Chapter 5: 5. Demonic Sickness

Desmond slept for what felt like moments to him. In truth, he remained in a state of delirious consciousness and unconsciousness for over a week. He only ever woke up long enough to relieve himself and then drink a little from his watering can before falling asleep once more.

Of course, he wasn’t aware that he was waking up at all at these times, as it seemed his mind and consciousness was absent from his body for some unknown reason that was beyond him.

The entire time, he was assaulted by dreams that he could make no sense of; In one, he saw Calcheth before its destruction, yet he watched as it slowly eroded away into sand and then into nothingness before rising back out of the ruins and falling apart again, over and over.

In another, he gorged himself on copious amounts of meat, fruits, and bread, seemingly unable to get full. No matter how much he put in his gullet, more food continued to appear on the table and he continued to shovel it in his face, as if he were a blackhole for food.

In another, he floated in an endless void; no body of his own to speak of, as he stared into an endless nothingness. A rift formed, creating a long thin pink line in the nothingness before it spread apart; revealing a completely pink eyeball and a single, slit black pupil. It stared down at him and he stared back.

In another, he sat in a large spinning chair before it quickly slowed to a stop. He realized he was, in fact, in a large library, with shelves that extended far into the air and continued upward, past the clouds. Each shelf was stuffed to the brim with books of all shapes and sizes and, standing in front of him between the shelves, was his Father. The man looked down at his son with the same warm, brown eyes he had and smiled.

These dreams repeated over the course of the week, alongside other, shorter, dreams that he couldn’t fathom, yet each one seemed to affect him all the same; causing his body to break out into sweat as if he was breaking out into a fever.

Yet with no one around, he had no conscious choice and simply had to wait it out...

 

►⚉◄

 

Sometime later, Desmond's eyes suddenly snapped open and he sat up in a cold sweat. He looked around the cafe, his eyes wide in surprise. Light streamed in through the busted windows and, for a moment, Desmond didn’t realize where he was.

Eventually, his mind caught up and he sighed, running a hand over his forehead to clear it of the sweat that had accumulated. He smacked his lips, realizing how dry his mouth was, and languidly got up to take a drink. At the same time, he vaguely remembered ignoring the Voice sometime before. So, as he was drinking from the watering can, he decided to take a look at the alerts he’d missed.

---