5 – The Waking.

Never did Bart imagine that he would have the pleasure of seeing his own hand being burnt to the bone.

All he could remember was fainting. He could hear the sudden rush of footsteps in his direction as he hit the cold ground. His bag fell off his shoulders; there was the distinct wailing of sirens and hands lifting him up..

And then, for the first time in a while, he dreamed.

He dreamed he was standing on a field of black. From the way misshapen forms lay beneath his feet like scorched grass and flowers, the place was obviously a garden before being charred into oblivion. He checked the expanse before him. There was no one else around for miles.

But then he heard a creak behind his back. He slightly turned his head.

A gigantic gate between two soot-ridden pillars stood in the middle of the razed land, seemingly as aged as the landscape itself. Painted scarlet with black metal rods lined up in its center, rusting and seemingly brittle on its every hinge and corner, it felt like it would topple at the slightest passage of wind.

For some reason, Bart couldn't take his eyes off it. There was the haunting creak from the gate even though there was no wind or force making it budge.  His legs buckled yet never inched out of where it stood. The creaking grew louder, ringing in his ears and into his skull...

In a split second, all his thoughts turned into mind-splitting pain.

Bart dug his hands into his hair, fingers gripping at the sides of his head. He couldn't find the urge to  shout - even as he knew this pain was trying to bode something more than a migraine.

It.. felt like something was clawing its way out of his mind.

<NGAAAAA-HHH!!>

Bart felt his own breath drawing shorter. He struggled to stay on his feet. As his eyes fixated at the creaking gate, he saw it gently moving forward... then suddenly forced open by an unknown presence.

In an instant, the air turned foul. A sound akin to the bellowing of a beast blasted at his face. A voice, distorted and malevolent, spoke.

<̴̫̒̏̚S̴̥̤̩̑͗i̷̗̕ť̵͕ ̸̠̬̑͘ṭ̴̨̢̈́̉̕e̷̥̼̽̂̃n̵̡̤͌ͅȇ̴͕͆b̴̛͓̊̂r̶̖͒͜ͅa̴̜̲̤͒ś̵̠͈̆ ̵̡͋̊̃f̴̤͉͑̃e̴̖̕ŗ̵͇̈́̈́r̷̹̙̐̈́é̶̟̭͚̀̅ ̴̛̼̥̋̔m̵̡͒͐̚e̴͓̰͙͒̆̚t̷͖̻͛u̷͍͚͋s̸͍̓̾̊͜.̸̱̐͐ͅ>̴͕̘̿͋

̶͙̲͚́<̶͍͝S̵̮̦̀̋i̸͔̓t̶̞͖̣̓̓̓ ̸͙͐̚i̸̩̇̔͌n̷̺̣̫̿t̸͓̳̼̀̑e̶̠͙͉̽r̵̛̟ì̸͙̓͠o̷͇̼͊̕r̸̪̪̓́̓e̵̛͒͘͜m̵̙̞̄̾̅͜ ̴͋̀͘͜t̴̲̮͉̆͛̕e̴͓̗̔n̵͈̑ę̴̦̀̿b̷̯͑r̸̺͗̒í̶͖͖̫͑̚ś̵̯͊̍ ̶̥̃̿͜o̸̻̭̦͗̇r̴̟͉̱͠t̸͍̦̼͌͆̃ū̵͚̩̘m̶͈̦͆̒̎ͅ.̸̗̯͖̒̕͠>̴͈̖̹͠

̴͗ͅ<̵̡̏͐S̶̥̫͊̈̾ͅi̸̯͕̞̽t̴̩̃͑̊ ̷̘͗f̴̡͔̲̊ṳ̶̀͋ͅr̴̬̝̪̐̀o̵̰̼̓͊̎r̵̗͇̥̀.̸̘͆͋̑>̴̮̀͂

̷̮̄̋≮͙̲͂͋S̵͖̮͈͆̄̋í̴̲̳̠̓̊ṯ̵͝ ̶̤̣̈́u̴̢̫͐̒͌l̷̞̾̒͝u̶͖̺̎͜ľ̸̜a̵̧̓̇̇ẗ̵̗́͋̕e̵̡͍̝͋͝.̴̬͑̀͑>̵̣̟̈́

̷̢̳͉̑<̵̨̼̮̍S̵̝͋̎ì̵̛͐͜t̸̨͋ ̶̲̃ḯ̵͓͂̌d̶̡̛̛ ̴̯̈́̉͘ŝ̷̠͖c̷̙̒͘̕ḯ̷̹̈́r̸͚̝̊é̵͖͉,̸̯͛͛͂ ̸̭͚͕̅n̵̩͇͐o̶͇͈̒̈̉ņ̷͎̪͋͠ ̷̰͇̬̄͠e̸̢͗͊̑s̶̻͋t̸͎͝ ̸̻́̀͜m̴͍͎͋i̸̤͆s̷͇͊̓ë̸̘̣r̸̳͆̑̕ĩ̶͍̘̯͊̆c̶̗̘̒o̷͙͒̎̈́r̵̦̹̫͋ḓ̵̢̲̂i̷̲͆á̴̜͊͝ͅ.̵͕͖̒͛̌≯͔̰̯̓̀͠ ̷̢̝̿̽

