The Dragon Warrior

Awakened

Fire.

Fire and pain had consumed her. The flames were licking her skin like poisonous snakes. The darkness was a blessing.

Shattered pictures danced before her eyes like butterflies, too far to reach for any of them. Memories or the result of her crazy imagination? Whatever it was, she did not enjoy it.

Broken nails with blood staining everything around. She could feel the pressure; something was crushing her body.

Screaming, neverending scream, threatening to take her voice away. Who screamed? Was it her?

Panic. Overwhelming fear, but she could not remember what was causing it, even if it still filled every part of her body.

But now, all she could feel was pain. She was drowning in the dark lake, fighting desperately to get to the surface.

- Do you think she will make it?

- We will see.

She could hear the voices coming out from the shadows and tried to follow them with her eyes, but everywhere was darkness. There was no tiniest speck of light, but it did not bother her. She was never scared of darkness.

She was drifting off and getting back, but unsure why.

Her body. She could not feel her body. She knows it is there, but it does not belong to her, not yet. She tries not to think about it. Somewhere deep inside, she feels that if she tries, everything will end. She will lose it. It does not matter.

Time. Time is another mystery. How long is she here? And what is this place? Is this a place at all?

- Any luck today?

- No. We need more time.

Time again. Time for what?

The pain is subsiding slowly. She does not want to howl in pain anymore. It is strong but bearable.

In the corner of her vision, she sees shadows. Not always, but she can feel them. Their presence is getting stronger. They are invading my darkness.

The glimpses of the past are back. She sees women; they seem to be close. The laughter and happiness fill the air. But she can't feel any emotion toward it.

She could not remember if those women were important to her. She could not remember her life at all.

She was hanging in this state, drifting through the darkness. She should be concerned about why it did not bother her, but she was not.

The voices were coming back occasionally, but their words meant nothing to her.

She was more focused on the dreams filled with screams and despair. But can you really tell what was a dream and what was not when surrounded by utter darkness?

- Her state is improving. She is far from being healthy, but she is also not on the verge of death anymore.

- How long do you think it will take for her to wake up?

- I did what I could; the rest depends on how much she wants to live.

This time, the voices were clearer. She could tell them apart. One belonged to the woman, the other to the man; at least, that was what she thought. They carried no emotions, only occasionally information about someone clearly in bad shape.

But where this person was, she could not guess, not that she cared too much about that. She had to figure out her situation. She had no strength to be bothered about others.

The darkness was not leaving her, but she noticed a slight change.

Slowly, incredibly slowly, she was again feeling my body. At first, it was like a feeling of a feather-light touch, which disappeared as soon she focused on it. But with time, it became more and more solid. She could feel her hands and feet. She could hear her heart beating. But she could not move. None of her body parts reacted when she tried to bend them to her will. It was frustrating, to the point when she was ready to scream, but of course, her lips did not listen to her.

After regaining her body, the darkness became a burden. She felt suffocated by it, like being locked in a coffin you can not open.

Panic returned with a double strength. She was trashing her mind, but her body was still as stone.

The voices were returning more often now, infuriating her. She wanted to tell them to leave her alone and take care of this dying person.

And then she understood she was this person. It was her they talked about.

But she was not dead! She was far from dead. How could they think like that?

She blocked all the sounds, focusing on her body. It became her goal to make it listen to her. She stretched her will to get some control over something that belonged to her. She will not give up, not like this.

It was an exhausting task. She could swear she had felt the sweat rolling down her face, even if she made no move. Not yet, but soon.

The dreams came back, but they were different now. They were filled with glimpses of the man's face. He was handsome, at least, in her opinion. His jaw was strong, and his eyes were sometimes cold, but she still found them attractive. She had dreamt about him being sad, frustrated, and angry, but she had never seen him genuinely smiling unless his lips were curled in a wicked grin.

But she still found him attractive. Cold and distant but attractive.

His image was calling her, and she wished to follow wherever he led her. She could feel he was an important part of her life. This man was her saviour.

She doubled her efforts, fighting against the darkness surrounding her and her body stiffness.

It finally paid off. One day, she was greeted with a tiny movement of her body. It was almost nonexistent, but she knew what she felt was real. From that day, she had tried harder. Her whole body was sweaty, but she knew she was getting better.

A mysterious man's face haunted her dreams, filling her with new energy, and she blessed him for that. Now, she was able to move her limbs with much less effort.

And then, another thing happened. There was a small c***k in the darkness, and the light was getting in through it—the exit.

She tried to reach it, but it was far away from me.

She has started grovelling towards it. It could take years, but she would finally reach it and leave this misery.

Whenever she could no longer move, she drifted into my dreams, hoping to see his face again. Now, she could see more of him.

She saw his body; it was staggering—broad shoulders, muscles rippling his skin, long muscular legs. She could kiss every inch.

He looked at her, waving his hand in a summoning gesture as if he owned her. But she knew he owned her, and she was happy about that. She started moving slowly, inch by inch, getting closer to the c***k that offered the freedom. And she felt, no, she knew this man was waiting for her outside. She could have no other purpose to live, he was enough to keep her moving.

She was cringing for hours, maybe days or weeks. Time meant nothing for as long as she felt the end of her journey getting closer.

She was exhausted but kept pushing herself forward, ripping the darkness with her nails.

Her eyes were fixed on the light in front of her , growing bigger with every movement.

She finally grabbed the edge of the darkness and held it tightly. She had made it, but her energy left her body. She could not make another move.

The last dream.

The man stood before her, his palms were touching her skin. They were cold but burned like fire. He spoke for the first time, and her body shivered from the sound of his voice.

He said the name. Her name. He freed her. Her eyes shot open.

- It took you a while. I thought you had given up.- The woman sitting on the chair closed the book she was reading and stood up.- To be honest, I admire your will to live. After what was done to you... - She left the rest of her words hanging in the air.

She turned around to grab a glass of water with a small straw and came closer.

- Drink it slowly. I am tired of forcing this on you. Not to mention the food. It was a real drag. But from now on, it should be better now. When you are done, get some rest. I will be back in a few hours with some food.

With those words, she turned around.

- It is good to see you alive, Callista.- She said before leaving.