Seraphim
It had been months, at that point, of her never ending nightmares. The nights seemed darker than they were, even tucked into her blanket cocoon, as she had learned to dread the animosities of her dreams. They contained monsters, and spiders, the usual stuff that makes your heart palpitate and your mind precipitate. Fear-based experiences command a fight-or-flight overdrive, and in that dream world, she fought for her survival nightly. Oddly enough, through the endless quantity of these nightmares that pulled her back in on repeat, she somehow began to find solace in the surrealist worlds that she was entering. They became a test of her willpower, and her intelligence- how will she navigate the never ending torrent of sinister situations, the foreboding feelings? Because ultimately, that’s what these horrible moments were to her- feelings. It was the energy contained in the worlds that she was dropped into that spoke to her the most, over the literal monsters that may be contained there. There have been plenty of times where, instead of a straightforward bad situation, she instead found herself alone in an uncanny pocket of her mind. These dreams manifested mainly as haunted houses, filled with ghosts that she could feel, but that she could not see. Walking around the rooms of these mansions, with their pristine art deco design, she felt the ominous presences around every corner, watching her from across the room, sensing that she was not supposed to be there and quietly emanating a reminder of the power that they held over her existence. Curiosity is what led her here, and the pull she felt to explore these homes, hollowed out of their humanity, was more potent than the insidious energy that radiated from inside their shadows.
