A white light blinded me when I opened my eyes. I stood in the middle of the room. Children's playful giggles echoed around me, but only one child was here. His dark red hair illuminated in the sunlight leaking from the windows, and his sapphire eyes were focused on the ground. Crayons were scattered around the floor as he drew on a discolored piece of paper.

I sauntered towards him, passing by the small tidy white beds on each side of the wall. My breath shook slightly as I recognized the boy. 

His name was Adam Elkhart, but why was I here? I should be him, but I wasn’t. I was in my body with my own thoughts. Why was this different yet familiar at the same time?

My heart was pounding out of my chest as I got near. Adam didn’t look up at me. He was fixated on his drawing or that I was a ghost. Laughing at the idea of being invisible, I glanced and gasped at my translucent hands. Wait, no, my whole body was see-through. I screamed as I patted myself down. I felt solid, so I wasn’t dead, right? There was no way I died in my sleep. I rubbed my hand on the back of my head. That landing shouldn’t be enough to kill me. If it did, it was a dumb way to die.

My hand moved to my face, pinching my cheeks tightly. My body wasn’t cold nor in pain, but would I have felt anything in a dream or afterlife? It doesn’t matter. I knew the drill. I won’t be able to wake up from this until it shows me what it wants. 

Adam stopped drawing and dropped the red crayon. The crayon rolled past my feet as I stared down at the art. Dread slithered up my spine as soon as I saw those familiar eyes, and with a gulp, I took a step back. Those eyes had claimed his soul, just like they would with mine. 

He didn’t have the same fearful look as me. Adam was calm and determined; It was as if those fiery eyes relaxed him. For a boy who was twelve years old, he could pass as an adult with that fearsome glare. 

Adam grabbed the crayons. His fingers phased through my feet to catch the red worn-down crayon, and I froze when he stared at me with his dark blue eyes. Wait, can he see me? I waved my hands in front of me, but he continued staring at me, or was it through me?

The laughing had ceased with the sounds of heavy stomping replacing it. I turned around and saw tall wooden doors that covered half of the wall. The feeling of dread grew as we stared at it. The noise was deafening as it drew near. Mixed feelings of sadness and fear rose inside me. My eyes widen like a deer in headlights waiting to be roadkill. I knew what would happen and was powerless to stop it.

As I looked back at the boy, two men barged inside the spacious cage, watching in horror as they grabbed Ada and dragged him out of the room. Adam didn’t fight back. His face was dull, as if this had happened many times before. The doors slammed shut, leaving me in perpetual silence.

This was bad.

Memories flooded my brain with people in white lab coats, children crying and begging for their parents, and needles with unknown fluids. Oh God, those needles pressed my (Adam’s) skin. The pain rushed inside my (Adam’s) body as we screamed. These memories weren’t mine, but I remember them vividly as if they were.

When my nerves had subsided, I dashed down the hallway, passing a menacing clown portrait with a sardonic smile. Its bloodshot eyes followed me as I frantically tried to keep up. That horrendous clown was not making this situation comforting. It was a false sense of warmth to hide the atrocities of this place. A place meant to heal children was nothing more than an experimental playground for sadistic adults. I (Adam) wanted nothing more than to burn this place to the ground.

Adam and the two men entered the room at the far end of the hall. The door clicked as they locked it behind them, filling me with hopelessness and anger as I slammed my fist on the metal frame. I screamed into the void, knowing that nobody would hear me. Adam would not die, at least not here; however, the pain would be unbearable. Death would be the mercy he’d craved. I knew I (Adam) wanted to die when I was dreaming about him and this place a few months back when I was still in Tennessee.

Tears escaped my eyes as I dropped to my knees. This was a nightmare I always had time and time again, yet I had never felt so powerless. I wasn’t in Adam’s body. I could have done something, but here I was, crying on the floor like a defenseless baby.

Weak.

“Pathetic.”

That voice sounded familiar. I wiped the tears out of my eyes and whipped my head around to see a figure draped in shadow staring at me. Its orange eyes glowed behind the darkness. The same eyes that kept showing up had finally revealed themselves. I should have been frightened, but I wasn’t. A surreal calmest washed over me as if I had encountered an old friend. However, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this thing wasn’t friendly.

“How pathetic are you that you would result in crying, Ellis?”

“Ho-how did you know my name?” I asked, surprised to hear my voice coming out of that thing.

“Was Adam that easy for you to sacrifice?”

“Adam doesn’t die!”

“So? It already speaks about what you will do in the future,” its eyes flared with merriment, “There’s a reason why it’s always your fault, coward.”

“Y-you didn’t answer my question!” I clenched my teeth as I stared down at this thing. Who the Hell are they questioning my actions? It wasn’t my fault! What can I even do if I’m a ‘ghost’?

“The same way you know Adam,” It said, its eyes dimming from the name Adam.

“I don’t know Adam.”

It was true. I don’t know Adam personally, but I have his memories. Dreams make people believe in the weirdest thing. It would make them think that what they experienced was genuine.

