5. Thillak

Iwas back in the dream that was a memory.

The intense pulse of pain wrapped around my very soul, and I was caught in the grasp of a memory so raw and vivid, it was almost tangible.

I could feel the cold, rough texture of the concrete beneath my back, and the heavy weight of the restraints that held me in place.

The pungent aroma of dampness and decay filled my nostrils.

The ritualistic chants of the four shadowy figures echoed ominously in the dimly lit chamber, casting an eerie pallor over everything.

Isla's terrified face was right next to mine, her blue eyes wide with a mix of fear and defiance.

The pale light from the hovering orbs illuminated the contours of her face, making her appear ethereal.

I tried to reach out to her, to reassure her, but the weight on my chest was suffocating, making it impossible to move or speak.

Her screams mingled with mine as an indescribable pain seared through me, like a part of me was being viciously torn away.

My heart raced, the adrenaline coursing through my veins making me feel jittery.

The scene shifted.

A piercing scream echoed down the corridors of some forgotten place.

Isla!

Panic bubbled up within me.

Isla was held aloft above a vortex of light.

She looked panicked, her eyes darting around in confusion.

"Isla!" I called out, reaching for her, but an invisible force held me back.

The same four figures from my dream, shrouded in dark robes, emerged from the shadows, their chants rising in volume and intensity.

Their haunting melody was both entrancing and maddening, sending a shiver down my spine.

"This is not your fate to intervene," one of them intoned, his voice echoing in the confined space.

"But she's my fated mate!" I shouted back, desperation evident in my voice.

The lead figure, distinguishable only by the intricate golden emblem on his robe, stepped forward. "And that is the very reason she's here. Her fate is intertwined with yours, Thillak."

I felt a cold dread settling in the pit of my stomach. "What do you want from her? From us?"

The figure remained silent for a moment, the weight of his gaze palpable even though his face was hidden. "Balance," he replied.

The chant intensified once more, and the vortex around Isla grew brighter, almost blinding in its intensity.

The taste of salty tears was bitter on my lips.

She was gone.

And with her, a piece of my heart.

I would find her.

Whatever it took, I would bring her back.

Gritting my teeth, I rose to my feet, determination burning in my veins.

This was no dream, no premonition.

This was reality, and I was ready to face it head-on.

* * *

I burstup in my bed, drenched with sweat from the twin nightmares.

Or was it a single dream depicting the same event?

I wasn't sure.

It was a jumbled mess I hadn't even begun to uncoil.

The weight of dread hung heavy in my chest, every heartbeat echoing Isla's name.

Her scream resonated in my ears, a haunting memory that anchored itself in the depths of my soul, played in an endless loop, a reminder of the urgency of the moment.

Then, I heard it.

A scream.

Isla's scream.

I burst out of the room, my feet almost slipping on the smooth, cold steel of the hallway.

The sterile smell of the prison's ventilation system met my nostrils, mixed with the distant odor of machinery.

My skin was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, making my body tingle in the cold air.

The dim lighting of the corridor painted everything in soft shades of blue, making the place appear even more eerie and desolate.

"What do you mean she left on her own?!" I growled at the guard, my voice echoing through the otherwise silent hallway.

The towering figure of the guard shifted uncomfortably, the ambient lights casting dark shadows across his craggy, alien features.

His many eyes, arranged in a semi-circle on his forehead, blinked out of sync. "She said she wanted to walk alone. I offered to accompany her, but she declined."

"Never let her go alone again," I snapped, my voice a rough growl. "Especially not in a place like this."

Without waiting for a reply, I set off in the direction I'd last heard Isla's scream, my heart pounding loudly in my ears.

The guard hurried to keep pace with me, his large footsteps echoing.

The aura of a distant fire, mingling with an undertone of sweat and fear, met my nose as we raced down the hallway, giving a hint to the tension that lay beneath the prison's seemingly calm surface.

I strained my ears, trying to catch any sound that could lead us to Isla.

The quiet hum of the prison's life support systems, the distant murmur of conversations, and the echoing footsteps of other inmates and guards filled the silence.

It felt like an eternity, though it was probably just a few seconds, before I heard it again:

A terrified scream, unmistakably Isla's, slicing through the ambient noise like a sharp knife.

"That way!" I yelled, veering off towards the source of the sound.

As we rounded a corner, the all-too-familiar sight of the two scarred prisoners came into view.

They were moving menacingly towards Isla, who was backed into a corner, her eyes wide with fear.

The grotesque smile on the face of one of the behemoths made my blood boil.

I let out a roar of fury, feeling an overwhelming surge of protectiveness.

Charging towards them, I felt every muscle in my body coiling, ready to unleash its full strength.

