Deep Sea Embers

Do you want to take a look at what the edge of your dream looks like while you are awake?

Duncan's words with a smile on his face sounded to Shirley like a low temptation coming from the dark and deep abyss. A shudder rose in her heart. She instinctively resisted this suggestion, but she couldn't help but feel it. An impulse——

In this nightmare that has tortured her for eleven years, outside this locked hut, on the street that she had never seen with her own eyes eleven years ago...what could be there?

She took a deep breath subconsciously and turned to look at the small window not far away.

A crimson hue as dim as dried blood filled the small window, preventing her from seeing the scene on the street. On that morning illuminated by the fire eleven years ago, she was never able to take a look out the window, so In this dream, the scene outside the window was hidden in the chaotic light and could not be clearly seen at all. Even the living room outside the room, she saw through the door, only a hazy darkness.

The dream reflects her own memory and cognition. Eleven years ago, she failed to escape from this cabin. Eleven years later, is it really possible for her to walk out of this room?

"Can people really walk around in their own dreams..." Shirley couldn't help but mutter to herself, "I don't know what's out there... could it be nothingness outside?"

"Dreams are a reflection of people's subconscious, and people's subconscious often remembers some 'details' that even they can't detect," Duncan's voice came from the direction of the door, "Maybe you were trapped in this room eleven years ago. inside, but the light and shadow outside the window, the sounds, and the things you remember through 'intuition' are all filled in your dreams. In these details, we may be able to glimpse some clues.

"Of course, the decision is yours. If you refuse, I will not continue to pry into your dreams - I will stay here. Don't worry, as long as I am still here, this nightmare will not continue. You can sleep peacefully and it will still happen tomorrow." There are clear mornings.”

Shirley bit her lip lightly, and then seemed to use a lot of strength to make up her mind: "I... want to go out and take a look."

"Okay," Duncan nodded, leaning aside to let the door open, "I'll go with you."

A subspace shadow, a mobile natural disaster, took the initiative to say that he wanted to be with him - this should have been a terrible invitation, but for some reason, Shirley suddenly relaxed this time.

It was as if a warm light suddenly appeared in this endless dark nightmare, allowing me to relax a little.

She felt that she must be crazy, and gradually became crazy while living with the evil god.

Duncan followed Shirley, and together they stepped through the wooden door of the small room and entered the living room of Shirley's childhood memories.

Ah Gou was also following them. The deep hound looked very nervous and was paying close attention to its surroundings. From time to time, it looked like it was listening attentively, paying attention to whether there was any unusual movement on the street.

Shirley was a little curious when she saw this: "Agou, what are you doing?"

"Reconnaissance," Agou said in a deep voice, "We are entering an unknown area in dreams... Going forward is an area that does not exist in your memory. Theoretically, things in front of it will become more and more inclined to your subconscious mind. imagination and strong emotions, and when fear is dominant, these imaginations and strong emotions tend to generate something...not so friendly."

Shirley was surprised: "Agou, do you even understand this?"

"I know a little bit," Agou shook his head, "I am also an orthodox deep demon after all..."

Duncan didn't pay attention to the conversation between Shirley and Agou. He was paying attention to whether there were any clues in the living room.

A kind of chaotic darkness enveloped the slightly shabby small hall, as if there was a lingering smoke filling the space. He saw the wooden shelves placed beside the wall, the tables and chairs on the side of the living room, and a An old-looking wall clock was hung on the wall, and the hands on the dial were blurry and twisted like shaking smoke, spinning around in meaningless circles.

A deep scratch could be seen on the floor in the center of the living room.

Those were the traces left by Agou when he broke in back then.

In addition, there were no blood stains, no corpses, and no signs of being burned by fire in the living room - the "fire" seemed to be limited to the streets outside, or it might simply be because in Shirley's subconscious, the fire never spread. Go inside the room.

They walked through the living room and came to the front door.

There was a big hole in this door, with only the door frame and a few broken pieces of wood still hanging on the door frame. It was obviously the work of the Deep Hound.

