Chapter Four

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**Author's Note: Before you read, I just wanted to say that I've set up a blog post to announce preorder details for this book, which will be released on Feb 11th.  So please check out my blog: projectnevermor.wordpress.com**

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Forsaken Dreamscape

copyright 2013 Lani Lenore

Chapter Four

1

Black over black, Wren was in a world without light or sound – the abyss of unconsciousness.  When her vision finally cleared, she was peering down a stretch of dark beach, but she was not coherent enough to question it.  She was dreaming.

This place seemed familiar and yet so different to her now.  The water was as dark and thick as blood.  The sand was sharp black gravel.  Though the pointed edges pricked her bare feet, she walked for a while, barely able to balance on her own legs.

She knew that she was searching for something, but it seemed like a fruitless task.  She was alone here.  There was no eerie hum of a flute as she’d heard in the past, only the wind whipping around her ears.  The roaring ocean waves were the only things that were alive.  A rain of ash clouded her vision, and she could not see the island for the haze.

Is this death? she wondered.  It was certainly not the world she had sought so desperately.

Moving on, she was able to see a form in the distance, set off against the light of the moon.  Someone was standing there, dressed all in black, and she was certain that it was a boy.  She reached out for him – called his name.

Rifter?”  He didn’t move – didn’t seem to hear her at all.  She continued on, moving closer, picking up her pace.  “Rifter, please look at me!

The dark figure shifted, finally hearing her plea.  When he turned to peer over his shoulder, she saw only his eye, and it was enough to send her flailing backward, stricken with fear.

Fire!

The wicked amber eye saw her as well.  It pierced her – saw into the depth of her soul.  Wren could not breathe, desiring nothing but to get away so that it could not see her.

It's HIM!  The Scourge!

With a gasp that nearly choked her, Wren was jolted awake, her lungs heaving, her heart in her throat.  There was a cold sheen of sweat on her skin, chilling her as she fought the drowsiness from the medicine.  Her plan had worked and she had dreamed, but now she struggled to stay awake.  She did not want to go back there.

Was what she'd seen real?  Had she been walking in Nevermor, or was it merely a dream brought on by her memories?  She couldn't say, for she’d not had a dream in so long that she’d forgotten what it was like.  There was no way to know, but it left her feeling weak and horrible, nauseous.

That was not the place I remembered.

No, it could not have been Nevermor that she had seen, and she was anxious to convince herself of that.  It was some misconstrued image projected by her own mind.  Her dream was because of the asylum, because of what the doctor had said to her, and because of Adele.  They had all ruined her once-precious dream.

Despite how her heart was pounding so harshly within her, she supposed she should have been glad.  Even though Nevermor did not look as she’d expected – though her tormented mind had twisted it so – she might have been relieved that she’d finally managed to dream after so long, yet all she could think of was that fierce eye staring at her, burning into her soul.

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⏰ Last updated: Jan 15, 2014 ⏰

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