Ryven fought sleep as long as he could, realizing the futility of the struggle. After all, he couldn't stay awake forever. He was clenched with fear, a dread unlike any he'd ever known. It was chilling, and the icy current flowing through his veins bore with it the paralyzing certainty of failure. He could not keep the Other at bay. His ascendency was inevitable. Ryven would have wept if he hadn't already cried himself to the point where no tears would come. Instead he lay in bed, cradling himself, trembling. Fear was not a feeling he was accustomed to, and in its sheer intensity, he had succumbed to it and the walls had swept in around him, crushing him, suffocating him, rendering him but a husk.
He lay there, perhaps for hours. The time that passed was a stranger to him. The world around him faded until there was only him and the fear, and sleep, which circled like wolves. As his eyes finally became too leaden to remain open, he choked out a desperate "No!" before he lost consciousness and the Other took over.
His body lay motionless, and he felt himself fading into blackness. It would be hours before he returned. Now there was only the Other, who's eyes popped open and immediately grinned. He pulled himself up off the bed, his eyes scanning around the room, reveling in his triumphant return to the world. He quickly returned from his reveling, however, a sense of purpose taking over. There's work to do. He went into his wardrobe and put on an outfit that reminded him of his old life.
He checked to make sure he had a weapon. A blade. He didn't think it would be necessary, but it could come in handy. Now, it was time to find Shalee. He had some questions he needed answered.
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