Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
The sound was the first thing he heard, slow, steady, echoing somewhere in the dark.
Julian's head throbbed. His chest burned when he tried to breathe.
The air was thick… heavy… wrong. Like breathing through water.
He forced his eyes open.
Nothing.
Only black.
Darkness.
A slow panic stirred in his gut. He raised his hand — or tried to. His arm trembled, slick with something warm. The metallic scent hit him next.
Blood.
He blinked, disoriented. The last thing he remembered…
A white room.
A beeping machine.
The weight of his body sinking into a hospital bed—
Then, nothing.
"Did I die?"
"Is this hell?"
He was lying in cold stone, drenched in his own blood, with the taste of iron in his mouth.
"Where the fuck am I?"
His voice seemed different, like it wasn't his.
He scanned the area, trying to make up where he was but it was just all darkness.
Thats when he heard it.
A screech fractured the stillness — a trembling cry, distorted.
The sound not human.
Not from any animal he knew.
He froze.
The air carried a foul stench — wet fur, rot, and hunger.
His heart pounded.
Instinct told him to move.
Pain told him not to.
He pushed himself up, one arm trembling. His hand brushed against something — a hilt.
Something solid and metal.
A sword lay beside him. Old. Chipped. The handle slick with dried blood.
He gripped it anyway.
Every muscle screamed. His ribs grated when he moved.
Then ...
He heard it again. The screeching scream piercing through his ears.Then heavy breathing followed.
Like paintings a beast would make.
There — again. That breath. Closer this time.The sound of claws dragging across stone.
He couldn't see it, but he knew.
He wasn't alone.
He staggered to his feet, using the sword for balance.
The darkness felt alive — like it wanted to swallow him.
He raised the sword, point shaking.
"Who's there?"
His voice cracked, swallowed by the dark.
Something lunged.
He swung — blindly — but hit only air.
A wet, tearing sound followed. Then pain. A sudden, hot pain that ripped across his abdomen.
He stumbled back.
Something had slashed him open.
Blood poured out of him like overflowing water.
He placed his hand on the wound only to feel something soft and strangely shaped.
It was his organs.
His guts spilling out if him.
He fell, coughing blood.
The pain unbearable.
His vision blurred. His own heartbeat thundered in his ears until it began to fade.
He screamed until his throat broke.
Coughing out more blood.
He lay on the ground.
Hopeless.
He felt his life slipping away yet once again.
Once in a hospital from cancer and now in this hellhole, whatever this place is.
As the cold crept in, his mind cracked with something strange —
A memory that wasn't his.
He saw faces laughing as he fell into the darkness.
No.
Pushed.
They pushed him after declaring him useless.
Condemning him.
His vision flickered.
'This isn't my memory' Julian thought.
His mind snapped into the present.
Bleeding, guts spilling out and coughing out blood.
His chest rose once. Twice. Shuddering.
He tried to breathe in, but the air wouldn't come.
He tried to speak, but no sound left his mouth.
Darkness spread across his vision like ink, swallowing the edges.
The sword slipped from his grasp.
And then — nothing.
It was Death.
.
.
.
.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
The sound again.
The same one that greeted him before death.
Julian's eyes snapped open.
Darkness — familiar now, almost repeating itself.
Pain thrummed under his skin, but duller. His body ached, slick with blood—his blood.
He pressed a trembling hand to his stomach.
No wound.
His breath hitched. The air was still thick… heavy… wrong.
But it moved through his lungs now.
"...How am I alive?"
He stared down at his hands — pale, trembling — then clenched them. They responded, sluggish but alive.
The metallic taste still lingered on his tongue. He remembered choking on that taste.
The silence around him felt expectant, like the world itself was holding its breath.
Then he heared it again.
A screeching scream that broke the silence.
A trembling cry, distorted.
"Fuck!!"
This was all too familiar.
Julian pushed himself up, his hand brushing against something metal.
The sword.
He picked it.
Then —the pantings.
Huge pantings were heard from the darkness.
Julian tightened the grip on the sword.
Squinting his eyes, trying to get better vision.
The pantings came closer.
Then sound of claws dragging against stone.
Then something lunged at him.
He didn't think. He just moved.
Instinct — raw, blind — tore through the fog in his mind. His body twisted sideways just as a shadow cleaved through where he'd been.
Wind rushed past his ear, followed by the sound of claws raking stone. Sparks burst in the dark.
Julian hit the ground hard, shoulder first. Pain flared white-hot up his arm, but he didn't stop.
He rolled—scraping, gasping—until his back slammed against something hard.
The wall.
His heartbeat drowned out everything.
He raised the sword in front of him, both hands shaking. His breath came in ragged bursts.
The creature snarled—a wet, broken sound. He still couldn't see it, only the glint of its eyes. Yellow. Low to the ground. Watching.
Julian swallowed hard, forcing his voice out, barely a whisper.
"Stay back..."
It didnt listen.
Julian forced himself to stand. He shifted his stance.
Raising the chipped blade. His arms still trembling.
The air shifted.
The creature moved.
Julian saw only motion, a blur of black and bone.
He swung.
The sword met something—flesh?—a jarring impact that sent pain shooting up his wrist. A hiss followed, sharp and furious.
He'd hit it.
But then—something slammed into his chest.
The force tore the breath from his lungs. He flew backward, spine cracking against stone. His sword clattered out of reach.
He gasped, vision spinning, head ringing. The world tilted sideways, darkness warping at the edges.
Then came the weight.
A crushing, suffocating pressure pinning him down.
He felt hot breath on his neck. The stench of rot. The scrape of claws digging into his ribs.
He tried to push back, but his limbs wouldn't move.
The creature's mouth opened.
He heard it—wet, hungry.
Julian screamed as teeth sank into him.
Tearing him apart bits by bits.
Blood splatted everywhere.
He could feel the pain of every bite as the creature tore him apart.
He screamed and cried.
Cry of pain. Unbearable pain.
The creature didn't stop.
Then — again
Death.
But before the darkness took him completely, something flickered.
A flash behind his eyes.
— a memory not his yet familiar.
The faces from before sneering at him.
Looking at him with disgust.
"We don't need you anymore, Eldric"
Those were the words spoken from one of them.
Then—
.
.
.
.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
That sound again.
Julian's eyes flung open and he shot upright.
He screamed, terrified.
The pain of being torn apart still eched in his mind.
His hand searched his chest.
No wounds
No cuts.
"How?"
He looked around.
Nothing.
Only black.
Darkness.
The same as before.
Beside him. The chipped sword.
Exactly like before.
He lifted himself up.
Panic filled Julian as realization set in.
He was stuck in some kind of loop.
And death awaited him.