I wasn’t sure if this song was one I had sung before or a new one. I rarely listened to the words the nightmare master forcibly spewed from my mouth. Silence stretched as I was forced to scan the crowd. Seeing all the people I had lured with my voice. Though I tried not to commit their faces to my memory.
Even the briefest of glances haunts my memories. Because I knew that everyone in this audience would die by my hand. I think at one time I was more upset about that. But after all the years, I’m numb to it all. As my gaze travels over the audience, I couldn’t help but stop on one person in the very back.
At first, I thought it was the nightmare master that had made me look at him. Before I felt the slightest slip of his control over me. I have felt him give me back control before, but this was not that. It was as if something had loosened its hold on me. Could it have been the one I was looking at?
I studied him, looking him up and down as questions went through my mind. He was a towering figure. Standing easily above most, his sheer height makes him impossible to ignore. His presence alone carried an undeniable weight. Like a looming storm waiting to break.
His hair was a wild mane of deep red, streaked with darker shades. As if flames had licked through it and left embers smoldering in its strands. It fell in unruly waves. Some locks framed his sharp, angular face. While others hung loosely over his shoulders.
Giving him a slightly untamed, almost feral look. His eyes were a piercing crimson. Even when glazed over by my control. Burning like molten coal beneath a layer of shadow, intense and unreadable. They held something dangerous.
An edge that hinted at a barely restrained chaos. Dressed in a mix of black and red. His clothes were a perfect reflection of him. Bold, intimidating, and edged with menace. A high-collared, sleeveless black coat hung from his broad frame, the deep crimson lining flashing whenever he moved.
Beneath it, a fitted black shirt stretched over a frame that was built more for power than agility. Jagged crimson patterns ran down the sleeves. Resembling claw marks or veins of spreading corruption. His pants, dark as the abyss. They bore the same tattered red designs near the edges, as if dipped in blood and left to dry.
Heavy boots, laced with crimson threads, to match his clothes. Around his neck hung a single, worn necklace. A simple chain holding a small, battered nameplate with the word “Alex” etched into it. It stood out against his dark attire. The metal dulled with age.
It seemed as if he had clutched it too many times, wearing it down with time and memory. It was the only thing about him that seemed remotely personal. As I looked at the necklace, something flashed through my head.
“You got me a necklace with your name on it?” Asked an amused voice.
Before I could process what had just gone through my mind. I felt the Nightmare Master’s control snap back into place. A most almost painful feeling. He forced my body off the stage. Not caring that my audience filled up not even half of the seats.
I jumped off the stage, slicing a man clean in half from head to toe. Then the nightmare master used me for his massacre. He cut down everyone in the audience, one by one. Blood flew everywhere, coating the room and me. Not that it made much of a difference with all the blood that already coated the room from my other concerts.
I don’t think anyone has ever cleaned this room since my first ever concert. The crunch of dried blood, along with organs and other parts. Things I didn’t want to think about reached my ears. I cut everyone down until I reached him. My guitar was at his neck, ready to slice through.
However, once again, I felt the nightmare master’s control slipping, and I was able to hesitate. Not only that, but once again that familiar voice rang through my head.
“You know I love you, Alex.”
Tears sprang to my eyes at the feelings those words brought to me. I closed my eyes and waited for the nightmare master to regain control and force me to kill this man. Instead, I felt him give me complete control of myself.
“It seems I’m going to have to do another adjustment to your memory, but for now, enjoy the trial. Maybe you’ll actually make it out this time.” The nightmare master stated, his voice echoing all around me.
I instantly dropped the monstrous guitar in my hands and fell to my knees. Tears streamed down my face freely without worry that the nightmare master would stop them. For the first couple of trials. I just sat down in this room and sobbed. Letting the tears the nightmare master wouldn’t let me shed fall.
I had completely forgotten about the man in front of me until I felt something sharp touching the top of my head. I didn’t bother to raise my head as I said the next words.
“Please, I’m sick and tired of him forcing me to be Siren. Maybe if it’s someone trying to kill me instead of myself, he’ll actually let me die.”
I didn’t understand why I was like this. I was supposed to be completely numb to all this, but seeing this man brought out those hidden emotions out of me. Now here I was. On my hands and knees. Begging someone to kill me. I didn’t believe the Nightmare Master would let him kill me.
I had given up on dying long ago. At least I thought I had. So why was I begging this man to kill me? Why haven’t I gotten up from on my knees and started the trial?
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