their ability to emotionally bond with their victims, to their mask that emits positive aura to the Durakxis saturation trigger.... The Heart clutch ritual and finally the supernatural metamorphosis.

He knew them all!

Slowly, the hidden pieces and clues fell together, falling and morphing into something wholesome.

Durakxis!!

Durakxis!!!

It echoed within his mind, hitting hard and fast, brutal and unforgiving even. His eyes went blank for a second there, tears threatening to fall from his eyes.

There! He had been given the most cryptic warnings.

Yet it said it all. It was short, cryptic even.

But it revealed it all.

It said it all, and yet, he had failed to catch what he- the past him had thrown at him.

He got blinded by hope.

By a desperate want for companionship.

For a family to call his.

Dean's eyes grew moist and red as tears streamed down the corner of his eyes. Falling freely onto the hardened cobblestones. Soft and subtle, yet they carried emotions better left hidden.

Emotions better left alone.

But even after all this, he still wished for them. He yearned so much for them. And really, was it too much to ask for?

Was it!

Tears and sobs weaved into the desolate atmosphere, the endless darkness the only source of comfort in this wretched and cursed land.

His knees threatened to buckle under the weight that sank onto him.

Yet he refused to fall.

He refused to be broken.

He had always been able to overcome every single obstacle thrown his way, and this one would be no exception. This wouldn't be any different from the rest. No matter what it took, not only would he succeed, he would find a way.

He would find a way to leave this cursed land.

No matter what it took him.

He would leave this wretched land.

A faint, weak yet powerful smile that promises tales of unimaginable mystery and horror slowly unfurled within this small, desolate corner of the world.

Dean forced a laughter, the endless despair and sorrow sinking into the ground beneath his feet.

Layers of weird surging flames burning them from within him.

He would be free! Free from the shackles of emotions. Free from pain and agony. He wanted to be free from them all. He hated them.

They were painful. Agonizing.

They were just too much to take in. He wanted them to stop. To come to an end.

And he would do anything to get rid of every single one of them. He would.

With clenched hands and hardened resolve, Dean stepped into the endless darkness before him as his mind raced with frantic thoughts.

Ways to defeat the Amaraith.

Yet all except one fell into a bottomless abyss of unending failure.

It soon dawned on him. He only had a way to win this battle.

A single way of attaining a seemingly impossible victory!

He had to find an object imbued with an unbreakable promise or emotion.

And he would find it, no matter what it took him.

He would. He had to.

There was no other way.

Either he finds it or he stays stuck in this unending cycle of pain and agony.

And he had rather do everything in his prowess to find this object than go through everything all over again.

His eyes blazed furiously, heart pounding hard and fast as he dashed into the distance, untouched by the illusory forces that permeated the very corners of the haunted house.

He bolted out of the house into the endless darkness beyond as the space behind him morphed and warped until the haunted house receded into the endless darkness beneath it.

Yet Dean didn't stop as he raced towards an uncertain future.

He didn't stop, not even to glance back.

He couldn't.

He wouldn't.