Untouchable by Marii Solaria

Chapter 37 – The Nightmare

“You think that I can’t see right through your eyes. Scared to death to face reality. No one seems to hear your hidden cries. You’re left to face yourself alone.” – Evanescence, Where Will You Go

Neron

“Why is it so cold?

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05:00

Heavy rain cascades down my face, drenching my body from head to toe. My clothes cling onto my flesh like a second skin with the thieving icy wind zapping the warmth from my body. Goosebumps littered my once glistening tan skin, my hands not generating warmth when I rubbed them together. Desperately.

Everywhere I looked, everywhere I turned, I saw nothing but grey. Thunder roared above like a lion announcing its claim to the crown, shaking the foundation underneath my feet. The pitter–patter of the fallen water echoed through the air, blocking out any secondary noise that didn’t get the chance to be heard.

Why am I here?

I tried to speak, but my l*ps couldn’t move as if they’re cemented together. With every grunt I made to pry open my l*ps, the effort is futile. Someone must have cast a spell to prevent me from speaking. My frustration. grew. Why? What did I do to deserve my voice to be taken away? My body moves on its own accord, walking through the valley of grey with no sense of direction. Everything looks the same to me from all angles.

I could be walking around in circles, for all I knew.

But then I heard it. The only sound that pushed through the volume saturation of the rain, footsteps. The footsteps sounded meticulous, like someone taking great care to be certain that I could hear them. I followed. the echoing sound to see who else or what else is stuck in this void with me. All contact with people I knew was non–existent, my mind–links blocked by an impenetrable wall that proved too formidable for me.

I ran. I didn’t know how long I ran for. The lactic acid burned in my legs, demanding me to stop, but I disobeyed. I pushed through the pain, desperate to know who the mysterious footsteps belonged to. My desperation poked at my psyche, holding many questions and not enough answers. I needed those answers as to why I was trapped in this void in the first place.

“Why do you feel guilty, Neron? Since when does an Alpha like you feel guilty about anything?”

I skidded to a stop. That voice…

you think you

to the core. The words, ignited by hatred and sadness, turned me to the crumbling ember underneath its inferno. It directs the questions at me, questioning my feelings and drive. The voice chilled me, but it also planted a deep seed of warmth in

means to

“Halima?”

you called me by my name. I

me, commanding the pathway of rain to clear. In front of me

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– The

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the dirty dress I last saw her in. She was close enough to me that I could touch her. My fingertips ached to capture the fated sparks of our bond. Her lifeless brown skin was bruised, large and sing4:57 in various stages of healing, proudly showing themselves

not happy. The look she gave me had the power to slaughter me. The brown in her eyes void of life but filled with

Sadness.

Hatred.

Vengeance.

Pain.

a raging inferno, her emotions pulling me down to its depths. Tentacles of our broken bond coiled

out. “P–Please.

me, Alpha.” The venom spewed on her last word, acid dripping like the fangs of a deadly cobra. “Nothing would erase what you’ve

you. Y–You’re right. I hurt you but understand I didn’t know!

know-”

humanly possible. “You didn’t care. The word of a slave was nothing to the word of the Alpha. You assigned me the guilt before you gave me the chance to speak! You see these bruises?” She raised her arms, turning them as more colored her skin. “They are an accumulation of the years you battered me. Used me as your punching bag.

my body holds a distinct memory of your rage, your malevolent smiles, your hatred, and your callousness. You’re a talented artist, Neron. Always have been, even when we were kids. Only this time, my body was your canvas and these bruises are your art. When I healed, you

in a sick heap of red. Her eyes, surrounded with dark bruises, glare at me once again, freezing me in my spot. “Blue, black, yellow, and green. The colors of the Alpha’s rage. But let’s not forget the red. The endless blood I shed under you and your family. The blood I shed didn’t compare to the lives of your mother and sister, did it? No, I needed to shed more to compensate for their blood sinking into nature’s soils. An eye for an eye, you’d like to say. Blood likes to flow and regenerate, and I held limitless amounts of it. Not a day goes by where I didn’t bleed by an open wound you or your father caused. Or anyone else who considered me guilty without giving me a fair trial. I was

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ch*ek. The touch is empty of love and warmth. It was…nothing. Her expression held no emotion. Like I was looking into an immobile dp4:54 Only her eyes conveyed all the emotions she wanted me to feel. I wanted nothing more than to get on my knees and repent all the sins I’ve committed, to

was. She was right. There was nothing I could do to mend the hurt I’ve caused her. My hands were stained with her blood and marred by her suffering. I caused my

for all the wrongs I dealt her with. The