Lamentis Obscura

Chapter 4

I woke up in a void. The air was thick, stifling, and heavy with a heat that clung to my skin like a second layer. Darkness pressed in around me, vast and unrelenting, and the only sensation I could grasp was the hot breeze that blew past me. It wasn’t comforting; it felt alive, purposeful.

Something—or someone—was here. I could feel it.

“Hello?” I whispered, my voice trembling under the weight of fear. My heart pounded so loudly it felt like it might crack my ribs. My legs quaked, shifting restlessly as if I could dance away from the dread creeping up my spine.

Suddenly—

Crack!

The sound was sharp, unnatural, and close. Too close.

My head snapped toward it, my breath hitching. It was like something—or someone—had broken a branch in the suffocating stillness.

“Who’s there?” I yelled, my voice echoing into the void. It bounced back to me, distorted and hollow, as if the darkness was mocking me.

Another breeze swept past, hotter this time, prickling my skin like it wanted to warn me. I shivered despite the heat. I shouldn’t be here. Wherever here was, it felt forbidden, wrong.

A lump formed in my throat, and tears welled in my eyes. Was I dead? Or worse—was I about to die?

“Calm down, Azirah,” I muttered, trying to steady myself. “This is just a dream. It has to be a dream…”

I squeezed my eyes shut and pinched my arm hard, willing myself to wake up.

“Ouch!” I hissed, jerking away from the sharp sting. The pain was real. Too real. My stomach churned, a wave of nausea hitting me as the truth settled in. This wasn’t a dream.

I swallowed hard, forcing my trembling legs to move. Each step felt like a betrayal of my instincts, like walking deeper into the mouth of a beast. “Where am I? What is this place?” The questions rattled in my mind, chaotic and unanswered.

My thoughts spiraled: What if George couldn’t save me? What if I was beyond saving?

“Hello!” I screamed, my voice raw with desperation. The darkness seemed to pulse around me, as if alive. The breeze returned, hotter, harsher, slamming against me like a wall.

And then I felt it.

A presence. Towering. Menacing. Right in front of me.

“You shouldn’t be here,” a raspy voice whispered, so close it brushed my ear.

I froze, ice filling my veins. My lips moved soundlessly before I found my voice. “Who’s there?” I stammered, spinning around, but there was no one—nothing.

“No,” the voice said again, calm yet commanding. “The real question is: Why are you here?”

My chest tightened, my breath coming in shallow gasps. “Why am I here? What is this place? How did I get here?” I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper.

“Good,” the voice replied, a hint of amusement lacing its tone. “You learn fast. But one question at a time.”

The air thickened further, pressing down on me. “You are here because you are bonded with the shadows he carries. You are shadowbonded. This place is the Lamentis Obscura—his deepest, most sorrowful sanctuary. A realm where pain and darkness echo endlessly.”

I turned wildly, trying to locate the voice, but it was everywhere and nowhere. It wrapped around me, moving faster than I could react. “I don’t understand!” I cried. “Who is he?”

A low chuckle reverberated through the void, both unsettling and oddly soothing. “You’ll see him… but only if you ask him to step into the light.”

I frowned, panic bubbling in my chest. “What light? There’s nothing but darkness here!”

The ground beneath me seemed to shift. A low, guttural growl rumbled through the air, vibrating in my chest. I yelped, stumbling backward.

“What was that?” I whispered, my voice trembling as much as my legs.

“Shhhh,” the voice warned sharply. “Do not awaken him. Not yet. Not until you are ready.”

“Ready for what? Who is he? How did I even get here?” My voice cracked as desperation clawed at me.

Another chuckle rang out, curling around me like smoke. “You brought yourself here, Azirah. As his Luminara, you will come often. But you must never stay too long. If you linger, his darkness will consume you. And if you are desperate…” The voice paused, its tone darkening. “…he will take your soul.”

A whirlwind surged around me suddenly, violent and unrelenting. I was caught in it, spinning helplessly.

“Wait!” I screamed, tears streaming down my face. “I don’t understand!”

“You will,” the voice whispered, its tone fading like a dying echo. “Soon.”

And then there was light.

I gasped, jolting upright so fast I knocked something over. Pain shot through my ribs as I clutched my chest, my breaths coming in sharp, shallow bursts.

“Are you okay?” a familiar voice asked, breaking through the haze.

I blinked, disoriented, my surroundings slowly coming into focus. It was a small secluded room. With dimly candle light. It looked old although neatly kept, it felt longed abandoned.

I turned around, and our eyes met.

“Nergal,” I whispered, his name rolling off my tongue like an incantation, oddly soothing. A fleeting sense of relief washed over me.

“Tears?” he asked, his voice deep and curious as he pulled me into his arms. “What were you dreaming of?”

I blinked, startled, and quickly wiped at my face. Only then did I realize my cheeks were wet with tears. My chest felt heavy, weighed down by emotions I couldn’t name. The urge to cry even harder clawed at me, but I swallowed it down. Pain throbbed through my body, leaving me weak and trembling.

Then it hit me—the transformation.

I pulled away from him so abruptly that his hands dropped to his sides. Fear surged through me as my breathing quickened.

“What are you?” I demanded, my voice unsteady, betraying the growing terror inside me.

He tilted his head slightly, a sly smile playing on his lips. “I’m human.” His tone dripped with mockery, but I wasn’t in the mood for games.

“Speak!” I snapped, though my voice was softer than I intended.

“What do you think I am?” he countered smoothly, walking over to pour himself a glass of wine. His movements were deliberate, calm, as if he had all the time in the world. He sipped it leisurely, his dark eyes never leaving me.

“You…” I started but faltered, unsure if I should continue. My thoughts swirled in chaos. Was I imagining this? Was I losing my mind? The pounding in my head grew fiercer, each throb a cruel reminder of the strange reality I was trapped in.

“Go on,” he urged, his voice steady but with a subtle edge of amusement. His black eyes bore into me, stripping away every ounce of composure I had left.

My fingers clutched at my clothes, a futile attempt to shield myself from the intensity of his gaze. It wasn’t about what I was wearing—it was the way he looked at me, as if he could see past the fabric, past my skin, into the very core of me.

“You’re a beast!” I blurted out, biting my lip as the words left my mouth.

For a moment, he stood perfectly still, his expression unreadable. Then, with deliberate calm, he tipped his head back and drained the rest of the wine in one gulp. He straightened, setting the glass down with a sharp clink that echoed through the tense silence.

He began walking toward me.

Panic surged through me like a tidal wave. My eyes darted around the room, desperate for an escape. My hand closed around a small knife lying on the table nearby. I grabbed it, clutching it tightly as I pressed my back against the wall.

There was nowhere to run.

My body trembled uncontrollably, my breathing shallow and ragged. Tears threatened to spill, but I bit down hard on my lip, forcing them back. My outstretched hand shook violently, the knife trembling in my grasp. My arm ached from the strain, but I couldn’t lower it.

He stopped just inches away, close enough that the tip of the blade pressed against his suit. His gaze drifted down, lingering on the exposed skin of my neckline. A predatory hunger flashed in his dark eyes, and a smirk tugged at his lips.

“I could have you if I wanted to,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous.