CRIMSON OVERLORD - Season 3 Episode 39

The city of Shimmergarde was built amidst a large, rugged island and is truly a historic trade center. Its uniqueness is matched by the backdrop of a fuming volcano which have helped shape the city to what it is today.

The resources these volcanoes brought were of great importance, but they were also influential when it came to architectural designs as the vast majority of buildings incorporate shapes and colors of both the volcano and of lava.

The skyline is littered with elegant skyscrapers and they look astonishingly beautiful all together. Culture is rising in Shimmergarde and it has attracted a lot of attention. Many different cultures have left their mark not just on trade and relations, but also upon the city’s identity. What historically was a city of few cultures has grown into a multicultural hub and it’s this that unites the 4 million people to this day.

It’s this multicultural identity that has truly left its mark. Hundreds of bakeries, sandwich bars and diners offer a plethora of culinary choices and those who feel hungry for something else can enjoy dance, aerobics, tours or one of the many other recreational venues.

This is the city of Willow, your average woman, brown hair and blue eyes, she could have a normal life if not for that thing.

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Willow sighed as she sat upright. She stumbled to the bathroom and rubbed her bleary eyes. Her eyes were emphasized by the bags and dark circles underneath them. She’d had another nightmare, the same scene, same figure, same horrors. It was pretty much every night. Willow couldn’t figure out why, she was stressed, but working two jobs would do that to a person.

Thankfully it was the weekend. She could catch up on sleep, relax and maybe get some studying done. She moved over to the window, peeking out the curtain. It was cloudy and slightly breezy. Willow filled a glass of water, wondering why she felt so tired and weak. Hopefully she wasn’t getting sick.

Laying back down, she pulled the covers up with a sigh. Sleep was supposed to be restful and an escape from the real world, but the horrors that awaited her made sleeping dreadful.

Willow gasped in fear, her heart pounding hard. She looked down, expecting it to break through her chest and fall onto the floor. Movement was out of the question, her body was paralyzed with an unknown fear. The room was dim, shadowy and cold. The air was so thick with anger, sadness, loneliness and fear that she could taste it. Something was coming, warping itself from the shadows. Wisps of fog starting swirling around her, voices echoing.

“Memories”

Willow whispered to herself as the wisps swirled to and fro. Suddenly a cloud rose up, colors whirling around inside. Silver, blue, red and black. There was a voice, a voice that brought pain. The cloud cleared and a face appeared to match the voice. The pain that Willow felt struck like a knife, stabbing and slicing. She felt something warm, thick and wet drip down her chest. Horror appeared on her face as she looked down and saw blood seeping through her shirt.

Tears stung her eyes as she struggled to move. A cold, shadowy hand appeared, lifting her chin up until she was staring into the black, dead eyes of a young child. A young child who looked familiar. Willow opened her mouth to speak, but couldn’t through the pain. She tasted blood in her mouth and coughed.

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“It hurts, doesn’t it?” The child purred, an evil laugh echoed through the room.

“Why…are you making me…relive this? Who…are…you?” Willow gasped out, wishing she would just die or wake up already.

“Oh, you don’t recognize me? How sad.”

The child snarled, it’s ghostly hand reaching into her chest and clasping around her heart. Willow cried out in pain as cold, searing fire spread through her body and blood starting dripping through her skin.

“I’m you, Willow. I’m the little child that you decided to forget, that you decided to lock up and abandon. So, as revenge I’ll make you relive every time you lost. Every time you got left behind. Every time you got hurt.” The child smiled, cruel and twisted as the hand withdrew from Willow’s chest, holding her heart. Not her heart…the shadow of her heart. It was covered in scars, there were shards of metal embedded and there were fresh cuts. Fresh cuts that were gushing blood. Willow started shaking with sobs as she realized that the blood covering her body was from those cuts.

“You still don’t know how it felt. But this is the closest I can get to making you feel what I felt. Also, it’s fun.” Little Willow chuckled. She reached out and wiped the salt stains from Willow’s eyes.

“I’m…sorry. Have you…seen….the way….the world is?” Willow gasped out, straining for breath.

“Why….are….you…doing this?” She asked, wondering when Death would show up to release her from this pain. All she wanted to do was die. Willow had pushed through, pushed it down and ignored everything to keep going. But now this ghost of her inner child had decided to take revenge. All she was aware of was the blood, the tears and desire for death. Was she awake or dreaming? Willow didn’t know, or care. Who knew that one’s heart could hold so much blood?

“I’m not doing this Willow. You are. I’m you, remember? You’re torturing yourself because you forget who you really are.” The child grinned, the smile growing bigger, the blackness growing darker and spreading until it swallowed everything.

Willow awoke with a gasp, thrashing in her bed. Something was restraining her. She looked around, confused. Willow was in a dimly lit room, strapped to a hospital bed, surrounded by white walls. Suddenly she became aware of a huge pain in her chest.

Looking down, Willow saw that her shirt was soaked with blood. Her blood. She felt light though, dizzy even. She realized she was floating outside her body, her body that was alive and yet, dead. There was a clang and Willow felt a jerk, then suddenly she was back in that black, echoing room. Fear struck her like a lighting bolt as she realized that she was doomed. Doomed to forever haunt the inner recesses of her mind and heart, reliving her pain every day, never healing.

The last sound that the nurse heard Willow make was a strangled sob as tears leaked out from the closed eyelids.