*Mild warning: although not explicit, there is some blood imagery below.

...

"It's this dream...I’m having this dream AGAIN."

Deltra quickly stands and looks around the abyss. Everything's dark, but strange enough he can still see the gray ground below him and far in the distance he can also hear sobbing.

He slowly walks to the direction of the crying, gently taking every step and re-routing himself every time he feels he is off-track. The dream would repeat from time to time and it would come at random. He had to be careful not to change the pace this time. Even if it felt the floor stood still when he walked, he knew he was getting closer to where the crying came from as he took every step cautiously.

It felt like 10 minutes when he finally stopped.

In front of him faced a table and a boy sitting on a chair sobbing. There was some light source illuminating above the boy. He was all white: his clothes, skin, and hair with only faint blue veins visibly trailing on the surface of his arms. The boy had his arms down at the sides of the chair seat, his shoulders slumped down, head down and his short wavy hair covering his face. It looked as if he was in an interrogation room and Deltra could only stare thinking of the right words to use to not break cadence. He always woke at this part of the scene never acquiring who this boy was and why he always saw him.

“Hey…”

The boy ignored him and continued sobbing, his body still slumped down.

"Hey, can you hear me?

The boy’s sobbing grew louder and Deltra felt annoyed. He can be calm during confrontations, especially involving children, but there was an impending feeling in the atmosphere, and he felt his interaction was getting timed. He needed to be quick about getting a response. Any minute and he would wake out of his trance. He knew the boy could at least hear him because his wails got louder in response, as if he was trying to cry over Deltra. Deltra finally decided to raise his voice but kept his composure.

"Listen, I need to know where you're at. I don't know who you are, but I can help. There's a reason why I can see and talk to you, but you can't keep ignoring me. I can get you out of where you're being held at, this is probably the only chance I’ll ever see you.”

Deltra's frustration was slowly rising but was quickly replaced with desperation. He tried to get nearer but was suddenly stopped by an invisible wall, keeping a 3-foot distance between him and the child. He placed his right hand in front of him to see if there was any form of entrance.

Deltra continued to talk, a mix of uneasiness and anger being heard in his voice. These feelings felt alien to him, unusual for his behavior. His features now showing irritation and glaring at the child. He needed answers quick.

"I think I know what you're being used for, why you're being held. Do you know what has been happening? I need to get you out from where you are or else the number of Trickers are going to continue to rise. Do you realize how many of them had to be put down? How many of them...were your own age?

Deltra talked as if the boy knew what was happening, like they had a conversation before. Somehow, he felt he knew. Trickers are born out of chromatoons, an eldritch specie that appear humanoid and have been living among humans for a while. Many of them were transitioning into monstrous entities. Their bodies would morph into something uncanny, eldritch in nature and inconceivable, and depending on what type of chromatoon they were it mirrored their former selves. Their change always started at the fingertips, growing an extra digit to complete a five-index hand and sometimes causing sores and blisters. A sleek, sickly black color would then take over and hide the once healthy tones of the chromatoon's skin. The black bruises would stretch out like spider veins, slowly eating away the color and like a lightswitch the chromatoon could quickly change in appearance. Nobody knew when a chromatoon would fully become a Tricker, it can be slow or sudden. If it was bad enough, they never returned to their former identities after their psyche completely changed. The few lucky only had an arm or a leg affected and from there it never spread. Many gained an ability to transform back and forth in between their eldritch and chromatoon self.

At first it may have been a virus, but it was debunked when victims harmed or scarred by Trickers never went ill and transform. Now it’s assumed it is something genetic encoded into the wellbeing of a chromatoon and something triggered it. As of now only a blockage is getting tested.

Deltra finally slammed his fists on the wall between them when he got no response.

"Listen, you need to trust me! I know you’re scared, and you have information I can use to help you. You have something I need. You want all of your pain to stop, don't you? you want to get out of your hell hole! so why won't you say some...something.” Deltra’s words trailed off when he realized the tone of his voice and became bothered by it. In his waking state he couldn't bear the idea of screaming at a child, let alone be aggressive. He stood still expecting to wake up any moment but instead he got the response he wanted.

The boy slowly raised his head, tears visibly leaving a glistening wash under his tired eyes. the red puffiness contrasted with his white skin. He didn't look human and instead looked more chromatoon. He almost looked porcelain. The most notable trait were his unnaturally blue eyes and for a minute he just stared at Deltra hauntingly, his eyes mirroring a lifeless entity. Without breaking his stare, the boy slowly rose his arms and Deltra was taken back by what he saw. The boy’s forearms and hands were bathed in red fluid, the crimson color glistened as he slowly lifted his arms, small droplets falling off like thick mucus.

“...Blood?

He then began writing something out on the white table using both hands, gingerly trailing down thick lines to form words and leaving small trails of thick liquid after every pause and movement. Deltra looked below at the table waiting patiently for the words to form with a feeling of nausea forming in his stomach. He realized the boy was writing from Deltra’s view, so the words were readable to him.

…

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐀𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐫?

…

Deltra felt panic rise inside him. He didn’t know why but he started feeling nervous.

“Who..who’s Arthur?

The boy finally spoke, his voice breathy, looking up at Deltra with a feral look in his sickeningly blue eyes.

“You want answers? Go find him.”

Deltra felt out of breath, his chest tightened as he felt his body falling back and his vision going dark.

...

...

...

𝐆𝐀𝐒𝐏!

Deltra quickly lifted himself off the bed choking and coughing viciously. He was in cold sweats, shivering from the sudden cold humid air around him and tears stung his eyes. His right fist started pounding at his bare chest trying to make his lungs work and catch his breath. He breathed in heavily when he finally felt air enter his lungs and fell back against the headboard. He was in his bedroom with the gray sheets covering only his legs now. His eyes were still closed, and he paused for a minute trying to process what he just dreamt.

Who in the hell is Arthur?