Ashen Reign

Chapter 9

The darkness was overwhelming. No matter how hard she strained her eyes. No matter how many layers she pulled away with her glamours, the darkness wouldn't go away. She found herself running aimlessly through the dark, grasping the air in front of her – hoping, praying she'd find something – anything to hold on to. Something to ground her and calm her climbing anxiety, but it was useless. She couldn't bring herself to stop though. She knew she had to keep going. She had to get to her. She could hear her calling out to her. It was distant, but she could just make out Becca's voice over the hammering of her heart. She couldn't stop. She couldn't leave her friend in this dark hell alone. She had to reach her. No matter how far she ran though, her voice remained a distant echo.

She knew she was dreaming. Knew she would never reach her. Knew that the reason each step she took became heavier wasn't due to exhaustion, but rather from the blood pooling around her feet – knew that when the darkness finally dispersed – knew that she would find her friend clutching at her lovers dead body. Would find her crying out, blood coating her hands, red-rimmed puffy eyes staring out from beneath the mop of strawberry blonde hair that clung to her face. Would find a hollow shell of her friend. Would meet those dead eyes and hear the words that would break her for yet another night in a row.

It didn't matter the dream was the same every time. It didn't matter that she knew her friend had told her to go. Each night she would wake up in a cold sweat, sobbing herself. At least when she woke up this time, she likely wouldn't find herself screaming like she had the first night. Luke had nearly had rushed into the barracks like a mad man ready to slaughter the guard who hurt her. The rest of the barracks had been less concerned and more irritated by the disturbance than anything.

After clawing through the darkness for what could only have been minutes, but felt like hours, her eyes met the emerald green eyes that were as broken as she felt when she uttered the killing blow.

"How could you forget about him? About me?" She sobbed for the third night in a row. "Why couldn't you save us?"

With those words, Hailey found herself back in her bed, clutching at the sheets of her bed hard enough to tear the fabric and her blanket strewn across the floor. Despite the chill in the air, her oversized shirt clung to her body and her hair was matted to her head with sweat. A quick glance towards the windows along the top of the room told her it was far from morning. Barely a sliver of light filled the room from the moon. Once the pounding of her heart had settled, she could make out the subtle sound of snoring coming from the bunk above her. For her bunkmate to not have woken up from her tossing and turning, they must have returned earlier in the night to be in that deep of a sleep. That meant the guard shifts had already rotated then. It couldn't have been later than four in the morning then.

Despite another night without sleep, she found herself grateful. One less Guardian she woke up with her nightmares, meant one less Guardian in the barracks that glared at her. Hailey wasn't quite sure which was worse though – the glaring or the ogling by those who had never seen a human. At least she could return the feelings of despise that most had for her. After Grayson had disappeared with the man when they arrived, Luke had brought her to the guards barracks. They were in the middle of a shift change, so she had the pleasure of running into the masses all at once – while caked in mud. Truly a wonderful time.

Luke had shown her to the shared changing quarters, gave her some spare training clothes they had on hand, and pointed her towards an open bed. There were women in the guard, but not enough to warrant another barracks so they all shared living quarters. The bathrooms had stalls so it wasn't a terrible arrangement, if she didn't find herself up at three in the morning each night that was. With everyone long asleep or out on duty, a rhythmic squeaking of springs had the tendency to fill the room – coupled with the occasional moan, she found herself trying to bury herself back into the escape that was her recurring nightmare.