2023-05-28 03:36:34The following evening, after a party at Magnus' house, there were no guards available to watch over Morpheus. Alex volunteered to keep an eye on the captive deity. He ascended the stairs with determination and entered the room where Morpheus was imprisoned.
In the darkened chamber, Morpheus sat within the sphere, his head lifted. As Alex approached the door, he called out, breaking the silence. "Hello," he greeted, stepping closer to Morpheus. "It's Alex, the son of Magnus," he introduced himself, hoping to establish a connection with the enigmatic figure before him.
Uncertain of Morpheus' ability to communicate or comprehend, Alex expressed his concerns. "You see, I don't know if you can speak or understand me, but I just wanted to ask: Are you alright in there?"
As Alex anxiously awaited a response, Morpheus, driven by a mix of annoyance and anger, turned his head towards him.
Alex paused, contemplating the situation before speaking to Morpheus. "No, of course, you are not," he acknowledged, recognizing the distress Morpheus must be feeling.
With a sincere tone, he apologized on behalf of his father, Magnus, and sought to provide insight into his father's motivations. "My father is not a bad man," Alex explained, "He simply wants his son back from the dead. Or, at the very least, he hopes you could grant him something, or even just have a conversation with him."
Alex continued, his voice filled with earnestness. "I assure you, if you can do any of the things my father asked of you, he would release you without hesitation." He hoped that conveying his father's intentions would foster understanding and empathy between Morpheus and Magnus.
Morpheus stared at Alex, his gaze unwavering, but he remained silent. Sensing the weight of his remorse, Alex spoke softly, his voice filled with genuine remorse. "I would let you out, if I could," he admitted, his words tinged with regret and helplessness.
An echo reverberated from behind, and Alex's heart sank as he recognized the voice. "You would, would you?" Magnus' voice cut through the air, filled with suspicion and anger. Fear gripped Alex, and he slowly turned his back to face his father, dreading what would come next.
Magnus, consumed by his frustrations and desperation, seized Alex by the arm and forcefully dragged him out of the room. With a forceful push, Alex tumbled to the floor, trembling with fear.
Magnus loomed over him, his walking stick pointed accusingly. "What were you doing down there, huh?" Magnus demanded, his voice sharp and filled with indignation.
Trembling, Alex stammered his response, desperately trying to appease his father. "Nothing, father," he managed to utter, his voice quivering with fear.
In that moment, he realized the precariousness of his situation, caught between his loyalty to his father and his sympathy for Morpheus.
"You were plotting his escape, weren't you?" Magnus accused, his voice laced with anger and suspicion. "Conspiring against me?"
Alex's heart raced as he desperately tried to assure his father of his innocence. "No, father, I would never do such a thing," he pleaded, his voice filled with sincerity. "I swear, Morphe didn't even say anything. I was only trying to understand him."
Magnus sternly warned his son, his voice filled with urgency. "If Morpheus were to escape, he would slaughter us all. We must not underestimate his power." As he scolded Alex, a tapping sound drew their attention to the window.
Magnus glanced in its direction to see the Raven and his frustration erupted. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath, feeling the weight of the situation intensify.
"Maggy, what's happening? What's wrong?" a lady hurriedly approached the room, concern etched on her face. Magnus retrieved his gun and replied with frustration, "It's Jessamy. I've been trying to shoot this wretched bird for ten years now." He aimed the gun at the raven perched nearby, but it swiftly flew away, evading his grasp.
Magnus then turned to his son, handing him the gun, a test of loyalty in his eyes. "Shoot the fucking bird," he commanded, his brow furrowed with expectation, before abruptly leaving the room.
Alex ventured outside, determined to find the elusive bird. Unbeknownst to him, the raven observed his every move, waiting for the right moment.
As Alex continued his search, the raven swiftly flew back into the house, guided by an unseen force, its destination clear: Morpheus.
Within the confines of the sphere, Morpheus felt the presence of the raven, and a smile spread across his face.
The raven cautiously peered through the hallway, ensuring no one was in sight. Seizing the opportunity, it gracefully glided through the corridor, its sharp eyes catching sight of Magnus engrossed in one of his reading sessions—the very room the raven had intended to reach. With a subtle movement, the raven concealed itself, biding its time.
As soon as Magnus exited the room, the cunning raven seized the opportunity. It swiftly fluttered over to a nearby table where a box of matches lay.
Skillfully grasping a matchstick in its beak, the raven ignited it against the rough surface of the wall, creating a tiny flame.
