A familiar darkness walked me down a glass-folded staircase,

  Each step glowed with a tinted hue,

  Leaving behind traces of memories for someone to find.

  Cause in this dream, I was wide awake,

  Descending toward the call of a bleak horizon,

  Where your knife cut deep into the artery of the ever swelling sky.

  Zun found herself lying flat on a rough straw mattress so short it cut above her ankles and exposed her feet to the chilling air.

  Her eyes were fixed on the ceiling above, unable to defy the focus of concentration until a drop of rainwater hit the centre of her forehead and sent a ripple of impulses down her limbs.

  She jolted up immediately. Where am I?

  Sweat trickled down her temple with a slow deliberate tenderness, like someone was tracing their finger down her skull underneath the stretched skin.

  “Wait, this…” She looked across the room as the realisation slowly dawned on her. “This is my room…”

  Something felt very different, but Zun couldn’t put words to that feeling. Her small attic room was suffocating today. The air hung low above her head, lingering with the presence of a lonely silhouette turning ghastly in search of someone to blame. Even the faint glow of dawn creeping through the cracks of her windows felt grey and dismissible.

  She looked around to study this strange space she called her room. Her blanket was torn with countless rat holes dotting the mouldy fabric thin like a sheet of washed-out paper, outliving what it was worth for. Some merged to form larger circles chewed apart to give uneven shapes.

  The air stink of damped socks littered together with boiled cabbage and eggs thick enough to nest disturbing thoughts. There were hints of faded red lashes spread across all four walls and the wooden floor, each bearing signs of hits and whips hidden beneath layers of repaint.

  Other than the peace eluded from the small bedside altar, which bore witness to the daily prayers, this room had no comfort or warmth to offer. In the embrace of this dirty display, the fear of losing herself to this vulnerability clung to her chest and shivered with every throbbing of her heart.

  She stood up to move forward lightly. The floor beneath let out an eerie cry when her weight shifted. Her heart skipped a nervous beat.

  Really? Don’t scare yourself. You must be sleepy. This is your room.

  She signed heavily and dragged herself to the basin to wash her face and shook off the remnants of her drowsiness, but the drain was clogged.

  Zun tried to turn off the tap, but at this rather opportune time, the handle decided to get stuck halfway and refused to move. The water quickly filled up the space and started vomiting up old greasy content too messy to tell what they were.

  Panic swept her mind and she turned around to look for a plunger. Her head swirled from one corner to another as the basin water quickly spilt over to the floor and reached past her heel.

  In confusion, she dived both of her hands into the pool of water and tried to unblock the drain, until she felt her fingers were entangled with strands of silver hairs.

  The sensation electrified. Zun screamed in disgust and tried to rip through the mess to set her fingers free, but the instinct to puke kicked in hard. Unable to withhold, her stomach heaved as she retched aggressively over and over, letting out a thin stream of clear liquid that soured her tongue.

  Those nasty hairs had now spread a net across the surface, weaving together to form patterns of chaos so raw in her eyes.

  Noises came flooding in her brain.

  It hurts!

  Stop!

  I was wrong!

  I am sorry!

  They sounded like strangled screams choked down, gasping for air. The insulting names packed with demeaning threats, beaten black and bruised, repeated with an isolated existence in her mind.

  Zun put her filthy palms together with eyes shut in a desperate attempt to chant a few scripts like it could still her mind, but the short silence that followed felt like her pain was forced shut by someone into submission.

  A temptation uninvited settled in. It brought with it the sounds of chains dragging through the floor of her mind with a numbing vibration that rang until she felt deaf.

  “Hush…hush…” She begged to calm down.

  Then, as quiet as a falling feather, someone spoke into her ears, echoing her plea. “Hush now…”

  Time froze in between seconds of thought. Her vision suddenly turned pumping red.

  Who?

  Zun jolted up immediately and opened her eyes, but no one was there. Instead, she was astonished to find herself still in bed. There was no blocked drain, no entangled net of silver hairs, nothing but the suffocating silence.

  “That…that was a nightmare?” She thought to herself as she looked across the damp room. The sun was already peering through the misty windows, but somehow she felt hazy.

  After a good minute of hesitation, she went over to the basin and turned on the water pipe slowly.

  To her relief, the water flowed effortlessly into the drain with a gulping sound.

  She chuckled lightly and washed her face with a cube of soap before putting on her Angel uniform.

  What a good start? She teased herself sarcastically.

  Although there was no mirror in her room, she tried to tidy up her messy hair into a semblance of order to appear polished, but perhaps her chain choker and dark eyes deceived her sense of classiness; she was far from the conventional look of a respectable officer.

  The staircase down was somewhat narrower than she thought, with no handle to even prevent a fall. With quiet precision, she tried to sneak down to avoid causing a scene. But…BANG!

  Zun felt betrayed. She had misplaced her step and stumbled down like a stubborn log.

  “Curse it!” She muttered under her breath.

  Suddenly a quiet humming almost made her jump to her feet. It was her mother chanting from an adjacent room right behind the staircase.

