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80% Black on the Moon / Chapter 4: Wake up!

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Chapter 4: Wake up!

Abruptly opening his eyes, he was on a bed but this time, he wasn't anywhere he recognized. It was a place he had never been to. He still wore the same black one piece suit so he knew that something had at least changed.

The wetness of his feet must mean he hadn't been here for too long but with all these illusions, he wasn't even sure anymore. He sat up and darted his eyes all around the bare room.

From where he sat, he could see the wooden floors and the matching but darker wooden walls. He tried to get out of bed, pulling one leg down then the other, each feeling like lead. He stood up.

The greenest eyes he had ever seen before were suddenly in his line of sight, so close it startled him. He jolted and fell back on the bed. From further away, he could now see the owner of the crystalline eyes.

It was her, it was the woman!

"It's you!" He shouted to her face. Her mouth moved to reply but the words seemed to pass through him. He could not hear a sound she was saying. His face scrunched up.

He finally got to her but it seemed communication wasn't something they were capable of. He watched her move her mouth, each word she said was silent to him. He focused harder, staring at her pink lips intently. Maybe the miracle from earlier when he heard her voice would happen again.

Concentration at the max, he didn't even realize his eyes had closed. He felt a hand on his shoulder, tapping him.

"Open your eyes." Her voice was soft and low. The intense feelings he felt from before exploded inside him again. This time, it was so profound that tears started to well in his eyes uncontrollably.

Rivers of fat tears flowed from his eyes, his nose turning bright red and runny. He darted away from her glance, trying and failing to stop the tears. He had his back towards her, her arm still on his shoulder.

"Stop it! Stop what you're doing!" His voice was shaky, each word coming out as a sob. He tried his best at wiping at his face but the tears kept coming.

The woman took her hand away and suddenly everything stopped. His tears dried and his runny nose cleared up. He watched as the tears that had stained his hands as he wiped at his face vanished into thin air. He turned his head slightly, meeting the green gaze. She looked not at all sorry for what she did. Instead, she looked curious, as if she had never before seen someone bawl their eyes out.

"Who are you?" Even his voice was steady now, it was as if the hysterical sobbing never even happened. She looked to her left and then back at him.

"I am Black." Again, her voice was low and soft but this time, it had an inflection in it. He couldn't tell what it was but it was how his younger brother sounded when something bothered the young man. He wasn't exactly sure if it was guilt or sadness. But either way, he knew it was somehow a negative emotion, just like Jo.

He waited for her to continue, his expression calm but prying. She stared at him intensely, one again looking to her left then back at him.

"I'm the one in charge of your sector." His sector? What the hell did that mean? He wanted to shout but he knew he needed to stay levelheaded. If he let the panic inside show on the outside, he would start a nasty panic attack. He didn't need one right now so he tried to push down the feelings. He wasn't sure how successful he was but he was going to act like it was working even as every possible scenario flashed through his head.

"What do you mean..." His voice was breaking as the panic set in. He tried again, keeping his voice at a calmer tone. "What do you mean my sector?" She hesitated.

"This isn't in your world." She gestured at everything in their surroundings. " I was made to put you here."

"So...we're in my head?"

"No, not in your head, in my head." Wow, if he thought he could stop the panic attack then, he was sure it was completely flaring up now. If this was a dream, it wasn't. He was positive it was because this was a nightmare. If this was real, well, he could honestly and confidently say that he has experienced a panic attack in real life as well as this place, wherever it was.

Probably hell.

"Be honest with me." His breath was coming in short gasps. The pounding of his heart resounded loudly in his ears, arms and legs started to fidget ever so slightly. "Am I in hell because I O.D.'d* on drugs someone injected me while I passed out from hunger?"

It didn't make sense but nothing made sense here. So right now, this was probably making sense because things weren't right around here. His eyes were now frantically searching the room for anything that could seem to explain what was going on.


She tilted her head, long inky waves flowing with every move she made. Her pale arm reached out to his caramel one but he tried to pull away. He was afraid it would start another bout of sobbing. She caught it easily, even as he struggled against her. Her hands looked so thin wrapped around his already skinny arm. The grip was strong but it didn't seem like she would leave any bruises on him.

"I don't understand what you mean. I was told to do this to you."

"What do you mean this!? What is this!!?" His voice rose as he grew more frantic. Her touch was doing something to him. It was slightly abating his panic but as she spoke more it continued to amplify his panic. Her soothing touch was doing nothing but breakeven.

"You have to listen to my voice. Let your fear go. I'm in front of you. It can't get to you." Her words were like an absolute command. His nerves were settling but it was making him feel a little upset. Whatever she was doing was unnatural, it was like a drug that made your body do the opposite of how you felt. "I need your help...I need you to listen to me. I need you to know what happened."

Her hand tightened its grip on his forearm, the blood around it coming closer to the surface of the skin. Bruises were probably already forming under her grip. She stared deeply into his eyes.

"Will you listen to me?" He hesitated. She was a stranger, someone who probably kidnapped him. He didn't have the luxury of knowing what could happen if he didn't...nor did he know if anyone would even bother looking for him. Especially with how he left things off.


[*] O.D.'d - kind of a slang for overdosed

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