Sitting up on one of the sofas in the room, a reassuring hand was pressed against my spine. "Another nightmare?" was the only thing I could hear. It sounded familiar. My mind was reeling, attempting to find a piece of reality to grasp and steady itself. My thoughts tumbled, unable to keep their feet below them. It took me a moment before my head stoppe spinning and finally found the line between dream and reality.
I mustered all my strength to respond to the unnamed voice from just seconds ago. "Yeah, sorry."
"Why are you apologizing?" The voice answered almost instantly, and the hand against my back disappeared. I let out a quiet exhale, my gaze drifting to look at the owner of the voice. Beside me crouched Sona, his long brown hair pulled …show more content…
I carefully stepped onto the ground, as if a monster were waiting under the sofa to grab my ankles and drag me underneath. I raised my eyes to survey my surroundings, finding nothing too interesting. There were only a few figures in the room, all Squad Leaders waiting for their Recruits. I was one of them.
All three of us were Weavers, monsters made from the modified Cores of Reapers. Despite us all being soldiers, we were completely different from each other. Sona, the Fire Weaver, stood not far from me now as he checked the time on the clock hung on the opposite wall. Jet, the Wind Weaver, stood in a far corner with his back against the wall, a pen sticking out of his teeth and a clipboard with papers in his grasp. I silently sat with my back hunched and my forearms leaning on my thighs as I watched the door.
The lobby wasn't too flashy, as it kept the minimalistic, modern look, but it never failed to make new Recruits stare in awe when they took their first step into Weave's main building. Hell, it had that effect on me when I had joined. I remember it almost perfectly, despite my dire wishes to forget that whole part of my life. Fresh out of surgery, ignorant of what would happen next, full of hatred and burning with the desire for revenge. All childish things that I've long since let go
I mustered all my strength to respond to the unnamed voice from just seconds ago. "Yeah, sorry."
"Why are you apologizing?" The voice answered almost instantly, and the hand against my back disappeared. I let out a quiet exhale, my gaze drifting to look at the owner of the voice. Beside me crouched Sona, his long brown hair pulled …show more content…
I carefully stepped onto the ground, as if a monster were waiting under the sofa to grab my ankles and drag me underneath. I raised my eyes to survey my surroundings, finding nothing too interesting. There were only a few figures in the room, all Squad Leaders waiting for their Recruits. I was one of them.
All three of us were Weavers, monsters made from the modified Cores of Reapers. Despite us all being soldiers, we were completely different from each other. Sona, the Fire Weaver, stood not far from me now as he checked the time on the clock hung on the opposite wall. Jet, the Wind Weaver, stood in a far corner with his back against the wall, a pen sticking out of his teeth and a clipboard with papers in his grasp. I silently sat with my back hunched and my forearms leaning on my thighs as I watched the door.
The lobby wasn't too flashy, as it kept the minimalistic, modern look, but it never failed to make new Recruits stare in awe when they took their first step into Weave's main building. Hell, it had that effect on me when I had joined. I remember it almost perfectly, despite my dire wishes to forget that whole part of my life. Fresh out of surgery, ignorant of what would happen next, full of hatred and burning with the desire for revenge. All childish things that I've long since let go