̷̞̄͜<̷̦̟̰̿͛̕S̴͕͈͌̋ć̵̙͇̄i̶̧͚̖͋̓a̵̠͓͛n̴̦̒͗ț̵̛̞͓̾ ̷̜̥̣̈́̍́q̴̪̱̾̇̕u̶̢̜̰̐i̷̳̺̗͌̈d̷͙̈́̈͌ ̷̪̓̅f̴̪̔͊ḛ̶̳̫͆̎c̸̪̆̃i̴͖̿͗t̵̩̕ ̶̭̩̻̏̀m̶̘̙̓ḯ̴̜̺̖̇͌ḧ̸̡̭́̂͠i̵̯̥̻̇.̴̯̐͋͘>̴̲̑

̸͖͕́͜

Bart yelled, feeling a pang of pain race across his palm. There was an abrupt spark of hellish light on his hand that caught fire. He pulled his hand closer, expecting to see a burn -

-but what he saw instead gripped him in terror.

"What... IS THIS...?!"

Before he could even process what it meant, darkness choked everything around Bart.. and swallowed him right at the moment he screamed  -

-----------------------------------------

He didn't even realize he was already staring at the ceiling of the local hospital.

Spread-eagle on the bed of the ICU room, Bart was already in a patient's transparent-white robe, his left hand bandaged from the wrist to his fingers. He could hear the beeping of his vitals and those from beds next to him. The outside world greeted his ears with heavy rain.

An explicable calm washed over him.

A calm that thanked he had just been dreaming.

Bart slowly pulled himself up. He had yet to stop himself from shaking - the dream was still fresh in his head, after all. He quickly spotted the approach of medical officials and hid his hands underneath the blanket. The doctor beamed at him upon arrival.

"How are you, sir?" asked the man. Bart heaved his shoulders and breathed gently. "Better. I... fainted in the middle of the festival, didn't I?"

"Yes. Roughly 4 hours ago."

Bart twitched upon hearing the doctor's response. It barely felt like several minutes had passed since that near-death encounter and that dream. The doctor studied a clipboard in hand and wrote in passing as he inspected Bart. "We detected anemia and severe stress as prompt reason why you.. fainted all of the sudden. That.. may as well be the same reason why you've found yourself hallucinating."

"W.....What?"

"... have you forgotten? You were hallucinating that your left hand was on fire."

"... t...t.. that wasn't a dream!" Bart said at the top of his lungs. He raised his left hand in front of the doctor "M-My hand did catch fire! It happened during the Black Cross Festival!! I- I mean, w-why else would you wrap it up in bandage it like this??"

"Ah... we... decided to do that because you kept writhing about your hand. You kept flicking it around and grasping it like it really was on fire while you were unconscious, so we promptly applied numbing cream on it and bandaged it up for the time being. "

The doctor's voice was unfaltering - as one that obviously wasn't sugarcoating the facts.

"Then again, I wanted to express my concerns about that, Mr. Owens."

The doctor lifted pages from his clipboard and prepared to jot down notes. "That hand of yours... it never exhibited signs of catching fire in the first place. Witnesses said you just suddenly collapsed while the Parade of Floats was ongoing, screaming while holding your wrist. Was there any driving circumstance that made you think about fire? Perhaps seeing the lights from the floats triggered it."

Bart didn't know what to say. All he could do was shake his head. His bandaged hand weighed heavy on his lap.

How ... could that all be a hallucination?

Gazing at the hand that he visibly remembered was in flames several hours ago, Bart felt unconvinced. He turned to stare languidly at the world past the hospital window, reminiscing the moment when that lunar eclipse brought him a sense of otherworldly dread.

To him, that feeling of unearthly terror... was no hallucination at all.

-------------------------------------

4 hours after the Black Cross Festival Parade, a string of unprecedented events took place.

First was the incident of a young man collapsing and screaming in pain, claiming his hand caught fire from out of nowhere.

Then, the girl who saw her chest burst into flames.

Then, the young man who claimed eyes went ablaze.

Then, the man who believed his neck was wreathed in fire.

Approximately two hours after these events occured, the clear sky that heralded the lunar eclipse was replaced by dark clouds and a rainstorm - an event the weather forecasters of Eldridge never anticipated.

Thus, the Festival ended at a rather abrupt note.

".....that was the report you wanted to hear, right?"

A man whose head was hooded spoke towards the darkness of a hidden alleyway. His words were addressed towards an unknown individual. As he finished, the man fixed the collar of his polo shirt and faced the gleaming lights of Eldridge under heavy rain.

"Your wish will have to wait." He sneered at something he glanced behind him. "The gates.. have just been opened."

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NOTE: Yo! @JeielYozama here. What do you think about the current chapter? Will something happen to Bart after that horrible vision?  I don't know about you, but the trials are just about to come full circle. Hope you stick around for the next one, readers. Toodle-oo!