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There Oliver stood once more.
The same spot as he did each night when he closed his eyes to sleep, surrounded by nothing more than the bleak darkness, the waves of the sea of the subconscious lapping around his knees with the fog clinging to the head of the water. This time… He was further from the shore than he had ever been before. Looking up toward the sky above him, the clouds glowed with a deep purple hue. The color of the dreams that were released that day to the awaiting hands of the Ether.
Something however, struck the Dealer of Dreams as… Odd.
The skies weren’t as clear as they usually were.
Normally, he could at the very least see the greenish pricks of the stars. The silhouette of the gilded moon. Each usually gave him some semblance of light to be able to see, to guide him to his next destination to take care of his next task.
Tonight however… There was no comforting light.
Only nothingness.
Maybe all this is what this dream was to be, or it was someone testing Oliver’s resolve.
To see just how far he would be willing to go if he had no nightmare of another awaiting him.
If that’s what this truly was, then fine.
“Maybe… It is high time I truly see what’s here.” Saying this despite there was no one else to hear him, Oliver took in a deep breath and took the next few slow steps further into the Sea of the Nether. The waves splashed around his legs all the while going further within, the water steadily rising in height as it engulfed more of his body.
It was as though he were in a trance, deep blue eyes fixated ahead across the seemingly never-ending sea. Soon enough, the brine touched his waist. Yet, he continued on. Ceaseless.
Something was calling him.
Calm and beautiful was the melody rushing through his head, yet full of mourning and regret.
He found himself quietly humming the haunting tune to himself while he pressed on, the waves brushing against his chest.
No.
This was wrong.
He was terrified of the water and the ocean.
He couldn’t swim.
He would drown if he continued on.
…
Yet, he persisted.
The tune echoed louder through his thoughts, surrounding the entirety of his being. Pulling him forward, pressing him on.
The waters reached his shoulders.
“ Stop …” Attempting to speak only proved to be futile, the continuous hums of the tune continuing steadfast.
Stop… Please…
What do you want?
His own pleas in his head sounded so quiet and feeble, he didn’t want this.
Why couldn’t he stop?
Sharp trembles shot up through his body, feeling the color draining from his face. No matter what Oliver did, his body pressed on on its own accord.
Soon, it was to his neck.
He didn’t even realize he was crying until he felt the burning sting of hot tears that were now rolling down his cheeks.
This was it… Wasn’t it?
This was where he was going to die.
Alone… In the world of the subconscious.
The bitter irony wasn’t lost on him, yet his body allowed him no control to attempt to self-soothe.
This was his punishment.
He deserved it.
However, there at the end of the Sea was a smoky shadow billowing in the non-existent wind. The last thing Oliver saw before he was pulled under into the open arms of the awaiting depths were those emerald eyes that he had fallen in love with.
~*~
“ LET ME GO!!!!”
Oliver didn’t hear himself screaming those words, sitting in his bed drenched from head to toe in sweat. His night clothes clung to his shivering frame, panting heavily as his head darted around the room for any semblance of his surroundings.
He was… In his bedroom.
He was… Okay.
He was… Alive.
"C'mon, baby, c'mon, darling
Let me steal this moment from you now
C'mon, angel, c'mon, c'mon, darling
Let's exchange the experience, oh..."
And if I only could
I'd make a deal with God
And I'd get him to swap our places
I'd be running up that road
Be running up that hill
With no problems…
Music…
Glancing toward the phone on the nightstand next to his bed, it was his alarm. That’s right… He had gotten help setting one of his favorite songs to be…
Drawing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his shaky arms around his shins, Oliver buried his face into his arms before he allowed himself to break down into a fit of sobs.
He was sure that he was…
When a Reaper dies in the Subconscious…
But…
He was spared…
But… Why?
He… Wanted to…
No… He didn’t want to die…
Not anymore.
He wanted to live.
Maybe… That was why.
He… Had something to live for.
“Aha… You didn’t get me this time, Old Man… You will not have to sing a requiem for me yet.” Oliver’s voice was quiet, meek against his own skin.
He needed a shower, change the sheets, and get to work… But… Not yet.
Shivering as he untangled himself from his own body and wiping his bloodshot eyes from the residue of tears, reaching forward to take hold of his phone and typing out a quick message before he allowed himself to go get himself cleaned up.
[SMS]:
Francis. We need to talk.