Chapter 36: The Nightmare of the Crimson Moon

Liliya was jolted awake in the dead of night, haunted by the lingering terror of a nightmare—the one about the mist.

Within the dream, she witnessed an eerie mist from which undulating tentacles slowly snaked out, one after another. Before these colossal appendages, Liliya felt as minuscule as an ant. Grotesque laughter permeated the very fabric of existence, as the world contorted into a disquieting form, flashing with never-before-seen hues. Countless iridescent bubbles gently seeped from the mist, while the ground beneath her began to fissure. A viscous, clinging fog enveloped Liliya’s body, and as she watched, those bubbles cackled with sharp, piercing glee. Black eyes materialized, opening in the air, and amidst the beast-like wails of infants, she could only watch, horrified, as the mist slowly dissolved her very being.

The dream, with its extreme cold and grotesque distortions, surpassed even the most deranged and terrifying nightmares buried deep within Liliya’s psyche.

The chilling, twisted essence of the dream had seared itself deeply into Liliya’s mind, a despair that pierced every nerve in her body, leaving her heart consumed by a profound unease.

“Huuuh—”

Drenched in a cold sweat, Liliya sat on the edge of the bed. She cast a glance at Thrud, who slept soundly beside her, then placed a hand over her own chest, gently patting it as she slowly began to take deep, calming breaths.

For reasons unknown, that particular dream clung persistently to Liliya’s mind, refusing to dissipate. This was unprecedented; Liliya had never before dwelled on a mere dream, yet tonight was undeniably different. The nightmare had infiltrated every recess of her thoughts, adhering stubbornly to her brain, denying her even a fleeting moment of tranquility.

Ever since their arrival in this small town, a succession of strange occurrences had plagued them.

First, Aldoran and Qing Yu had encountered that inexplicable mist. Then, she and Thrud had been caught in a bizarre earthquake and torrential downpour. Now, this terrifying dream had befallen her.

‘Thrud, Thrud,’ Liliya whispered, her voice laced with an inexplicable fear as she gently nudged Thrud. She yearned to wake her companion, to have someone to talk to, to alleviate the crushing pressure in her heart.

Yet Thrud merely smacked her lips, rolled over, and shifted into a new position, resuming her slumber, occasionally mumbling a few words in her sleep.

‘Thrud, Thrud,’ Liliya tried again, nudging Thrud more insistently. Alas, Thrud was a heavy sleeper, and no matter what Liliya did, she simply could not rouse her.

Resigned, Liliya could only sigh, leaning back against the headboard to sit quietly, making a concerted effort to banish the unsettling dream from her thoughts.

Tonight, the hazy darkness of the night enveloped everything, the sky a canvas of oppressive gloom where even faint starlight was obscured by heavy, massed clouds. A cold wind whistled past the tall birch trees outside the window, their rustling leaves creating a soft ‘shhh-shhh-shhh’ sound, while the windowpanes occasionally rattled, producing an unwelcome clatter.

Liliya felt an inexplicable tremor in her heart, which began to pound faster, while a pervasive tension permeated the small confines of the room.

‘Damn it,’ she thought, ‘why, of all nights, is there no moon tonight?’

Even a single sliver of light would have offered Liliya immense solace.

With a hint of displeasure, Liliya cast a quick glance towards the window.

Curiously, a golden full moon undeniably graced the night sky, yet its luminescence seemed to be entirely obscured, as if by an unseen barrier. Not a single ray of moonlight reached the ground, leaving the world beyond the window in a suffocating, oppressive gloom.

‘What is happening?’ Liliya wondered, feeling an involuntary shiver run through her. She clutched the blanket higher, drawing it up to her chest, then, with one hand gripping its edge and the other fastened to the bed frame, she cautiously peered towards the moon.

As she leaned forward, Liliya felt a distinct tug at the nape of her neck, yet when she swiftly turned to investigate, there was nothing to be seen.

‘Perhaps it’s just a hallucination,’ she thought.

Liliya strove to reassure herself, despite the persistent sensation of a whisper in her ear, cautioning her not to gaze at the moon. Yet, within the confines of her mind, her nerves screamed and rioted, compelling her irresistibly to fix her gaze upon that luminous, jade-like orb.

One side offered a gentle warning, the other, a relentless incitement.

In the end, the soft admonition proved no match for the clamorous coaxing, and Liliya, as if compelled by an unseen force, found her gaze drawn to the window, towards the brilliant moon suspended in the night sky.

“Tap, tap, tap”

In the very instant her eyes met the moon, a soft tapping echoed from the windowpane.

“Tap, tap, tap”

The distinct tapping reverberated through the room, yet Liliya remained utterly oblivious. Her eyes were fixed on the moon, her gaze slowly becoming detached, distant.

Imperceptibly, the moon had shed its pristine white, a faint darkness creeping over its surface. A pale red glow pierced through the clouds, slowly outlining a streak of crimson within the deepening blackness.

