As his vision returned, Ezkiel felt a weight on his chest that made it hard to breathe. Startled, he threw the shape lodged on his body to the side with all his might.
— AAHH! Okay! Okay! Kiel, I'm awake! Was all that necessary?
Maeve fell, startled. Her messy hair over her face made her look like an apparition.
Ezkiel was still dazed. He tried to get up, but his left shoulder ached absurdly. His body felt like it had been run over by a car, and his head burned with a heavy migraine.
— Hell...
He whispered, holding back the urge to vomit from the pain.
The confusion was still all over his body, running through his nervous system like lightning bolts that electrocuted the wounds, a burning sensation similar to numbness, but more intense.
The feeling was conflicting. He could feel the pains in his body, but the wounds didn't exist. Only the shocks and burning numbness ached in his flesh and bones, showing in detail where the dream's wounds should be.
— Kiel... Are you okay?
Maeve was a little scared, her cheeks puffed with air from the abrupt fall.
The boy didn't answer. He was in too much discomfort to stand, with spasms of pain shooting through his body. He slowly tried to lift his right arm, but couldn't: a shock ran to the tip of his finger and up to the center of his forehead.
Irritated, he stared at the object that had started all the suffering. The dreamcatcher still swayed gently above the bed, as if nothing had happened. Enraged, he grabbed the object with his left hand and began to tear it apart, channeling all the rage that reverberated in his core, demonstrating the torture he had suffered, all the fear, all the despair in every thread and twig that made up the object.
Maeve watched in disbelief as her boyfriend destroyed the gift she had given him. With eyes full of tears, she began to get up. With light steps, she approached him while sobbing quietly.
— Kiel! What happened? Are you mad at me? I know you thought it was silly, but you didn't have to break it like that.
Her voice had a pained tone, as if her fragile heart were breaking.
After channeling all his fury into the object, he looked at his crying girlfriend. She had always been delicate, emotional enough to feel that every action around her was her fault.
— No. No. The filter worked. I just had a nightmare!
At that moment, Ezkiel knew he couldn't tell her what had happened in the dream. Maeve would never forgive herself for making him suffer.
— Oh, my God! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!
She ran, completely guilty, and hugged him. Tears streamed down her white and delicate face.
— It's okay! It's over...
He held himself back from screaming in pain. Every time Maeve tightened her hug out of guilt and threw her small body onto his, the pain only got worse.
Maeve remained in the hug for a few minutes, until she could completely compose herself. Then, she returned to her normal pattern. She walked a bit around Ezkiel's room, grabbing clothes to change into. After all, the first day of the school year was beginning.
Ezkiel had almost forgotten his desire to get back to playing sports on the court. His mind was still focused on the pain, but he believed it would get better soon.
His girlfriend had just gotten into the shower. The sound of the shower turning on echoed as he still tried to get up. He slowly took off his pajama shirt, looking at himself in the mirror for wounds, but there was nothing there. His athletic body was perfect.
Seeing himself in the mirror with his original body was much better. He was a handsome boy: 1.82 meters tall, 80 kg, almost no fat, well-defined muscles. He believed it was genetics. His jaw was firm, his nose large, Greek-style. His hair was shaved on the sides and longer on top, slightly spiky, thick, straight, and dark brown. His eyes were the same shade. He smiled slightly, happy with his appearance, showing off a white smile. Since he was little, he had always been one of the most handsome boys in school and had always known it.
Falling in love with Maeve was an easy process. She was the shyest girl in school, and her mother was very good friends with his father. So they met frequently, and things evolved naturally. He had never dated before, but he had been with other girls. For Maeve, he was the first in everything. Now, they were about to complete a year together next month.
— Kiel! Aren't you coming?
Her voice came from the bathroom, shy.
The boy snorted in front of the mirror. He looked at himself again and smiled slightly.
It's over...
...
Ezkiel came out of the shower dressed for school. Maeve was right behind, fixing her wet hair while looking for a jacket from some MMO game he had no idea which one. He only knew she preferred the Horde.
