However, as I took a step back and observed William’s dream, one strange thing stood out.
A person’s dream should normally be chaotic.
Some days, the dog he raised could speak like a human, and other days, the pillow he hugged in sleep would suddenly spring to life, slapping his cheek with its zipper, shouting, “I can’t breathe, so stop pushing down!” On some days, a sorcerer capybara group would be flying in the sky, battling a bipedal platypus with martial arts moves.
Dreams should be filled with bizarre things that can’t just be defined as “this is how dreams work.”
That was what was normal.
Yet, all of William’s dreams were tied to the existence of a “girl.”
No matter how deeply the scars remained in his unconscious, it was very rare for one theme to persist in such an obsessive manner. Even if it was significantly ingrained in the subconscious, a person’s brain always focuses on different things at different times, processing varying information.
Dreams are not just a projection of the unconscious but also occur during the process of information processing.
“Looks like the attack has already begun.”
Jinseong realized that this was an artificial manipulation.
The shaman holding a grudge against William had been steadily attacking even before the prophecy came to fruition.
Persistently digging into his trauma and weakening his mental strength.
“Shaking the mind and inserting a ghost into the dream… it’s a method usually used by a necromancer who deals primarily with evil spirits.”
Evil spirits, before entering a person’s body, typically torment the mind in various ways to prevent proper resistance. In this process, they creatively strip away the person’s mental fortitude, allowing the necromancer to deepen their understanding of handling spirits.
In other words, this manipulator seemed to have a good understanding of evil spirits.
“Hmm. They have understanding but haven’t deviated from the basics. Instead of using outlandish methods, they stick to the fundamentals. While fundamental techniques are indeed the most efficient… Hmm, are they someone who prioritizes fundamental techniques or simply someone who’s not gone beyond that?”
However, having understanding doesn’t necessarily mean having skill.
The shaman’s methods attacking William were faithful to the basics, yet they didn’t meet Jinseong’s expectations.
It was something closer to the usual, far from the “powerful necromancer’s curse method” that Jinseong had hoped for.
“Considering they used a curse, could it be that they don’t wish to take unnecessary risks?”
*
Clang—Splat.
Clang—Splat.
A sound reverberated.
It was a sound felt not in the ears but in the head.
A sound seemingly resonating from brain to ear, sending vibrations throughout the body as one lay on the ground, trembling. When one closed their eyes, it felt as though someone whispered words beyond the eyelids.
The darkness seemed to whip into the mouth, howling, while the body shook this way and that, the very space swaying violently like a ride in an amusement park, trying to torture the senses.
Clang—Splat.
A sharp and large noise spread like a whip lashing across a water puddle.
Clang—Splat.
The sound of droplets splattering everywhere, the water creating ripples as it moved here and there; waves arose from the center of the splashing sound.
All those noises were vividly reaching William’s body.
The splashing sounds and the water droplets hitting the ground, the horrifying fear of being tossed around in a small boat on a raging sea, as if he was inside a ship’s cabin, constantly flipping and shaking.
Amidst all that bizarre sensation, William thought.
“Fuck.”
Here we go again.
As he thought this, annoyance bubbled up inside him.
“Why the hell does this damned nightmare keep repeating?”
Clang—Splat.
That damned splashing sound.
Whenever that sound began, nightmares always followed.
“Clang, clang, clang. That damned Clang—Splat. It’s not even the sound of smacking a woman’s butt, so why does it keep popping up like this?”
When that splashing sound first echoed, William had been terrified by the thought, “Some damn bastard is stripping me of my ability to move and smacking my butt!”
Coincidentally, the first day he heard that sound was a day he had drunkenly passed out after consuming high-proof alcohol, and in addition, every one of the models he had tried to charm had brought with them gay friends, which only heightened his panic.
Nightmare?
Sure, he had them.
But the fear stemming from the thought, “What if I wake up to find a naked man beside me?” was far stronger, leading William to wake up drenched in cold sweat, terrified of a possibility even more nightmarish than the nightmare itself.
When he finally awoke, to his great relief, he saw that no one was beside him, and his clothes, which he had worn to bed, were still neatly in order.