  “Good morning, mom. How are you? What are you doing? You need any help?” The words came shooting from Zun’s mouth like bullets, starving for some attention.

  But her mom's unbothered concentration offered minimal satisfaction. Other than the quiet recitation of a meditative script, the house was dead silent, much like a neglected graveyard needing mowing.

  Not wanting to irritate her mom, but this space, this place, this damned home felt fucked up today.

  Zun clenched her teeth as an unusual sour taste burned her taste buds and fueled a heated emotion.

  Disheartened, Zun patted herself and skipped toward the entrance door, almost humming to lighten the mood. She put on her buckle boots and prepared to leave, but still unable to suppress her bitterness, the girl tilted her head back slightly to catch a glimpse of her mom inside the prayer room, which faced the entrance door directly.

  Is she already doing the daily offering to pray for Father’s protection?

  That woman was sitting on a cushion inside the offering room with her back facing the door and her front facing a large altar crafted from quality rosewood.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  There were two solemn divine figures in robes patched with gold set side by side within a glass-covered shelf of the altar. Their silhouette looked just like the teachers from the House of Glory.

  In front of them sat the figure of Lord Father, a two-winged warrior drenched in dazzling gold. They were all bathed in the soft glow of the candlelight placed directly in front of them outside the glass shelf on the altar’s desk.

  On both sides of the desk, two tall vases of white lilies were offered along with a few sets of fruits like mangos, oranges, and a melon. A small cup of water was also arranged at the centre, right beside the candle, which completed the offering set.

  Facing the gentle lighting, this whole display of offerings felt very decorative.

  The woman seemed to be chanting a silent sutra in a deep, chilling rhythm, savouring the stillness of the moment in deep solitude. Yet the gloomy air lingered breath to breath.

  The heaviness settled in Zun’s heart and weighed down on her mind. She didn’t know why, but something about that ritual made her shiver.

  Every window was tightly shut, and the curtains were closed to prevent the invasion of natural light. With the only light source coming from the dimmed glow of the altar's candle, her mother’s shadow stretched elongated across the floor like an unwelcome guest subtly occupying empty space.

  Why does mom have to devote herself to such a weird practice? Maybe dad really has accumulated a lot of bad karma…that’s why she wants to help cleanse his energy…

  Zun shrugged it off and unlocked the steel gate barricading the front door. These rusty gates were common among all households and served as an extra defence against thieves and demons.

  As Zun made sure the lock was tight, she stepped out of her house to start her day. The chill air instantly rode down her spine and reached the tips of her fingers and toes. It somewhat made her feel more foggy.

  Like usual, she took the side routes in between blocks of houses to avoid unnecessary crowds. But after several twists and turns, she was shocked to see pools of blood all over the ground, bearing hints of violent struggle in every trace of splash as it stretched further out of sight.

  A demon attack?!

  Zun picked up her pace and followed the trail, which led her to a neighbouring compound occupied with unfamiliar, worn-out houses. Their paint was falling off unmanaged as if the site was abandoned by unfortunate people, moving on to better things.

  The air reeked of iron. Silently but surely, she heard a faint cry.

  “Please don’t do this to me.” “I tried my best.” “It did everything for you.” “I didn’t mean to fail you.” “Please don’t give up on me.”

  It was a distant cry echoed from beyond.

  Following the source of the sound, Zun found herself running down a pitch-dark alleyway where sunlight barely touched the ground. Blood splashed soundlessly beneath her feet. All the houses were cast in shadow with their dark windows glaring down at Zun like hollow eyes eating up the last trace of humanity.

  The silence engulfed the atmosphere and captured the scene in a single snapshot of stillness. There, at the very far end of the alley, a little boy was crying for someone. The familiar figure stood alone in front of a dirty concrete wall with his face cast down, and both hands clenched into a fist resting at his sides. The strange sight stirred Zun’s curiosity, but at that moment, she couldn’t remember who he was.

  A few steps forward, his face became more apparent. His dark hair was parted in the centre and fell right down his chin at shoulder-length. He looked pale and weak, but his hollow black eyes were firm, as if they could drag the viewer down a maze of darkness until they lost their footing and never returned.

  “Hello?” Zun called out. “Are you okay?” Her voice echoed back like a response to his agony.

  The little boy stood still like a stiff mannequin. His eyes rolled up eerily to look at her.

  “Little guy, what happened? Are you hurt? Why are you here?”

  “My mama left me.” His response was short and dense.

  “What happened?”

  “Mama l-left me.”

  “Oh…where is she?”

  “Mama is not coming back. Never again.”

  “No mother will abandon their child. There must be a misunderstanding. Come, this place is dangerous, we have to leave.” Zun reached out her hand.

  Yet he didn’t move an inch. “No. She is never coming back. She has abandoned me.”

  Zun felt confused. What the hell is going on? She walked forward to close the gap between them. “Why are you standing here like this? Are you…hurt?”

  “No one w-wants a useless child. He is better off discarded…dead like a used pawn.”

  “Stop saying these scary things.” Zun raised her hand, this time more firmly, and pulled his arm. He didn’t flinch, or rather, it felt like he couldn’t move at all.

