The Haunted: Revelations (Sequel to Rebellion)

Act I: Chapter 1

  Is this real?

Then that forsaken hue of pure white flashed before my vision, the heavenly color being the only thing I could see before it faded away, leaving me in a room with red walls that dripped with thick crimson and flames that gnawed at the walls relentlessly; never extinguishing. I sat on my sore knees, wounds and blood covering every inch of my slender body that was held captive by semi-transparent black chains. Herobrine stood over me, that sick smile plastered on his face. I don't even know how to describe the torture. No mortal can comprehend it. And I screamed, begged for help. But I gave up. I should have given up long ago.
I saw my own death, the magic destroying nearly everything around me, collapsing to my side as everything drained away from my being, consumed by unworldly agony. I died, but my soul never left. A spirit held captive by its own corpse.
I saw the portal, I saw Armen standing there, pain distorting his face as his blade pierced through my body under Herobrine's control, only able to get a few words out of my mouth before it all went black. I had begged for death for so long, desired it above all else aside from the safety of my family. Yet, I did not know if they were dead or alive, and frankly, I did not believe that they were alive. Without them, and with my mistakes, I felt that the world would be better off without me. Why death did not find me that day, perhaps is another consequence to my actions and decisions. I should not think that way...why do I feel so hopeless now?

You will never be free.

"Drake!" Lalea...I can hear your voice. Where are you?

Everything changed once more, a setting I had seen in my dreams before. The trees were tall, towering over everything. The clouds were dark, the smallest of water droplets raining from the sky, so few that it was barely noticeable. I was in a wide clearing, massive stones before me, one smaller and older than the rest. The engraving tightened my chest. Luke's grave...and it was accompanied by many others, too vast for me to count.

"I am sorry Armen, but I have to do this."

I turned around, spotting Armen's spirit. He stood with another person whom I did not recognize. He was a blur, his voice so distorted that my ears rung each time a word left from his mouth. He flashed and morphed as if he were a glitch on a computer program. Yet with that agonizing distortion, I knew who it was; myself.

"I'm sorry... I will see you soon!"

"Drake!" Armen screamed.

I had no idea what was going on, yet I was filled with panic. I reached out my hand, trying to stop myself from whatever the h**l I was planning that had my brother so horrified. Then I stopped. Had this version of me found a way to be claimed by death? Was this all just my broken mind playing tricks? After all, none of this made sense. Just before the fingers of my dream self clicked, it all froze. Everything began to shatter like glass, and once again I was on my knees in that netherrack room.

No. No. No. No! No! No! Please get me out of here!

"Drake!"

I look up at Lalea walking down that dark hallway. Her face shifts and distorts, staring at me with pure white eyes, a gut wrenching smile and blood covering her body.

"YoU acTualLy tHought you were free!" Her voice mixed with Herobrine's, turning completely into the demon's as his image shifted his own.

I was completely overtaken by fear. I panic as I thrash around in my bindings, unable to escape, screaming and crying for him to leave me alone. Everything fades to white, and the fear grows without reason.
...

My eyes shot open, my face and bare chest drenched in my own sweat as I shot up in my own bed. He did not hyperventilate as I seemingly snapped back into consciousness, oxygen only being a mere pleasure to stimulate the brain and no longer a necessity for my body to live. Goosebumps rose from my pale, cold skin as terror flooded my mind, leaving my thoughts as a jumbled, staticky mess.
My eyelids fluttered as I rapidly blinked, scanning my visual surroundings after adjusting to the darkness, though I was perfectly capable of seeing in the pitch black of darkness with night vision that I had naturally, strengthened after my resurrection. No light came into the room other than the faint moonlight from beyond the window.
The sharp claws of my left hand dug into the milky white sheets and queen sized mattress of our oft bed, my chest filling with pressure from almost overwhelming anxiety. My tongue clicked in my dry mouth as I attempted to collect some saliva to moisten the dry walls of my quivering maw. The muscles in my upper body felt tight but lacked a feeling pain, tendons and ligaments seeming to clench with fear and dread.
My eyes looked up at the light blue canopy and curtains that hang down, then at the blue sheets over my slender yet abnormally long legs, silently pleading that I would not fall back into a nightmare to witnesses nothing but death, to feel nothing but...emptiness. Void of all emotion. My body trembled, sweat leaking from the pores of my skin that had no reason sweat. Even tears slipped past my eyelids, slowly running down the corroded dark and smooth pale halves of my Enderman and human cheeks.
I closed my different colored eyes and continued to claw at the sheets, letting myself adjust to the surroundings I greeted as I took in deep breaths of air. My body fell back down and sunk into the mattress, relaxing as much as I could get myself to. I had no need for sleep but it often made me feel more human than what I had become, even if the feeling of being alive...often was far from worth it.