With a swift movement, I tackled one of the brutes to the ground, landing a series of punches on his face.

The sensation of his tough, rough skin against my knuckles, combined with the sound of bones cracking, fueled my determination.

The guard, to his credit, was quick to engage the other prisoner, leaving Isla momentarily unharmed.

I could hear her shallow breaths.

My vision tinted red as an uncontrollable rage surged through me.

My nostrils flared.

The distinct aroma of Isla's natural fragrance, intermingling with the stench of sweat and malevolence from the two creatures, did nothing to quell my fury.

A low growl erupted from the back of my throat, a primal sound I hadn't made in what felt like eons.

I vaguely registered the surprised gasp from Isla and the alarmed shouts from nearby inmates.

Landing on the behemoth, I allowed the beast within me to take control, using strength and agility I had long suppressed.

My nails dug into the prisoner's rough, leather-like skin, drawing thick, inky fluid.

His surprised yelp was music to my ears, the salty-sweet whiff of his blood filling my nostrils.

To my side, I could hear the thuds and grunts of my guard as he engaged with the second prisoner.

The rhythmic clash of bodies and the symphony of battle cries painted a vivid picture of chaos.

Time seemed to blur, the sensations and emotions heightening every sense.

The sight of Isla's terrified face, the echo of her panicked voice calling my name, the textured feel of my adversary's skin as I continued to hammer at him with my bloodied fists, the rich smell of exertion and combat; it all fused together in an intense maelstrom.

With one final growl, I drove my fist into the prisoner's jaw, feeling the satisfying crunch of bone.

He crumpled beneath me, unconscious or worse.

I didn't care.

And I continued to batter him.

The clattering of boots echoed through the sterile corridors, signaling the approach of the prison guards.

The familiar essence of their uniforms wafted toward me, a blend of worn leather and metal.

Isla's terrified gasps and the distant hum of the facility filled my ears as the guards rounded the corner, weapons raised.

But then they saw me.

Their pace slowed, recognition widening their eyes.

These guards knew me, not just as a fellow inmate, but as someone not to be trifled with.

Someone with power, influence, and the capability for violence beyond most prisoners' imaginations.

Their hesitant steps and the sudden drop in tension in the atmosphere said everything.

They came to maintain order, but they weren't willing to confront me.

Shared glances among the guards conveyed their unspoken agreement, and without a word, they turned on their heels and retreated.

The clang of their boots fading was almost deafening in its silence, leaving behind only the palpable energy of the aftermath.

My vision refocused on the creature beneath me.

The once intimidating prisoner was now reduced to a bloody, mangled mess.

My knuckles throbbed, streaked with a mix of his dark blood and my own brighter shade.

A disconcerting sense of pride mingled with my alarm — pride in my ability to defend and assert my dominance, and alarm at the ease with which I had unleashed such violence.

The corridor, dimly lit and eerily silent, seemed to stretch infinitely.

My guard, still by my side, watched me with a mixture of admiration and caution. "Boss," he murmured, breaking the silence.

I turned to him, blinking as the last shreds of the beast within receded.

His simple utterance made me realize the gravity of what had just transpired.

But then my gaze shifted to Isla.

Her wide, terrified eyes were fixated on the unconscious prisoner.

Her body trembled, her soft lips parted as she took shallow, uneven breaths.

The alluring fragrance of her hair and skin reached me.

As the stinging sensation of the cuts on my knuckles slowly registered, I realized I needed to reassure her, to bring her back from the brink of the horror she had just witnessed.

Taking a tentative step toward her, I reached out, my hand shaking slightly.

The touch of her skin was both electric and soothing.

Sensing her initial hesitation, I waited, giving her time to decide.

Moments felt like hours until she finally collapsed into my embrace.

The soft sob that escaped her lips was heart-wrenching.

Cradling her head, I ran my fingers through her silky tresses, trying to convey all the comfort and protection I could offer.

The rhythmic pattern of her heartbeat against my chest slowly steadied, and the warmth of her body, pressed against mine, was a stark reminder of her vulnerability in this brutal place.

"It's over," I whispered into her ear, hoping to anchor her back to the present moment. "You're safe now. I've got you."

She clung to me, her fingers gripping the fabric of my clothes.

Her sobs subsided.

The taste of salty tears mingled with the remnants of the fight as I kissed her forehead, willing away the horrors she'd seen.

"I won't let them hurt you," I vowed, pulling away slightly to look deep into her eyes, trying to convey the depths of my promise.

She nodded, her gaze searching mine, perhaps seeking confirmation that amidst all the chaos and violence, there remained a haven for her.

In that moment, we became each other's anchor in a tumultuous sea of uncertainty.