#sotee eric

Last night I had the strangest dream of all

Smoke slipped from Eric’s parted lips as his arms dangled off the balcony, the tail of his suit flapping gently in the breeze. He looked over the illuminated city, storm clouds brewing over it, obscuring the light from the shore.

They only seemed to grow closer and he sighed, taking another drag on his cigarette. He had time. He adjusted his necklace, the key hitting his chest as he let go. His dark eyes turned, gazing at his watch. 3:33 AM. ‘Devil’s hour,’ he thought, a smirk tugging at his lips. ‘Seems fitting.’ A siren blared over the city.

Last night I had the strangest dream of all Somewhere, three decades ago, a young woman sat alone in an office. Back against the wall as she stared, terrified, at the person in front of them. Her hands cradled her side, black blood seeping between her fingers and staining the floor. “Why?” she rasped, tears slipping down her cheeks as black spots swirled her vision. “Because, my dear Absinthe,” That wasn’t her name. Not yet anyway. A hand cupped her face gently. “You have a new assignment.”

Last night I had the strangest dream of all “You’re doing great, Angellica, I promise, almost there,” a voice cooed. “Just get the damn thing out of me!” “She’s your daughter, not a thing.” “Not to me.” A baby began screaming.

Last night I had the strangest dream of all

Eric stared up at the forest, sparks and ash flickering down around him. “Erica!’ a harsh voice called from miles away. How could he go home? To them? He jolted, fear coursing through him. And then flames roared, branches and wood creaking and hissing as dark fire shot through them. Smoke rose high above the forest. Last night I had the strangest dream of all “Where’s Jason?” His father called, his angry voice would normally cause panic to flood through Eric. However, as he stood in the backyard, trying to subtly pack down dirt with his feet, he wasn’t scared. Not at all. “I’m not sure. I thought he went to the skate park.” They’d never find the bloody knife in the woods.

(Nothing will ever be the same) A shadowy figure surged forward, pulling itself off of the wall, moving the other shadows with it until it formed a body. An inky black figure, with white eyes and a vague shape of a mouth. It was like it was made of the dark. The deepest shade of it. “Who are you?” “My name is Absinthe.”

Last night I had the strangest dream of all “You ready for this?” Absinthe asked, grinning at Eric, who nervously stared at the swirling black portal in front of them. “As I’ll ever be,” he answered, shrugging. Absinthe took his hand in hers and jumped forward, sucking him down into the portal with him. Eric kept his eyes shut tight, while he felt the world shifting around him. Nothing would ever be the same.

(The world is yours if you want it) “Come on, that's all you got?” Absinthe called, surging forward and pressing Eric against the stone, sword at his neck. “Well you,” he said, kicking out and pushing her off him. “Won’t let me use my powers.” “Parasite,” Absinthe corrected, staggering back, adjusting her grip on the sword. “Same thing.” “Not quite.” “Both enhance my fighting ability.” “Just - come at me again. If you want to be able to take Ambrose, you gotta do better than that.”

Last night I had the strangest dream of all Eric peered down at the water, looking for the signature ripples he’d come to love. From deep below, a light blue glow appeared and grew closer, fading as it got closer to the surface. A dark haired head poked above the surface and bright yellow eyes blinked up at him. Eric grinned widely, offering a hand to Milo and pulling him up onto the rock. “Hey fish-face.”

(Take this time you have) A storm rumbled overhead, lightning flashing in the distance. Thunder roared and shook the ground, stones falling out from the castle walls. Eric didn’t care. He still stalked forward, backing Ambrose up to the very edge, his heels teetering off the edge. Rain soaked the two, Eric’s suit clinging to his chest, the white shirt becoming see-through, showing off the far too many scars etched into the ash gray skin. Yellow eyes glared at Ambrose, who for once, looked panicked with a sword pointed directly at his throat. “You remember yet?” Last night I had the strangest dream of all The world was dark red, fire roaring all around the two. The throne looked giant compared to Eric, and it was. Intricately decorated and surrounded by the finest things. He didn’t kneel however when the red eyed man in front of him glared down at him. He’d never kneel. He wasn’t born to kneel. And somewhere, two decades ago, a castle roared up in flames. Everything burned except a cradle, where an infant cried, and rocked. The baby’s eyes opened, a bright yellow, contrasting against the dark room, the dark world. It was 3:33 AM. It was only fitting. The devil’s hour.