[Dream] [Week 22, Day 3] Cauught In My Own Trap
The first sensation is the sickening slap of your back against concrete and the thrumming in your skull as you recoil from being thrown, no, dragged to the ground. And you hiss and curse, palms pressing downward against cold damp concrete to try and push yourself back up onto your feet. But they scrape and slip against something that is pulling at you, yanking you by the leg across the floor, stone scratching at your sides and tearing at your clothes as you try to fight it.
And in your struggle you manage to twist and contort yourself onto your stomach as your leg remains awkwardly wrenched at another angle completely. Your hands grab for anything. A rope. A pole. A wire even, but this cuts at the flesh of your fingers as soon as it is pulled taut and you grit your teeth against the pain.
And you try to hold on. Even at the sacrifice of your fingers, you try to hold on because whatever pain there is in this instant has to be better than whatever you are being dragged to.
But your palms are quickly turning slick with red. And your fingers can’t keep their grip on something so thin. And almost as if the wire disintegrated between your knuckles you are finally tugged free and sent reeling towards the edge that awaits you. Clattering and clinking metallic sounds ring through the air and as you spin about like a fish on the line you manage to catch a glimpse of the chain coiled about your ankle, a shackle, and the green murky water that it is dragging you to.
And you realize what is happening. You have gotten caught up in your own trap.
But it’s different.
You’re not like them. You don’t have friends to save you. No one who will throw themselves into the water to free you from the anchor’s weight. Just your impending doom.
You’ve earned it, haven’t you? Isn’t this what you deserve?
And in an instant something catches you. A strong firm grip around your wrists, somehow strong enough to free you from the chains which disappear with everything else as darkness swirls up from the sloshing waters to envelop you.
And this person.
Nails dig into the skin under your arms, biting against the veins as a deep monstrous voice chuckles. And a snarling smirk with sharp white teeth, as a face, like a twisted version of your own, looks down at you.
“Caught you, master.”
[Malik doesn't wake up, just seizes and chokes, struggling against himself in his sleep and curling in tighter into a ball]