Nomad {Editing}

::Epilogue i:: Awake

Hands gripped him suddenly from every side, grabbing him tight and choking the air from his lungs. Again he would have shrieked were it a possibility, but even as it felt like he was dying he had no choice in the matter.

Shadows began to crowd his vision until he was all but blind, only silhouettes of the strange monsters being properly visible and they were quickly the only thing he could see. He was drowning in the darkness and quickly beginning to fade.

Only now did the pain begin to falter from his system and he could breathe again, but he knew it was too late. There was no escape from what he had before believed to be a nightmare, and he was sure this would be his end.

Giving into his fate of death, Charlie gave up all attempts of trying to escape this hell, he closed his eyes and tried to calm himself. If he was going to die, he was going to try and do it with dignity as his father had always told him.

Darkness at last took over his vision completely, and the world seemed to fall away from him.

Then and only then, did the young boy wake up.

It seemed to take an eternity before his eyes adjusted to the bright room, lights beamed down at him like heavenly light. He flinched, squinting against the pain he let out a snarl but little sound other then a squeak came from his tortured throat.

The sound seemed to creep from his throat, despite how desperate he was to make it, it wouldn't have woken a restless babe from their sleep. Let alone draw the attention of anyone who could help him.

Pups have made a more intimidating sound then he was able to in that moment.

Whilst the pain was gone, but a distant memory of a quickly fading dream. The inability to move remained, and he was left helpless in the bed. Only able to flick his gaze from side to side, and move his fingertips a little.

Again the panic began to sweep through him, this time stained by the confusion and fear.

He wasn't in his own bed, nor somewhere that he recognised. Though the smell was faintly familiar but in that moment he didn't care. The fear was ensuring that there was little logic left in his brain.

A strange smell, almost metallic and thick, filled his nose to the point where he could smell little else. He could barely recognise it, knowing it only as something from a past dream that he couldn't put his finger on.

Yet even that scent was almost entirely overwhelmed by something else. All he could think to describe it as was sickeningly clean. Like life had never touched this room, and it was purely, perfectly hygienic. Free from anything which made a place feel like a home.

Forcing his young nose to push past the clean smell and something stranger, he sought desperately for anything that he could recognise. He didn't care in what form he found it, Charlie was filled with the need to know something. Anything.

But no matter how hard he searched he found nothing but the two strange smells.

He couldn't remember a time he felt lonelier.

Either way it was one of the worst things he had ever scented, and it sickened him to his stomach. Charlie swallowed the bile which was slowly rising to the back of his throat, trying to ignore it as best as he could.

So he did the one thing he could think to do.

Yell for his mother.

Fortunate that he had managed to find his voice again, and whilst it still hurt a little it gave him some form of defence.

"Mum?" He cried, the panic rising to the back of his throat as he searched the dark room for the familiar figure of the Queen. With little room to move, he couldn't see a great deal outside of his peripheral vision.