Realm Lord

Aziel gripped tightly on the cold metal handle, his fingers white with pressure as he twisted it with desperate haste. The knob was icy against his sweaty palm, sending an unwelcome chill up his arm. It gave way and twisted with no resistance—a small mercy in this nightmare—and a quick, shaky breath of relief escaped Aziel’s parched lips as he hurried to open the door.

The hinges creaked, a sound that seemed unnaturally loud in the suffocating silence of the void. The door swung open with a force born of pure adrenaline, and Aziel charged inside. His heart hammered against his ribcage like a terrified animal seeking escape, each thunderous beat echoing in his ears as he passed the threshold into the next room. The presence of the monster loomed behind him—he could almost feel its breath on his neck still, cold and rancid.

With a strangled cry caught in his throat, Aziel panickily slammed the door shut. The resulting bang reverberated through this new sanctuary, the sound waves bouncing off walls and returning to his ringing ears. His trembling body sagged with exhaustion as he let his forehead rest against the door he’d just closed, the wood cool against his feverish skin.

He panted heavily, each breath burning his lungs as he struggled to replenish his oxygen-starved body. His chest heaved with the effort, and he closed his eyes, focusing solely on the rhythm of his breathing—in, out, in, out—trying desperately to lower his exploding heart rate and quiet the rushing blood in his veins.

Minutes passed, or perhaps only seconds. Finally, when his breathing had steadied enough that he no longer felt like he might collapse, Aziel felt calm enough to take stock of his surroundings. He peeled his sweat-dampened forehead from the door and turned around to examine the new room he found himself in.

To his surprise it was a bathroom. The floor was made of polished marble tiles, white with delicate gray veining that reminded him of frost on winter windows. A toilet sat in the far corner, porcelain under the dim candle light, and a counter with a sink stood to his right, its surface spotless and reflective.

Aziel turned toward the counter and rested his weight against it for a moment, his legs still quivering from exertion. His knuckles blanched as he gripped the edge of the cold stone, still trying to focus his breathing and collect his scattered thoughts.

’T-that was fucking insane,’ he thought, the mental words staggering just as his physical form had moments before.

Slowly, Aziel raised his head to look at the mirror in front of him, mounted above the sink in a simple chrome frame. He grimaced at his less-than-ideal appearance reflected back at him. His blue hair, had grown out longer than he’d like, now reaching his mid-neck. It was disheveled and matted, covered in dirt and knots that would take hours to untangle. The rest of him looked no better— dark circles beneath bloodshot eyes, skin pale and clammy.

’God, I need a shower...’ The thought was almost comical given his situation. A hysterical giggle threatened to bubble up from his chest, but he suppressed it, afraid that once he started laughing, he might never stop.

He stared at himself a bit longer, cataloging the changes that fear and exhaustion had wrought on his once-familiar features. But then something else caught his eye in the mirror—something that didn’t belong. A black smudge, small as a penny, marred the otherwise pristine reflective surface. It was positioned just over the reflection of his left shoulder, as if something dark hovered behind him.

For some reason, it was like the spot demanded Aziel’s attention, pulling his gaze toward it with an almost magnetic force. Aziel squinted hard, focusing on it with growing unease creeping up his spine.