“You sure?” the shadows danced around it, imitating Hell’s flames. Only the eyes remained motionless.

“What the Hell are you?” I whispered, more to myself than to it. My voice was shaky and high-pitched, like a scared child. I feared the answer, and the shadow’s chuckle didn’t soothe me. Its laughter surrounded me as if vultures were circling above me. I blocked my ears to block the insufferable noise, but it didn’t work. My head felt like it was about to bust open.

It walked closer to me, boots clicking on the floor as the shadows rippled like water, wrapping themselves into a shape of a small human. As it modeled its form, I stared dumbly at the black ribbons twist and turned like snakes on vines. When the ribbons disappeared, my eyes widened as I looked at myself. It was like looking at a mirror, except their eyes reminded the same. 

He bowed to me with a playful smirk and said, “I go by many names, but you can call me Desio.”

Desio? 

Why does that name sound familiar? I continued to stare at him with a weird sense of pride.

“Why do you choose to look like me?”

Desio shrugged, “ what’s more comfortable than yourself?”

I opened my mouth but quickly closed it and shook my head. No, I don’t want to know what he truly looks like. It could be horrifying. 

Desio’s eyes glimmered as he waited for me to speak. I coughed to clear my throat and got up, patting the nonexistent dirt off my pajamas. My teeth chattered as I pondered on what I should say. I don’t want to talk about his eyes, but it was the only one on my mind, and it seemed like he wanted to ask about it too.

“Why are you here?” I asked, finally freeing myself from his hypnotic gaze.

“You’re the one who called me. I should be asking you that.”

“I don’t remember calling you.”

“You don’t?” He exclaimed, appalled by my lack of memory, “Do you remember the building that those agents took you to?”

“You mean the hospital?”

Desio chuckled, grinning playfully at my realization that he was the voice urging me to go inside that rickety, possibly haunted, hospital. I grimaced at his smile, especially since he looked like me. 

I hate that smile.

“Can you stop!” I demand.

He stopped and waved his hand dismissively,” As you command.”

“What exactly do you want from me?”

“It’s not what I want. It’s what I can provide for you,” Desio said, “You saw my services earlier.”

Earlier? I recall the day starting with the hospital and ending with my practice fight with Ms. Meyer.

“You mean, you’re the one who helped me fight Ms. Meyer?”

He nodded, “I can do more than that if you let me,” He extended his hand. Red and yellow spark formed around it, creating a beautiful dark flame, “Shake my hand. And I can show you what I’m really capable of.”

I stared at it, mesmerized by the glow of the blaze as it danced around his fingertips. I won’t lie. The feeling of the blade filled me with joy. That emotion was mine. It might be the only thing that was mine during that moment. The fact that he moved me around like a puppet made me reconsider the offer. No matter how good it felt, dealing with the devil would be a horrible idea.

“What's the catch?” 

There was always a catch to everything. I wasn’t an idiot. I have some decent smarts to understand that nothing good was free.

Desio stopped smiling, “You don’t have to die.”

He waved his hand, and that gorgeous flame burned out. The smoke lingered in the air with the scent of honey, and then he snapped his fingers. The smoke of the dead fire slithered around us, drenching the world in darkness. The door behind me disappeared, replaced with black walls. Everything was gone except for Desio and me.

Oh God! He was going to kill me, yet I couldn’t detect bloodlust.

He had a smug look on his face, my face. I curled my hands into a fist, waiting to strike. I would defend myself if I had to, even punch a creature with my face. It was not mine, so I shouldn’t care. I stared at my fist, surprised by my lack of hesitation.

Was my face that punchable?

Desio pointed behind me where the door was, where Adam was. Did he offer the same deal to Adam? I glared at him, trying to avoid his eyes. Half of me wanted to take the pact; however, those eyes gave me many mixed feelings: anger, joy, and fear, fear of losing myself if I kept looking at them. My knuckles relaxed as I rubbed my neck, feeling the pressure on them like someone was choking me. 

“I-I think about it, yeah,” I said, not doing a great job hiding my fear. 

“Alright, later,” Desio proclaimed with a shrug, “we have plenty of time.”

Huh?

“Just remember one thing, Ellis. If you need me, all you need to do is call.”

And with a snap, I woke up in a cold sweat on my bed. I thought I was still dreaming because I saw nothing but darkness, but I turned and looked at my clock on the nightstand flashing 3:00 am. 

What a cliche.

I rubbed my tired eyes before turning on the lights and took out my sketch pad. There was only one thing I wanted to draw. 

I received a few fanart as a birthday gift from a few friends. If you are wondering by the name Nifiery, that's my discord name.

This is the fanart of Ross by Izzy Bloom91, the creator of InfiniteStrike. Churro is chilling on his shoulder.

Here are two fanarts of Mariel is by Emalie, the creator of Idyll in its Decline.

And Paradox, the creator of Absolve the Sun.