With precision, it dropped the lit match onto a nearby curtain, igniting a small fire that rapidly began to spread.
The room soon filled with smoke, catching the attention of two male guards who rushed in to assess the situation. Witnessing the growing flames, one guard exclaimed, "Should we call the fire brigade?" The other guard, filled with a mix of disbelief and determination, responded, "We are the fire brigade!"
As the guards battled the spreading flames, their attention consumed by the task at hand, the raven seized the moment.
Swiftly and silently, it flew beneath the room where Morpheus was imprisoned, sensing his presence within.
Morpheus, with his head raised, caught sight of the raven, and a faint smile graced his lips, recognizing the bird's persistent efforts to aid him.
The raven, determined to free its master, attempted to use its beak to break the unyielding glass of the sphere, but its attempts proved futile.
In the midst of this struggle, a gunshot rang out in the room, shattering the tense atmosphere.
Startled, the raven scattered in a flurry of feathers, leaving behind traces of blood on the surface of the sphere's glass.
Morpheus, filled with a mixture of despair and anger, gazed upward and saw that it was Alex who had fired the shot.
A wave of conflicting emotions washed over Morpheus. His gratitude for the raven's valiant efforts mingled with his sorrow for its sacrifice, now marked by its blood on the glass.
Turning his attention to Alex, he regarded him with a mix of curiosity and cautious hope. The situation had taken an unexpected turn, and Morpheus pondered what this could mean for his own fate and the fate of those involved in his captivity.
Entering the room, Magnus took in the scene with a mix of frustration and disappointment. His eyes fell upon Alex, and he wasted no time in berating him, "You idiot! You could have shattered the glass!" Magnus snatched the gun from his son's hand, clearly displeased with his actions, and ordered him to clean up the aftermath of the chaotic events.
As Alex's gaze shifted towards Morpheus, he couldn't help but notice the fury burning within the Dream Lord's eyes. It was a gaze that held the promise of swift and merciless retribution, ready to exact its toll on Alex's very existence.
Morpheus was seething with anger, his emotions swirling within him, and while he yearned to unleash his wrath upon the one who had caused him further suffering, he found himself bound by the constraints of his captivity.
The room was filled with a tense atmosphere, the air heavy with unresolved tensions and unspoken consequences. Morpheus, unable to act upon his anger, could only delve deeper into the depths of his own seething emotions.
Alex gingerly picked up the lifeless body of the raven, its feathers stained with blood, and silently exited the room.
The savagery of Morpheus' captor bespoke a world whose dreams, in his absence, turned darker still.
A world that would soon be at war again.
A world still ravaged by the disease that doctors named encephalitis lethargica.
Some begged for sleep that would not come, others lived as perpetual sleepwalkers. Most slept without waking.
On a bright afternoon, Alex lounged in the garden, basking in the warm embrace of sunlight. He had a somber expression on his face, lost in his thoughts. As he tried to soak in the rays, the tranquility was interrupted by the approach of Paul, the maid.
"Sorry, sir," Paul apologized, aware of disturbing Alex's moment of solitude. Alex slowly opened his eyes and acknowledged Paul's presence. "What's that you are reading?" Paul inquired, curious about the book that had captured Alex's attention.
Struggling to sit up, Alex let out a grunt and replied, "I'm afraid I'm doing more sleeping than reading at the moment." He felt the weight of weariness and exhaustion pressing upon him, the toll of recent events taking its toll.
With a gentle smile, Paul offered a helping hand to support Alex in standing up. "Have you read 'Vile Bodies'?" Paul asked, his voice filled with enthusiasm. "Now that'll keep you awake," he playfully suggested, hoping to ignite a spark of interest in Alex's weary eyes.