“……”

The moon shone with an intense, blinding brilliance, its light finally breaching the invisible barrier in the sky, scattering itself, bit by bit, upon the earth below.

A somber crimson hue filtered through the window, silently permeating the room.

“Click,” the room’s light flickered on.

Immediately afterward, a grating sound broke the silence. Beside Liliya, the old, decaying window began to slide open, inch by agonizing inch, the ‘creak-creak-creak’ echoing incessantly. Thin tendrils of black light squeezed through the window’s widening gaps, silently spreading across the dusty floorboards.

“Tap, tap, tap”

“Creak, creak, creak”

One impression after another materialized on the windowpane—no, not handprints. Each mark was impossibly smooth, perfectly uniform, a single elongated line devoid of any superfluous curves. A viscous red liquid slowly began to trickle down the glass.

“Drip, drop”

The sound of the liquid dripping onto the floor was magnified exponentially in Liliya’s ears. Only then did a horrifying realization dawn upon her: the marks were not appearing from outside, but originating from within the room itself.

“Drip, drop”

A cold drop wet Liliya’s nose, and she realized the window had, at some point, swung fully open.

A profound, suffocating blackness surged inward, engulfing everything until the entire world seemed reduced to only the faint, ominous glow of the bright moon.

Unfamiliar languages, at once solemn and dignified, began to echo in Liliya’s ears.

Interspersed with these were faint sounds of laughter, mockery, mournful wails, and desperate weeping.

The cries of infants, the shrieks of the elderly, the pleas of men, the curses of women, and the guttural roars of beasts twisted into a cacophony that seemed to emanate from right beside her, yet simultaneously from the farthest reaches of the sky.

A pervasive, bone-chilling cold permeated the entire room.

Liliya watched the moon, as the tendrils of blood-red within its black radiance slowly began to stir. The crimson seemed imbued with a sinister sentience, shifting in an utterly bizarre, indescribable fashion, and under Liliya’s terrified gaze, it moved, slowly, ever so slowly—

The crimson deepened, growing richer and richer until it was almost indistinguishable from black. Within the mirroring depths of Liliya’s pupils, a multitude of faces, contorted in anguish, slowly began to surface.

Yet, high above in the vaulted expanse, the moon remained a patch of darkness interwoven with threads of blood-red. Liliya desperately tried to tear her gaze away, but the sky seemed to exert an inexplicable, magnetic pull, holding her eyes captive.

She found herself utterly unable to look at anything beyond the moon, which seemed intent on ensnaring her soul, forbidding her gaze to stray.

Fear, an icy coldness, and a profound sense of helplessness crept into her heart, akin to barbed thorns that relentlessly pierced her very core, refusing to loosen their grip.

The room had inexplicably transformed into a verdant hue. Liliya stared blankly, having forgotten the room’s original color, only perceiving in this dark, almost black-green an inexplicable…

‘Beauty?’

‘An incomprehensible beauty, beyond all imagining?’

She couldn’t articulate the sensation; it simply left her feeling utterly bewildered.

Something coiled around her body, yet in the very next second, the sensation vanished, replaced by an even more profound and oppressive darkness.

The room had turned as cold as an abyss, utterly devoid of warmth. A frigid wind howled through, the ceiling long gone, replaced by an inverted, pitch-black jungle looming above Liliya. From its depths emanated the howls of beasts she had never before heard, sounds so grotesque and terrifying they made her heart lurch.

The beast’s roar caused the very sky to tremble; it was undeniably a colossal creature, far beyond any known recognition.

A profound terror surged, engulfing the world.

‘Thrud, Thrud!’ Liliya cried out, struggling, desperately calling Thrud’s name as if it were her last, desperate lifeline.

‘Thrud, Thrud!’

‘Thrud, Thrud!’ Liliya’s eyes remained firmly ensnared by the moon, forcing her to strain her hand, striking the blanket with all her might as she continued to scream Thrud’s name.

‘Thrud, Thrud!’

Silence. An endless, crushing silence. The only sounds were the whistling wind in her ears, a distant rumble of thunder from the horizon, and streaks of lightning—fire snakes—slithering across the sky.

‘Thrud, Thrud!’ she shrieked, striking out, Liliya poured every ounce of her strength into her efforts until, at last, her hand connected with Thrud’s usual spot—

‘Thrud! Thrud!’

Pleading for help, she slammed her hand down hard onto the blanket—

The blanket instantly gave way, and the familiar softness of the mattress met her hand.

****

“Aldoran,” Qing Yu called out, emerging from the bathroom. He toweled the water droplets from his hair as he made his way towards Aldoran.

‘A bath truly feels wonderful,’ he mused.

The weather was equally pleasant, leaving him feeling utterly refreshed from head to toe—a sensation of pure bliss.

“Are you finished bathing?” Aldoran inquired, already settled in bed. Without turning, she continued to engross herself in a storybook. “Come on up, I’ve already warmed the bed with magic.”

“Mm,” Qing Yu hummed, nodding his assent. He quickened his pace, passing by the two flowers that had long since withered…