Chapter 46
Grace walked through the dark building, ceilings made of patterned glass designed to let in the sun vaulted high above. Except the sky was covered in clouds so thick no light could penetrate.
She knew this was a dream. And knew that it was also more than just a dream.
So, she moved cautiously past wide archways. Through each she could make out a different location. The school hallway. The river bank. An abandoned industrial building. Scenes from her webcomic.
This place struck her as familiar, but she couldn’t place it. The fog of the dream kept the knowledge just out of reach. The edges of everything felt too sharp, like they were outlined too harshly. It was offset by the blur of colors filling in all the muted spaces.
Grace arrived at what had to be the center of the building. The glass paned ceiling soared thirty feet above. And in the center of the space sat a large, empty fountain.
Despite the warning bells screaming at her to keep away, Grace drew forward, reaching toward the dull blue mosaic inside.
The moment her fingers touched the cold tiles, water rushed from the spouts, bubbling up from the drains, seeping from the sides, until it flowed over the edge to splash around her feet.
And the scenery around her crackled like static on a television, suddenly becoming the shore next to a pounding river.
She tried to jump back, but in the blink of an eye, the water had reached her ankles. It held her in place, like cold hands gripping her legs.
“Don’t leave yet.” The voice made the small hairs on the back of Grace’s neck stand on end. She turned to see Habaek standing feet away from her, the water lapping against him playfully.
He now wore the new face that Grace had drawn for him. And though it was averagely handsome, it was set and angry.
“It worked,” she breathed.
His eyes narrowed and the water splashed against her with his agitation, and she knew that had been the wrong thing to say. “You’ve made a grave mistake, going against me like this.”
When Habaek moved, the water seemed to flow with him, not splashing up against the suit he wore. White. The color of death in Korea.
“This is just a dream.” Grace’s voice shook despite her best efforts. “This isn’t real.”
Habaek’s deep laugh reverberated throughout the space. “That’s the problem with mortals these days. They forget the power of dreams. Long have gods and demons used them.”
Grace lifted her chin defiantly, hoping he could not hurt her here. “What do you want from me?”
Habaek’s eyes sharpened with irritation, and the scenery crackled again. For a moment she was back in the building beside the old fountain. “You might think you’ve trapped me in this form, but you’ve just freed me.”
Grace shook her head, opening her mouth to rebut him. But instead of words, water flowed from her lips.
The more she sputtered, trying to stem the flow, the more water poured out of her. It was filling her. Drowning her from the inside out.
She fell to her knees, clawing at her chest as the water rose, gripping her limbs. She struggled against it.
Wake up! Wake up! she screamed silently to herself, over and over.
Until she shot up in bed, sheets twisted around her legs. And though she was only soaked in sweat instead of water, she knew the dream had been real.