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Alex heard the sound of glass breaking from a distance and hurried inside at the sound. When he heard a woman sobbing and saw Magnus storming out of a room, he quickly hid.Concerned, Alex entered the room and inquired about the cause of distress. Through tears, the woman replied, "I'm going to have a baby." Alex's face lit up with joy, and he exclaimed, "Ethel, that's wonderful news!" He smiled warmly and offered his heartfelt congratulations.Sniffling, Ethel shared, "He wants me to get rid of it. In fact, he's calling the doctor right now." Her words were filled with sadness.Alex offered a gentle presence, comforting Ethel in her distress. She glanced at him, her expression softening. "I will be fine," she said, managing a smile amidst her tears.Late at night, Ethel swiftly packed her belongings and stepped into the waiting car, driving away from the scene.Upon entering his room, Magnus immediately noticed the absence of Morpheus' vestments. It dawned on him that Ethel had taken
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With a hint of regret in their voice, Alex's elder self said to Morpheus, "I could have sought after wealth or power, just like my father did." Alex said, "But all I ever wanted was to be free from your grip," with a broken heart."Alex, my dear," Paul cried as Alex sat down in a wheelchair, his hands firmly holding the device. Alex asked Paul to "please take me upstairs."As the wheelchair glided steadily across the circle, it left a visible line, shattering the once unbroken formation. Paul halted momentarily, casting a backward glance at the disrupted circle, realizing its demise. Then, his gaze shifted upward to meet Morpheus', acknowledging him with a nod and a smile, before departing from the room.Morpheus observed the broken circle, a sense of relief washing over him. Leaning forward, he directed his attention towards the guards stationed nearby. "Our Dracula still remains tight-lipped," remarked the female guard, engrossed in her novel. Curiosity piqued, the male guard inquir
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The night was heavy with an eerie silence, but Constantine's sleep was anything but peaceful. Shadows curled along the edges of her room, whispering like ghosts against the walls. The Rune on her skin pulsed, a soft glow bleeding through the darkness, tying her to the prison she now kept sealed within her.Her dreams—or rather, her nightmares—began the same way each time. She stood in a void, the same void where she had faced the Emptiness. But here, it was different. The Rune no longer burned with power; it trembled like a dying ember. The prison wavered, its walls barely holding together, and beyond them, the formless mass of the Emptiness lurked, pressing against its boundaries with unseen force."You cannot hold me forever," a voice rasped, hollow and endless, echoing in the chasm of her mind. It was not a singular voice but many, an amalgamation of fears, regrets, and lost souls.Constantine clenched her fists, her breath sharp and ragged. "Yeah? Well, watch me."The Rune seared
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Morpheus stepped through the grand entrance of his throne room, his cloak billowing behind him like a shadow refusing to be left behind. Lucien stood waiting at the base of the dais, ever dutiful, with Matthew perched on her shoulder, his feathers ruffling slightly in anticipation.Lucien adjusted her glasses and gave a respectful nod. "You're back sooner than expected, my lord. I assume the return of Lyta, Daniel, Rose, and Jed went as planned?"Morpheus inclined his head. "Yes. They have returned to the waking world safely. The chapter of their time in the Dreaming is now closed—for now. But there are still matters that demand our attention."Lucien, ever perceptive, stepped forward. "What would you have me do?"Morpheus's expression was unreadable, his gaze drifting momentarily to the swirling mists beyond the throne room’s high windows. Then, he turned back to Lucien, his voice measured and commanding. "Gather the nightmares and the fairy tale creatures. I would address them."Mat
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Morpheus stood in the dim glow of Cain and Abel’s home, his dark presence casting long shadows across the uneven ground. The two brothers, as different as night and day, watched him expectantly. Abel fidgeted, rubbing his hands together nervously, while Cain crossed his arms, his ever-present scowl deepening."Cain. Abel," Morpheus began, his voice as steady and measured as ever. "You have long been the keepers of this land. Tell me, what would you wish for your home? I will grant you this, as a token of gratitude."Abel blinked, looking at his brother for guidance, but Cain simply scoffed. "Gratitude? That’s a rare gift coming from you, Dream Lord. But if you are offering, I won’t refuse."Abel cleared his throat, stepping forward cautiously. "I… I would love a garden. A real one. With flowers and maybe a pond," he said hesitantly, wringing his fingers. "Something peaceful. And—and a place for Goldie to play!" His face brightened as he mentioned his beloved gargoyle, who lay curled u
Chapter 102
As Morpheus stepped back into the Dreaming, the air shimmered around him, adjusting to his presence like a living thing recognizing its master. His long coat flowed behind him as he moved through the grand halls of his palace, the echoes of dreams whispering in the walls. Lucien stood near the great oak table, surrounded by books, scrolls, and floating symbols of pure knowledge. She had been waiting, as she always did, diligent and prepared. Nearby, perched on the back of a high-backed chair, Matthew the raven ruffled his feathers, his sharp black eyes tracking Morpheus’s movements. Lucien acknowledged his arrival with a nod. “You’ve returned.” Her voice was calm, but there was a subtle curiosity in her tone. “And Constantine?” Morpheus took a few steps toward the table, his expression unreadable. “She is where she must be. The Rune is a part of her now.” Matthew let out a low whistle. “Man, that’s rough. She didn’t ask for any of this.” “No,” Morpheus agreed, his gaze dista