Beyond, there were streets engulfed by fire.

Shirley suddenly stopped.

She had come this far, but suddenly she realized what she was really afraid of and resisted.

"Shirley?" Agou noticed Shirley's hesitation and looked up curiously.

Shirley bit her lip tightly, as if she didn't hear Agou's words. She stared at the street outside the gate, looking at the mist filled with distorted red light, feeling every cell and nerve in her body. All tense, withdrawn, fearful.

She seemed to see her parents who never returned after leaving the house. When she saw them lying in front of the house, she didn't even dare to imagine what it would be like, or what would happen if she stepped out.

Then, she heard the soft jingle of chains.

Agou took the initiative to walk forward, looked towards the street, and then took his head back.

"Shirley, it's okay. There's nothing scary outside. If there is, I can't see it."

Shirley looked at the hollow eyes of the Deep Hound with some surprise. She pursed her lips and said, "Thank you."

Then she stepped out of her home eleven years ago.

The streets were filled with a layer of mist. In the thin, dark red mist, you could vaguely see the outlines of houses and streetlights, as well as the twisted and undulating road surface.

The buildings in the distance were shaking abnormally in the mist. They had been burned into frames in the fire, showing dark or dark red tones, with their edges trembling like shapeless flames, and crackling from time to time. The crackling sound came from nowhere, as if the fire was still spreading out of sight.

Tiny sparks, dust, and ashes floated in the air, mixed with a pungent smell.

Duncan frowned slightly.

The fire on the street has been extinguished, leaving only traces of burning. The ubiquitous ashes and the suspicious molten piles at the corners of the street prove the real existence of the fire.

But he saw no clues that it might be related to solar debris.

But after thinking about it, this seems normal - after all, this is just Shirley's dream, a stage woven together by her memory, cognition and imagination, rather than really bringing everything back to eleven years ago.

With this thought, he followed Shirley slowly through the street that had been burned by the fire.

Suddenly, his steps stopped.

Shirley turned back in surprise: "Mr. Duncan?"

Duncan frowned and waved his hands, listening to what was going on around him.

Just now, he seemed to hear a weak voice whispering something in his ear.

He distinguished it carefully for a long time, then suddenly walked towards a pile of ashes on the side of the road.

It was a pile of twisted black ashes, mixed with some charred fragments that seemed to have not been burned out. There were even sparks burning quietly next to the ashes. If you distinguish them carefully, you can vaguely see that the ashes vaguely present a curled up figure. ……"people".

Duncan stared at the ashes for a long time, then slowly bent down and listened -

"...I...don't want to die..."

The ashes whispered softly.

Duncan opened his eyes slightly.

Shirley, who was following closely behind him, also heard the murmur, and the girl's reaction was more straightforward:

"What the fuck is this?!"

Duncan turned his head slightly, and Shirley quickly adjusted her words: "Well, I mean this is so scary..."

"...I still like how straightforward you were just now," Duncan's mouth trembled. In fact, he was also startled by the murmur of Ashes, but was completely covered up by Shirley's yelp, and then, he His eyes fell on more piles of ashes on the street.

The soft, continuous and overlapping murmurs, accompanied by the ashes and sparks floating on the street, reached his and Shirley's ears.

"I don't want to die..." "Help..." "...go home..." "Someone help..."

A creepy feeling spread in her heart, and Shirley subconsciously leaned closer to Agou, feeling her muscles tense up.

She dared to wield a demon hound to fight the cultists, but she lacked resistance to this purely weird evil.

What's more, this is her own nightmare - the most difficult thing for people to fight is always the terror in their own hearts.

But at this moment, she suddenly became confused:

Is this really my nightmare?

Is this really just a dream? In this "dream edge" that is far away from her own memory and cognition, why are there these "crys for help" that she should not have been exposed to and could not imagine?

Shirley looked at Duncan subconsciously, but saw that the latter was also turning his gaze, his deep eyes full of scrutiny and thinking.

"This may not just be a dream."

Duncan said in a deep voice.