His parents were already at the coffee table. The tall, heavy, and strong man was getting coffee in his mustache. His mother, short, with her hair in a quick bun, was making pancakes and bacon.
— You two are going to be late if you don't eat soon! Daniel will take you!
Said Margareth, balancing in her high heels with a frying pan in her hand.
His father just snorted lightly and opened a yellowish smile from years of smoking. His dark brown hair was poorly combed back, with loose tufts on the sides.
— Did you two sleep well?
His calm and serene voice contrasted with his lumberjack appearance.
— Ezkiel had a nightmare! He woke up all scared!
Maeve stated before he could answer. The expression of guilt was sincere.
His father drank his coffee, looking at him with a mischievous smile.
— It was nothing... I'm fine!
Ezkiel sat down, putting a large piece of cheese in his mouth. Maeve sat next to him, while Margareth distributed pancakes.
— Ezkiel has never had nightmares before... Strange! — She paused and looked at Maeve. — Oh, your mother didn't answer her calls yesterday. Your father said he wanted to talk to you. Well, she must have her reasons.
Maeve lowered her head in silence. Ezkiel knew that her relationship with her father was troubled. He had been living in a big city for almost twelve years. Annual trips were all they had. Even so, the man always called, concerned about his children, in his own way.
— Thank you. I'll call him.
Maeve looked at Ezkiel, nervous, needing his company for the call. He just nodded, chewing on a pancake.
The boy was hungrier than usual. His body still ached horribly, but he pretended well, using only his left arm.
— Excited for the return to school? It's your last year! You have to be excited.
His father stumbled over his words. He had never been a scholar, but he supported his son. He owned a small fishing and hunting gear shop. At Ezkiel's age, he had met his wife while doing odd jobs on nearby farms; she was already a veterinarian.
— Yeah. I'm just tired and hungry!
Ezkiel devoured everything in front of him.
— I know how it is!
His father gave his son a mischievous smile while drinking coffee.
Margareth passed behind him and gave him a smack on the head with her elbow.
— No clowning around, Daniel!
— What? I didn't do anything! The boy's the one who tired himself out all night!
He laughed softly.
The woman shot him a death glare.
— It must be because of the nightmare!
Maeve, with her naive look, gave a false smile.
Daniel couldn't resist and laughed as loud as he could. Margareth slammed the pan on the stove as a warning, and, knowing his wife as he did, he stopped immediately. He stood up, grabbed his hat.
— Let's go, kids! I have a schedule, you have a schedule, and your mother has a schedule!
He was quickly fleeing the scolding he was about to get.
Ezkiel stood up quickly. He picked up his backpack from the floor, put it on his back, then picked up Maeve's with his left arm. The shock ran through his body, but he pretended to be fine, though he almost couldn't.
Damn fucking dream! It seems this Tortured talent is becoming real after all!
In that instant, the dream UI opened before him, just like in the dream, showing the details of the talent.
" Tortured "
A talent for those who take comfort in pain as an anchor to stay alive. For the only feeling that remains in a tortured person's life is the pain that keeps them sane.
Function: All pain inflicted makes you more resilient.
Ezkiel's hands began to tremble as he analyzed the tab. His feet stopped, the world blurred. His head spun on its axis, the nausea persisted. He couldn't think of a single sentence; only the words from the dream UI echoed in his skull.
The urge to faint was overpowering him. Still, he resisted the vertigo and despair. The torturous factor kept him in a state of absurd discomfort: his mind stopped processing, while his consciousness felt everything, clinging on with all its might to keep him active.
Ezkiel knew that if he tried, he could move his body, no matter the discomfort. But he didn't have the courage to use that lifeline. He accepted the despair as he heard his parents and Maeve shouting for him in the background. He didn't focus on his senses, because hearing them would only cause more anxiety. He just needed to calm down. And that was almost impossible after understanding that he might be going crazy, and that the dream world could be real.