Chapter 41
Chapter 40: Echoes of the Abyss
Sophia lay curled on her narrow bed, the weight of the day pressing her into a fitful sleep. The bath had washed away the grime, but not the turmoil in her mind, the Trihydra’s gaze, Orion’s collapse, the guilt that gnawed at her. Exhaustion finally dragged her under, but her rest was far from peaceful.
Sophia settled into a restless sleep. There was no point pondering on what had happened. She needed to rest and besides it wasn’t like she cared for Orion but more that she was worried that something like that had happened in her presence.
In the depths of her slumber, the world shifted. She found herself standing in a vast, snow-laden field, the air thick with swirling flakes that stung her skin.
The landscape stretched endlessly, a white void broken only by the dark, sinuous form of the Trihydra slithering toward her. Its three heads swayed, each pair of eyes glinting with malevolent intent, their scales glinting like obsidian under the pale moonlight. The creature moved with a deliberate grace, approaching her like it had something to do with her. She moved back trying to create a little distance between them but it released a sound.
A low, guttural rumble that echoed across the field, filling her with dread. It wasn’t a sound of joy, but a mocking taunt, as if it reveled in her fear. It was like it was laughing at her.
Sophia’s heart pounded, her breath hitching as panic seized her. She turned and ran, her boots sinking into the snow, each step a struggle against the deepening drifts.
The Trihydra’s laughter followed, warping the dreamscape around her. The field twisted, the horizon bending as if the world itself mocked her efforts. She ran in circles, the beast always in her peripheral vision, its heads tilting as though amused by her futile escape.
Its eyes bore into her, a connection that felt too real, too personal, and she screamed silently, her legs burning with exhaustion.
Abruptly, the scene shifted. She stumbled, falling against the rough wood of a barricade, the same one she’d clung to during the Trihydra’s attack. The snow faded, replaced by the acrid scent of smoke and blood.
She was back at the gate, but the pack was gone. Dren, the young warrior who’d stood beside her that day, was absent, leaving her alone amid the wreckage. The barricade was splintered, the ground littered with the charred remains of tents and weapons. Black shadows writhed up from the earth, tendrils of darkness climbing her legs like living vines, cold and suffocating. She clawed at them, her nails digging into her skin, but they tightened, pulling her down.
A figure loomed before her, Orion. His broad frame was hunched, his eyes were clouded with pain. The black veins she’d seen during his collapse snaked across his neck and hands once more, pulsing with a sickly glow.
Blood gurgled from his mouth as he staggered toward her, his voice a wet rasp. “Why?” he choked out, the word dripping with accusation. “Why did you do this? What did we do to you?” His gaze locked onto hers, and the shadows seemed to pulse in rhythm with his words, amplifying her guilt.
Before she could answer, the dream warped again. The field returned, but it was a graveyard now. The pack lay destroyed around her, Brynhild’s lifeless form sprawled in the snow, Ronan’s broad body crumpled, his sword broken beside him; Dren and others she’d passed in the compound, their faces frozen in silent agony.
The sight tore a sob from her throat, the unreality of it crashing over her like a wave.
“No. No p>
Tears streamed down her cheeks, freezing against her skin as she staggered back, her hands trembling.
“This isn’t real,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “It can’t be p>
But the Trihydra reared its ugly head once more, its massive form blocking out the moon. Its wide mouth gaped, revealing rows of jagged fangs that gleamed with a sinister light. The sound returned, a deafening roar that shook the ground, and it lunged toward her. Sophia screamed, a raw, primal sound, as the beast’s maw closed in, its breath hot and rancid against her face. The shadows tightened, dragging her into darkness p>
She jolted awake, her scream echoing in the quiet room. Sweat poured from her forehead, soaking her hair despite the icy chill that had settled since the hearth died out.
Her chest heaved, her hands clutching the thin blanket as she blinked into the dimness. The night was still, broken only by the distant hoot of an owl, its mournful call piercing the silence.
The dream’s terror lingered, the Trihydra’s sound ringing in her ears, Orion’s accusing “Why?” searing her mind.
The small house was cloaked in silence, the hearth’s embers long extinguished, leaving a chill that seeped into the wooden walls.
Sophia swung her legs over the bed, her bare feet hitting the cold floor. The room was dark, the faint glow of moonlight filtering through a cracked shutter. She pressed a hand to her chest, feeling her racing heartbeat, and stumbled to the window.
Outside, the compound slept under a fresh layer of snow, the medical facility a distant silhouette against the night sky. The dream had felt so vivid, too vivid and the weight of it pressed on her, a burden she couldn’t shake.
Sophia moved to a basin of water and washed her face. Her hands shook from fear. She didn’t understand the dream. And what irked her more was that it didn’t seem like a dream. This was too real. But why will Orion say that to her?
She shook her head. This was probably due to the fact that the trihydra had looked at her. She was sure it was because she locked eyes with it. Perhaps Orion wasn’t wrong after all. She really should have minded her business and not let curiosity get the better of her.
She took in a deep breath before releasing it.
“It’s just a dream, Sophia. Whatever happened wasn’t real p>
But even as she said those words, she couldn’t shake off the feeling that something wasn’t right.