The wind whipped against his face, cold and icy. Zascha opened his eyes and there he stood once more. A top that frozen peak that looked down into darkness. Wind and snow swirling around him, so isolated. So bleak. Though this time there was no vision of chaos beneath him. It was just a wide, dark, dead void that spread as far as he could see. It was death.

He was getting kind of tired of this theme.

But all of a sudden he was pulled forward. As if the air around him was dragging him through time and space. No longer on that snowy mountain Zascha found himself in front of a familiar door. A door he had long since walked out of. But it was as fresh in his memories as the bacon he had had for breakfast the other day.

Something called to him, drew him towards his old home. The stairs creaked with each step. A sound he knew would happen time and time again. Every time he had left and come home those wooden stairs creaked with each step. As he moved across the porch a thick, metallic smell curled his nose. This smell was as familiar now as it had been then on that day.

His heart pounded in his ears as he reached for the door. There was no movement that he could tell inside. There hadn't been that day either. Slowly he pushed the door open, it creaked as well until it finally caught on something and stopped.

A boot.

No, he couldn't. He couldn't see it again. The death, the blood. The innocent faces of his sisters as they lay there murdered. Anna having thrown her body over the other two to protect them. How Merina wasn't there.

He ran. But where he was to run to he had no idea. There was nothing but darkness around him. Nothing but that smell of their corpses to bring tears stringing in his eyes. But then a sudden sharp pain in his sides, like two blades slicing his skin. Another sharp stab to his stomach and he slumped to his knees.

No, he had died before like this. But he had been given a second chance right? Though it seemed as if all that he experienced afterwards alluded to something else. He might be alive but he wasn't the same.

Blood pooled around him and he stared at his hands which were shaking, they too covered in blood. If he couldn't stop bleeding he would die.

In the distance he could hear screaming, but it wasn't a human scream. The scream of a beast, or perhaps the screech of a bird. It drew closer and closer and as he turned Zascha was hit with a wall of fire that enveloped him. Smothered him. But it wasn't painful as he watched his skin melt away, his bones burn and turn black. This was true death. He would die in the fire.

The fire of....

WAKE UP!!

Zascha's eyes snapped open to the sound of Gothsmog's voice screaming in his head. He put the heel of his palm against his left eye. Grumbling lightly. He had slept but he didn't feel like he had had any rest at all. "What is it Gothsmog?"

You were crying in your sleep.....

Placing his fingertips against his cheeks he could feel the moisture of half dried tears upon them.

What is wrong?

"Nothing. Just a bad dream about a bad time."

Do you want to talk about it?

Zascha laughed, grasping his upper arms with large hands. "I didn't know you cared so much Gothsmog. No, my problems with this I need to deal with alone. Go back to sleep or whatever it is you do when I'm asleep or your not talking."

A pause. I watch you when you sleep.

That caused him to pause. If Gothsmog were an actual person in the room she would see the confused look on his face. Though he was pretty sure she could at least feel his confusion. "That is....kind of creepy."

WELL WHO THE HELL ELSE IS GOING TO PROTECT YOUR SQUISHY LITTLE HUMAN a** IN CASE SOMEONE TRIES TO KILL YOU IN YOUR SLEEP.

"Ok ok, calm down sheesh." Flopping back on to his side, Zascha laid there for a moment. Pulling his arm under his pillow while staring at the bare wall across the room. "Are you able to go into my dreams?"

Another pause. What makes you think that.

"Nothing, I was just curious. Good night Gothsmog."

Good night.

But Zascha didn't drift back off to sleep like he had intended. Instead he rolled through thoughts. Thoughts that he kept Gothsmog from being able to see. A partitioned part of his mind if you wanted to get technical. Sometimes he needed a space to just be him without her nitpicking or making comments here and there.