"This is not a dream," Erwin repeated for the tenth time, circling on the same spot he found himself in the snowy forest.
His voice had long gone through different stages of grief.
"But it makes no sense?" "No, what I see is reality, how could it make no sense?" "But it does not!"
Questions littered his mind.
But his body still acted on its own, trying to warm itself, eyes searching for a spot to escape, ears open for threat or help.
His fingers numbed, nose turned red like a magical reindeer from the windburns of the winter-striken forest.
"I am not in a position where I can afford to question my situation." He told himself, trying to reassure his confused self.
Erwin took a deep breath, each second burning his lungs, and surveyed his surroundings.
"Giant trees densely scattered across the uneven forest floor. I don't know this species."
"The ground is half-frozen, not muddy, but slippery. Snow hides all vegetation."
"The wind is strong and cold, but the weather is clear. For now, at least."
His brain processed every minute detail his eyes caught.
"Now, what do I have on me?"
He patted down his jacket, his hands moving through all the pockets.
"My pocket knife, lighter, half a pack of cigarettes, some emergency medication, wallet."
His phone was missing.
"Damn it."
Erwin kicked the snow under his feet. "Please, be here." And repeated the act until he lost his breath.
Only to crouch down, search for it.
"Only dead grass and mud…"
He had no time to complain, he needed to find shelter and do it fast.
So he grabbed a couple of rocks, put them where he found himself, and marched through the snow. Snow crunched with each step, and a small cloud of mist formed before his face with every breath.
Every once in a while, he pulled his hands before his breath to give them some warmth before he quickly put them in his pockets.
It didn't help as much as he had hoped.
But he kept walking, reaching deeper into the forest.
"At least the trees cut the wind."
Deeper and deeper he went into the forest.
Soon enough, he stumbled on something promising. A small hill, covered in snow and moss, with a cave on its side.
It even had a small, half-circular opening with some small bushes and moss clumps peeking from the snow before it.
Erwin slowly made his way into the cave. Painkillers had started to give up on him, his leg ached, like in the morning, followed by a headache.
He gritted his teeth and ignored it.
Once near the cave's entrance, Erwin crouched down, smelling the ground beneath, looking for marks.
"No smell, no signs of animal activity."
He slowly made his way inside. The cave was deep, leading into a single, circular room, protected from the elements and warmer than outside.
Once deep inside, Erwin used his lighter, taking a tour around the cave's edges.
It wasn't to look for an item or animal.
"There is plenty of oxygen inside." Erwin put the lighter back in his pocket, grabbing it with one hand to savor what warmth remained on it.
As he did, he limped towards a wall, gave his back to it.
"Just… just need a moment's rest."
He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. "The pain. Damned pain."
It hurt even to stand, but he was afraid.
Afraid to fall and not get back up.
"Need some warmth. A fire, even a small one, to last me for a short break."
His eyes glided to the entrance of the cave. "There were dead bushes just outside, they should suffice as fuel."
With his pocket knife in hand, he stepped outside, feeling the change in temperature on his first step.
But he had work to do, and thankfully, a tool to do it.
His knife had a well-maintained blade, half straight, and half serrated.
Using the serrated part, he sawed the stem. It took some effort, but once cut halfway through, Erwin easily snapped the remaining body and removed the wood.
The first bush was near the cave, so he just threw it at the entrance and moved to the second, repeating the act.
His body warmed a little more with the labor.
It wasn't enough to fend off the sharp cold, but it slowed its grasp.
Once he decided he had gathered enough wood to last him till the next morning, Erwin turned back to the cave, dragging the bushes with him.
"Wouldn't last me the whole night, but should warm the place to a liveable temperature."
He made fire and circled with rocks he had gathered around the cave.
They weren't just for marking. Stones retained heat and warmed the surroundings after the fire died.
And before the sparkling fire, Erwin fell asleep to the quiet night.
*****
Erwin opened his eyes.
He wasn't in that forest.
"Ah."
But he would prefer it to his current situation.
"Yet another dream." He muttered as he took a step forward, the wooden flooring creaked under his steps. "But this is a first. To open my eyes not in the field of battle but in my childhood home."
Stonewalls covered in a damp, yellow wallpaper, a wooden floor hidden under a red floor rug.
On his left, an endless number of windows, and on his right, a cold, undecorated wall.
"Let's just end this." He began to walk.
Passing decor, paintings, and many, many of the same doors.
But no matter how much he walked, neither the room nor the doors ever ended.
All of them were the same: a slightly dirty brown oak door with a brass handle.
Though occasionally a slightly open door appeared. Only letting some light and warmth out, just not enough to peek inside.
Erwin ignored the first few times but decided to open after.
"Why did you go there!"
A young woman's voice echoed out from the room.
Erwin, still holding the handle of the half-open door, froze.
"Don't you know he is to be left alone by order of the head maid?" She added.
"I-I didn't know." Another woman, presumably younger, spoke with a thinner voice. "But why?"
"That child is cursed, cursed I say! He not only killed the madam, but he stole all emotion from Mister Blade!"
Erwin slammed the door shut.
"So… this is today's nightmare."
Her words hurt him. Maybe not as much as 30 years ago, but they still did.
