Inception {Dreamnotfound}

15 | Reverse Issues | 15

-George's POV-

In some strange way, I was right.

Yet too tired to realise it at first, disregarding the distant sound of murmuring as Clay, or not even voices at all. Through my tired haze, I manage to notice that whatever it was woke him too, but he seems far more bothered by it.

"What was that?" I ask, only to be shushed immediately after. A distant afterthought almost makes me want to roll my eyes, but a more sensible part of me knows that this could be more serious. Most likely is, given Clay's reaction.

Maybe I was right after all.

A sudden blur causes me to focus back on the situation at hand, blinking rapidly in hopes the object will fall into focus. When it subsides there's a finger pressed to my lips, and a pair of bright eyes filled wither nervous dread. My own widen in alarm upon realising that the voices are now louder.
Multiple, all clumped together...

...directly below us.

As quietly as possible, I reach for a weapon, hating that the first one in reach is that dagger. Clay does the same, grabbing a larger sword as well as his mask. No longer used to disguise his face, only to scare off those who recognise the item.

I'm suddenly tugged towards the closest wall, and I back up against it in fear. Clay seems busy fastening and adjusting straps, grabbing different supplies out of the bags within reach. For a few seconds I feel a little safer, knowing that I'm with a trained assassin. Skilled too, said to be one of the best.

But we don't know who is beneath us, or what they're capable of.

From the next room over I hear Karl's voice, shortly followed by Sapnap's, and I silently thank whatever god watches over this world that they're awake and okay. Clay breathes a barely audible sigh of relief, eyes glued to one of the gaps in the planks.

I squint at the floor, peering through the gaps in hopes of spotting something. Yet there's no sign of movement, the still pitch-black outside shielding the actions of whoever is below. I'm not sure if it's in some way a blessing, knowing that it would only scare me more to see their faces.

Though I start to wonder if it would be possible to be more terrified than I am now, and I get my answer when a different sound echoes up. The sound of wood snapping, quiet enough to be minor but loud enough to be close. It's quickly followed by the sound of another, and I realise that the sound is getting louder, but not worse. Like it's getting closer...

Someone is climbing the tree.

I try to remain as still as possible, knowing that I'm failing miserably by the way Clay watches me. There's pity in his eyes despite the look seeming understanding, and it's only when he rests a hand on my shoulder that I notice how badly I'm shaking.

His hand slips down, grazing my arm before lacing over my trembling fingers. He traces slow, soothing circles into the skin with his thumb, keeping a tight grip on my hand in an attempt to calm me.

My gaze lingers just above, focused on the matching soulmate bands resting side by side. Both matching and full of colour, representing two alive soulmates.

Alive, for now, and I try to hold that thought, convince myself that it'll remain that way for a long time after this. It does nothing to ease my worrying, made worse by the next noise, far louder than the rest.

I turn back to Clay for reassurance, some sign that at least one of us isn't terrified. His eyes dart rapidly between the floor and the wall to our left, meeting my own for barely a second to signal what to do.

We both edge towards the left wall, as quietly as we can manage. It's a painfully slow process, but it has to be. Moving any faster would be too loud, too risky, sure to give away our position.

I let Clay guide me, and reluctantly let his hand slip from mine once he signals for me to stay put, then moves a little further away. Closer to the door, dagger in one hand and sword in the other.

It's in the few silent minutes that follow that it becomes to me this definitely isn't the first time Clay has done this. He always said that Illumina's attacks were sudden, so I'd imagined this level of preparation wouldn't have been able to take place then.

But now, watching how precisely his blades are aimed, that I understand how prepared he actually is for a situation like this. Dagger aimed where someone's throat would be if they entered, blade aimed in ever so slightly to puncture an airway and most likely kill. Sword aimed lower, again at an angle, just to the right of someone's stomach.

In a way it's sickening. To imagine myself walking through that door, how long I'd last as the inexperienced fighter I still unfortunately am.

It would've been worse when I first met Clay, before he'd had time to teach me the basics. Even worse still if I hadn't been his soulmate on that night we first met, knowing that I would've been dead within seconds of attacking him. I hope it doesn't come to that now...

Until it does.

Everything that follows is a blur. The door swinging open, the figure that steps through on the other side. Two people stood ready to attack, then only one, and a black cloak is covered in red.

It's over in a matter of seconds, but the mess created remains. I have to bite the inside of my mouth to suffocate the scream that follows, and even that does little to stifle it.

I'm left with the taste of fresh blood in my mouth, and the prominent urge to be sick. Made worse when the aftermath is splattered across my face, a few droplets of blood dripping like tears.

"I really didn't want to do that," Clay grits through his teeth, kicking the black cloak with his bloodstained boots so that it covers the body beneath. He's splattered in crimson, more spilling from a small gash in his glove, but he seems otherwise unharmed.

"Well, at least we know what we're dealing with," he murmurs, and I nod silently, too scared I'll be sick if I open my mouth. The smell of the room is repulsive enough, but the sight of it is far worse. Of the blood, of everything, of the sight of my boyfriend covered in it and the scene burnt into my mind.

This doesn't feel like relapsing.

But somehow, it feels worse.