Mylo opened his eyes, or at least he thought he did. There was no discernible difference between what he saw with his eyes closed and his eyes open. Just like in the tunnel, there was total pitch blackness. It was also silent. He was devoid of all of his senses, only able to hear his own heartbeat. He frantically opened and closed his eyes, trying to escape the apparent nightmare. 

“It's just a bad dream,” he muttered to himself, not believing a word he told himself. 

Deep in the pitch black was the hazy glow of two slanted red eyes. They got brighter and brighter, which meant they were getting closer and closer. 

Mylo wanted to flee, but he couldn’t move; he was just floating aimlessly in the abyss. With no other option, he found his eyes locked again with the red-violet eyes, becoming larger and more vibrant by the second. He couldn't look away. He continued to try to calm himself, trying to push back his fear. He hoped maybe that would make it go away. It didn’t appear to be the case though, as the eyes in front of him continued to near.

No distractions, he heard as a whisper. 

Mylo shuddered, and his skin itched hearing the ghostly whisper. His heartbeat again started to slow. 

You will understand me, it whispered. 

Mylo had enough mobility to nod his head, doing whatever he could to affirm the creature. 

Satisfied, it whispered, you will wait. 

With that, just as it had entered, it disappeared. The red-violet eyes faded into nothing. Mylo was again floating alone. He took a long, drawn exhale, now realizing he had been holding it the whole time.

Suddenly, he felt a pressure wrap around his bottom half. It was cold, and a numbness ran up his spine. His muscles were squeezed as his body started to move through the abyss. He couldn’t describe the situation any better than someone being inside him, moving his muscles for him. It twisted him and pushed him through the void. There was nothing he could do, still incapable of moving himself. He didn’t know where it was bringing him; as far as he could tell, there was nothing it could bring him to. 

He then felt the same kind of pressure in his left arm, as it felt like it was being pulled upward. His palm was met with a round object. He couldn’t make out what though, because while the feeling was faintly familiar, it was shrouded in an alienness. It was cold, metallic, but also tingly and sharp. 

His arm then relaxed, and it fell back to his side. The squeeze of muscles in his hips and legs resumed. Moving forward, it almost felt like he was walking. Then, shortly later, they stopped. He could only have moved a few meters. 

He thought maybe he could hear something. It was a soft echoey breathing. He felt his arm move again, and in his palm felt a hot, fleshy texture. It wasn’t everlasting though, as something pulsed through his veins. It was almost painful. The warmth turned to a deep cold, and he heard the echoey breathing suddenly shift tone. 

“Mylo?” the voice asked. 

It only took Mylo a few moments to recognize his little brother's voice, even through the distorted filter of the void. 

“Fenn?!’ Mylo asked, panicking.

"Mylo, what’s going on?” Fenn asked. 

“I don’t know,” Mylo responded, unable to see his brother.

“Mylo?” Fenn asked again. 

Fenn couldn’t hear him. Whatever Mylo was saying wasn’t reaching him.

“Fenn!” Mylo screamed, hoping his voice would get out to him. 

Then there was nothing, not even the sound of his brother’s breathing. The pulsating sensation in his arm stopped, and a shallow echo vibrated in his ear.

Again, it said. 

The darkness around Mylo ceased to exist, and Mylo couldn’t regain control of his body before his face smacked against a cold stone surface.

Mylo groaned in agony, trying to push himself up, but his body was too weak. His heart was beating so slowly, and he didn’t know how long it would be till the pace returned to normal, if it ever would. 

Mylo tried to roll himself onto his back, and with the effort of his shaky right arm, he was able to heave himself over. His vision blurred for a moment, and he had to take a deep breath. His body was screaming at him to stop doing anything, the pain was sharp with each movement. As he regained vision, he was able to make out the ceiling patterns of his living room. His pupils shifted over to the couch beside him, where he should’ve been able to see his brother’s thick, dark hair. 

“Fenn?” Mylo was able to whimper. 

There was no response. 

“Come on,” Mylo muttered to himself, trying to rock his body awake. 

“Fenn?” he asked again a little louder. 

Still, there was nothing. 

Mylo’s panic took over his heart, and his blood began to flow. He pushed himself to a sitting position, still struggling. It confirmed what he suspected—the couch was empty, his brother was gone. 

Mylo grabbed onto the edge of the couch and heaved himself up. His legs wobbled as he tried to stand. He looked towards Fenn’s bedroom door. It was open. Mylo braced himself and pushed himself off the couch towards the adjacent wall. He stumbled but managed to smack against it without falling to the ground. 

“Fenn,” he muttered again. 

Still, there was no response. 

He crawled against the wall to peek into Fenn’s bedroom. The sheets were uncovered, showing an empty mattress. Through all the clutter on Fenn’s floor, Mylo wasn’t able to make out any sign of his brother.

"Fenn, please,” he started to plead. “Everything is ok now, I promise.”

At this point he wasn’t expecting a response; his gut was already telling him that something had happened to him. His nightmare wasn’t a nightmare; it was the reason the creature let him live. It was the caveat in his survival, and soon he would have to come to terms with the fact that his brother was gone.