He stood at the centre of an empty space, his forehead beading with sweat as if he had just escaped from something frightening. That was when the ground shook and the space collapsed.
The ground under him broke off, until he found himself standing at the edge of a towering cliff. Bits of stone continuously breaking into the lava that had appeared down below.
The sudden transition had scared him witless, to the point that he almost fell over.
He sighed in relief, moving back a bit to the more stable side of the cliff. Suddenly, the ground started shaking and howls could be heard from all over. Multiple moldy arms began appearing out of nowhere, grabbing onto the edge of the cliff like it was climbing up out of nowhere.
He moved back, turning around to run away from the edge only to be stopped by more arms crawling up out of the ground reaching out for him.
The path out suddenly crumbled and fell into the lava below, stranding him on what seemed like an island.
He could only retreat back, with no way to avoid them. More arms reached out from the ground, racing out and grabbing his ankles and calves. He relentlessly shook them off, the arms using him to pull themselves anytime he tried to pull away.
Soon some of his attackers were fully revealed from the ground, he furrowed his brows at the sight.
Some were wearing lab coats, a company ID clipped on their pockets. Lonside Inc.
People wearing archeologist uniforms, others wearing strange clothes that didn't seem to be from their timeline and more from the Victorian era he watched in movies.
He didn't know who these people turned corpses were, but he swore that the more they tried to grab onto him, the more he thought they seemed eerily familiar.
Soon he was cornered with nowhere to go, the corpses latching onto him up to his waist. Their grip was unyielding and painful as their moldy fingers clawed into his skin.
"Sarva! Sarva! Sarva!", they began to chant out through their mouths, their grip getting tighter as they began pulling him down.
The ground underneath him became like quicksand, as they effortlessly pulled him down with them. He screamed as he tried to pull away, pushing and trying to use them as support to climb out but it was all for naught.
He tried to use the ground instead, but it all felt like quicksand. They continued to chorus those words as they grabbed onto his shoulders and head pulling him down completely.
The last thing to be heard were his screams and the continued chants of the corpses.
++++
*Ring… Ring…*
The old alarm clock on his nightstand had stopped his writhing in bed, he slowly opened his eyes to stare up at the familiar ceiling with faint cracks and some cartoon stickers his little brothers' had stuck on them.
He sat up and ran a hand up his face and through his now damp hair, his tank top in the same state as well. He yawned as he turned and his eyes lazily landed on the sweat stains he had left in his bed.
He gritted his teeth and got up, grumbling under his breath about how he'd have to spray his sheets out early again and put them back again. He slapped the alarm clock that had still been blaring into the hamper near his nightstand, the malfunctioning device quieting down immediately.
As he slowly took his sheets out, his mind couldn't help but go back to the nightmare he just woke up from. The nightmare he couldn't remember.
It had been like this for weeks now, after his seventeenth birthday. He'd wake up sore and sweaty every night, his family even heard him moaning or screaming out in his sleep.
He had thought about seeking psychological help, but then again he knew his family couldn't afford it so what the heck.
He tried all kinds of things he saw on the internet, like listening to calming music, lighting scented candles and incense, listening to sleep mantras, he even tried to hypnotize himself once but nothing seemed to be working for him.
All he could do was suck it up and wake up everyday like a wet dog, having to dry his sheets or wash them everyday.
He threw the sheets and his sweaty clothes in his hamper, changing his clothes and then carrying it out of his room down the narrow hallway, careful not to wake anyone up. The small four bedroom apartment was tiny compared to any other four bedroom apartment available, the living room, kitchen and dining room all in the same space.
There was one big bathroom that they all had to share, four decently sized bedrooms and a spacious balcony with a sit out and a hang dry space in the corner of it.
This is where his big family had called home for the past ten years now.
It was all dark, as it was merely four in the morning. He always got up early to deal with his sweaty things every weekday as he didn't want his mom to come into his room after school and notice this stuff. He didn't want to bother his family.
He walked to the washing machine in the kitchen area under the countertop, shoving his clothes and sheets from the hamper into the washer and putting some soap in. His eyes followed the laundry as they began their cycle, spinning round and round.
He looked away, turning to rest his back on the cupboard near the washing machine. He zoned out to the sound around him, lost in his thoughts not noticing the weird noise the machine was making.
The sound grew louder but he remained oblivious to it all, his mind focused on whatever he was thinking about.
"... Sarva…", as soon as he uttered those words, the glass of the washing machine cracked and blew up. He startled and quickly shielded his face and ducked away. The glass shattered everywhere as the laundry flew out.
He uncovered his face again, looking at the mess he had created, the tried to slowly get up but winced. He looked down at his arm to see several cuts on them from the glass.
He cursed under his breath, looking at the cuts. Just then, the lights flicked on surprising him and making him accidentally cut his toe on some glass. Blood soaking through his socks.
"What the… Alrick? Are you okay?", His dad walked into the room with a baseball bat in hand. When he saw it was just Alrick, he tensed down a bit and walked towards him.
"I'm fine dad… I just got some cuts, don't come closer. There's glass all over here", Alrick said as he carefully walked away from the danger zone and towards his dad.
His mom, who had been hiding in the hallway behind her husband earlier, saw that it was not as they thought it was and walked over. "Oh my God, Al what happened?", She asked as she gently took his arm and inspected his cuts.
She led him towards the couch and sat him down and quickly went to get the first aid kit, she was nimble on her feet despite being six months pregnant. As she tended to his cuts and wounds on his arms and toe, his dad cleaned up the damage in the kitchen.
Just as he inspected the washing machine, he noticed something odd. He reached into the now damaged washer through the cracked glass and pulled out something. It was Alrick's alarm clock!
Alrick, who had been watching his dad suddenly felt guilty, he was too distracted earlier and didn't notice the alarm clock he had knocked into the hamper earlier.
"I'm sorry dad, I'll find a way around it", he muttered to himself, wincing as his mom dabbed some ointment on his cuts.
His dad sighed, "Never mind that Alrick, what were you doing up this early? Washing clothes no less?"
Alrick didn't say anything and his dad just sighed and continued cleaning up.
"Does it hurt too much? I'm glad your siblings hadn't woken up. They might have gotten hurt as well", His mom began to mumble as she put a bandage on his toe.
He just stayed quiet as his mom rambled on, more focused on a way to fix the washer and also on the little detail from earlier.
"Sarva…"