He shouted curses, smashing things in his room in frustration, blocking the models he had tried so hard to impress. So horrific was the possibility that had briefly crossed his mind, that he swore off alcohol for a while, turning to beer over time, forsaking the high-proof drinks altogether.
Yet, despite what William considered a “great effort,” that damned splashing sound continued.
No matter if he closed his eyes and tried to sleep, that sound always echoed in his ears, and even when he fainted from the effects of alcohol, it rang clear. Furthermore, despite the noise being so loud, rather than waking up, it felt like he sank deeper into a slumber, always drawn into a deep sleep where a nightmare awaited at the end.
Nightmare.
A terrible nightmare.
As if to dig into the trauma of William’s past, the girl named “Mary,” who he was close with during his childhood, appeared. Moreover, just like a calm movie, the memories would be beautiful, yet they would inevitably end with him seeing her bloated corpse, just like the girl he’d witnessed in his childhood.
Clang—Splat.
“Fucking Arsehole!”
The sound vibrated through his body and shook his mind.
The noise of splashing water echoed, like waves crashing and bursting forth.
William thought once again that a nightmare awaited him and cursed it all.
“Did I see some damned awful prophecy? Why do I keep having so many nightmares?”
Surprisingly, William didn’t think this was an attack from someone.
He simply thought he was having more nightmares than usual.
“Damned. I thought things had gotten a bit better lately.”
For someone else, the situation would be justifiable to say, “How foolish can one be to not notice they’re continuously having nightmares?” but for William, this had become part of his daily life.
Since childhood, when he witnessed the girl morph into a bloated corpse, nightmares had been William’s reality.
Each time he fell asleep, visions of the girl’s face and bizarre sculptures haunted him.
Especially right after the incident, he had dreams involving that girl and “The Christmas” for weeks on end, and even after therapy, those dreams would pop up unexpectedly as though reminding him not to forget.
For William, dreams of that girl and “The Christmas” were nothing unusual; they were part of his life, a natural phenomenon.
Thus, he considered his current dream as just an extension of that.
However, there was something different this time; it was that damned splashing sound…
“Tsk. That splashing sound is more irritating than the nightmare.”
William brushed it off as nothing significant.
Just a progression of nightmares.
Just something meant to irritate him before plunging into a nightmare.
That was all he thought.
Clang—Splat.
Clang—Splat.
Thus, that splashing sound became another part of William’s daily life.
The sound became a byproduct of his “shitty life,” akin to the chime of a bell when one enters a shop.
Unbeknownst to him, that splashing sound began to grow closer, and the darkness shook more violently with each passing day.
Clang—Splat.
Clang—Splat.
Boom—Crash.
And so calamity fully took form and approached William.
Clang—Splat.
『…Red body, red cheeks, red head, red crest, red belly, red back. White yet stained crimson with blood, teeth soaked in blood that flows from the corpse, throat forever wet with blood, belly filled with blood, splashes of blood as the tail sways, a sea drenched in red. The barbaric punishment that emerges while hugging the blood flowing along the stripes!』
William’s optimistic nature was rather lazy.
『Not a single piece of meat can be eaten, for the reason is that the meat itself is soaked in blood, emitting an awful bloody odor, and because each drop of that blood is filled with the grudge of eaten humans, acting as poison. The existence itself is a curse and calamity, oh, Havales! Havales! Calamity of blood! Oh calamity filled with endless evil! Reveal yourself with a humongous bubble and ominous wail! Wave your red crest and break the nest with your ominous storm!』
If William had noticed the strangeness of the splashing sound and sought advice from a shaman, he might have realized he was being cursed and would not have exposed himself so vulnerably.
『Oh whale with a red crest, swim through the sea of dreams and raise waves to smash the comfortable ship of dreams! As the grotesque figure had transformed, swim with the wicked power of magic, break the boundaries between reality and consciousness with the fairy’s curse and chase down that which must be torn apart! Someone has dared to enter your domain, so swim the sea of dreams and rip them to pieces with endless malice! Raise the waves, overturn the ship, and break the body to feed the whales with that meat and flesh to gather the blood of infinite malice!』
Clang—Splat.
Boom!
『Punish! Smash! Tear to pieces! Collapse the ship and drag out the people to shred them! Throw in the whale brought along through the broken gap!』