  She finally noticed why. His feet were dug into the stone-cold floor, which was tightly sealed at both of his bruised ankles. It was evident that someone had crushed both feet before rooting him there. A daunting expression took over her. She raised her head to take a closer look at his whole figure, squinting her eyes to pierce the shadowy filter and trace every detail.

  The boy had a barbed wire ring fitted around his neck like a torture collar. His head was swelling like a bloated balloon, and his lips were white and sewn together loosely, which restricted his speech to some extent. There were traces of blood smeared across his forehead and eyes.

  “Why?” Overlapping emotions flushed her mind like a riptide, dragging her heart down to the core of bewilderment. “Why are you like this?! Who did this to you?!”

  “Mama lied to me. Mama…sacrifice me.”

  “What do you mean?!”

  “He wants to take me to the tainted altar. He wants to sell me.”

  “What kind of evil plot is this? Who is behind this? Who is he? What do you mean by the tainted altar?!! Where is it?!!!” Zun asked question after question.

  “He is…my father.”

  A stone dropped on her heart.

  She looked up to meet his hollow eyes. Shiver rushed through her nerves and stung her spine. She started to sweat unceasingly as tension crept under her skin and taunted her mind.

  What is it? What is this feeling? This boy, I think I know him. Isn’t he the one who always comes to my dream?

  The little boy pulled her lightly by the hand. His fingers were twisted and torn, with the flesh of his palm exposed painfully.

  “I l-look so ugly, so detestable, right?”

  “No…no…no…please…” She collapsed to the ground as tears tickled down. Thought kept rumbling through her mind, but she couldn’t digest any meaning.

  “So hateful, so bitter, so depressing, am I not?” The little boy repeated.

  With both hands tightly holding his arms, she lightly shook the boy from side to side, all the while screaming. “No! No! NO!!! STOP! YOU ARE A GOOD MAMA BOY!! YOU ARE A GOOD CHILD!! We have always been good children!! Look at me! LOOK!!!”

  The boy started to cry so loud, his lips seemed to split at every inch where the thread sewn into the skin, and his eyeballs gouged out of the sockets.

  Zun started to hyperventilate as tears gushed out of her eyes painfully and blurred her vision.

  “No, this is wrong! Tell me this is not true!! This is a nightmare! A damn nightmare!!”

  Zun hugged the little boy in a tight embrace. In the darkening of her conscience, the boy exploded, spattering blood across the wall and drenching the dismayed actress in shades of red that brightened the gloominess of this world.

  The sun glowed against the doomed sky now glowing red like a forbidden spectator witnessing the unfolding of this tragedy in its shadow, forever tormented by the raging temptation, all the while in Zun’s head, one word kept ringing “Pawn…pawn.”

  “Nobody batted an eye. Nobody cared. I was too naive.”

  She began to hear the sounds of chains dragging across the rocky ground.

  *Cling…cling* It sharpened against friction and rang with a numbing pitch along the alleyway closer and closer toward Zun.

  Heart raced like hell, Zun bolted up and jumped into the window next to her. She looked across the empty space and dashed into the nearest door to escape the sound as far as she could, but it was catching up quicker than a heartbeat.

  She took flight up several stairs and almost crawled at her feet when she reached the attic room.

  As she flung the door open, the sight baffled her. The room almost matched her own; it tore her vision cruelly into splitting colours.

  She staggered across the floor in drunken steps and stopped right in front of her basin mirror.

  Mirror? Why?

  Shiver washed down her nerves like cold steam compressing downward. Why am I…not inside the mirror?

  The sound of the chains crawling closed in the distance toward her. She turned her head to glimpse at the shadow filling the gap under the door to the attic room.

  I see…I am dreaming wide awake...

  The door opened ajar slowly as her heart dropped to the floor.

  But in this dream I am not alone…

  Then she saw it. There in front of her was a pale white man staring with its undetectable presence rooted in the very spine of silence. His silver white hair parted in the middle rested right beside his chin.

  With the soft glow of light peering from the window straight to the door, she could trace his long face and suck-in jaws, which exposed the skeletal structure of his tall cheekbone and pointed chin. He had marble clear eyes, baring no hint of sentient life. There were black lines traced down under the centre of each eye and both corners of his lips, mimicking decorative scars toward the centre of his cheek, faking a forced smile.

  This man, he felt…sinister.

  Her eyes widened in an attempt to consume his figure whole, and he seized her stare like a magnet refusing to let go.

  “Ooo, dear sweet child, are you lost?” The figure whispered with echoing pitches.

  “I come from the sky above. I have come to grant you your wish.” His words were slow, barely touching the rim of this reality.

  Zun leaned forward in terror and in wonder.

  The ghastly figure lent out his hand to reveal his skeletal, warped palm and screw-like fingers. They twisted and turned in dancing motion akin to a puppet on strings.

  Zun was unable to tell where he was reaching for until his hand touched her face and closed her eyelids.

  “Anything you ask for, your darkest wish. ”

  Then, a faint calling seeped into her head.

  “Zun…Zun…wake up.”

  She slowly opened her eyelids again to see several perplexed faces staring down at her.