"He killed the madam." While these words still echoed inside his mind, Erwin opened the second door.
To a warm kitchen, oak wood counters, marble tabletops, and an old-timey stove in the corner.
On one of the kitchen tops, a small girl sat. She was about 9 or 10 years old. Her curly blonde hair almost reached her back.
"Sister," Erwin mumbled.
Hair of his mother, eyes of his father, Erwin could never mistake her for someone else.
"But he looked sad." Erwin's sister talked to an old maid before her.
The maid had a tempered, well-built body. Years of work earned every single gray hair on her head.
"Because, sweatie, I don't want his curse to get on you." The old maid talked.
Her voice was calm and sweet.
"Is he really?"
"Yes, he is." The old maid stood straight. "That thing has the blood of the Damned Marquiss. You know him, right? Your great, great, great grandfather, who, because of his sins, lived a life of pain and inflicted suffering on people around him."
"But how do you know-"
"The hair and eyes! Black hair and brown eyes; no one had these two features together since him. He already took your mother. Don't approach him, or he might hurt you as well."
Erwin once wanted to barge in, scream, and attack the woman.
He couldn't count how many nights he cried, lamenting himself.
How many times he almost gouged his eyes out, cut his hair.
"Her and her superstitions that poisoned my siblings. And that damned bastard who was supposed to be my father watched from the corner, never stopping her."
Still gritting his teeth, Erwin slammed this door as well.
"This isn't right." He took a deep breath, deep enough to force his clothes, and exhaled.
His anger turned into annoyance, then to pity. "Superstitious, ignorant, hateful. What a waste of that human brain."
He took one last glance at the door and turned back to the corridor.
"Let's get this over with."
But this time, no door appeared.
It didn't matter how fast he walked; even when he ran, he never advanced, not even a centimeter.
"Let me out already!" He screamed.
He listened for an answer.
But none came.
Though he heard footsteps.
They came from the front.
Erwin began moving once more. And with each of his steps, the footsteps got louder and louder.
Till, void suddenly embraced the corridor.
And at that moment, Erwin opened his eyes.
For a split second, he saw moonlight reflecting from a blade descending upon him.
Without a single thought, his body rolled away.
He trampled through the ashes and embers of the campfire, burning his skin and clothes.
But he was too numbed and shocked to notice any of it.
"Who are you!" Erwin shouted as he got back up, stumbling away as he did.
The figure before him didn't answer.
It looked like a human, but Erwin had a hard time seeing what his attacker looked like because of the moon's position.
"Are you not going to answer?" Erwin shouted once more.
But instead of answering, the humanoid figure just charged forward, swinging its weapon.
Erwin dodged this attack as well and managed to get at least a glimpse of the weapon.
"A hatchet, old, rusty."
Erwin took a glimpse around himself before his attacker closed the distance.
"A wall on my back, entrance to my right, and an open space to my left, no one else is here either."
His eyes then turned back to his attacker.
It slowly approached him, their steps almost weightless, only giving up their movement through creaks.
That clue alone was enough.
Erwin started closing the distance as well.
His pupils bounced between the hatchet and the figure's legs.
Once he decided the moment was satisfactory enough, he charged in.
The figure slashed down the weapon.
Erwin managed to avoid the attack by an inch on his shoulder by leaping sideways. And as soon as his feet hit the ground, he charged in and tackled the figure.
He leaped forward, slamming into the attacker with his body weight, taking the attacker down with him.
Mid-air, he grabbed the hatchet's handle and pushed the attacker's chest down with his free arm.
They hit the ground and slid forward into a patch illuminated by the moonlight.
"Now, I got you-"
Erwin's eyes widened.
All of his instincts, millions of years of evolution, screamed for him to run.
If not for his battle-tested discipline, he would have listened to them.
"A- A skeleton…" He managed to murmur. "Am I still dreaming?"
The monster, now under him, was struggling to escape, trying to push Erwin, claw him with his bony fingers.
Grotesque, alien, terrifying, but it was still an enemy.
An enemy he suspected his mind to be maker of, and one he needed to end.
Erwin pulled the hatchet away from the skeleton's hand.
"I saw corpses of my friends awake and judge me, I drowned in my blood, haunted by the vengeful spirits of the innocent. A single skeleton is but a gift from this fucked mind of mine."
Erwin raised the hatchet and turned it around, its flat side now aimed at the monster's skull.
"I am done with it all."
He landed the first strike, taking a moment to breathe before he pulled the weapon from the caved bones.
"All these nightmares."
He struck once more, hatchet buried deep into the skull.
Chipped bone pieces scatter with the impact.
Larger shards fell around as Erwin pulled it back.
"All these hallucinations."
He struck again, with a greater might. Hatchet split the skull into two and sent sharp bones flying across the cave.
But it didn't stop with it, going even further, and cracking the back of the bone structure, and reaching the cold and dry cave floor.
Once the skeleton stopped struggling, Erwin let the hatchet go and closed his eyes.
He waited, and waited.
To open his eyes in his bed, to go through his morning routine.
But it didn't happen.
Erwin opened his eyes and looked around himself. Same cave, same trampled fire, same monster.
And something clicked in his mind.
"..."
"..."
"This is no dream."