The Ceremony of the Sanguines (Part 2) | 5-Minute Freewrite (Day 1946) | Prompt: sleepless nights

Last night, like many the past three months, Lyndley woke to the sensation of cold, claw-like fingers gentle caressing his cheek. Paralyzed with fear, he stared into a pair of blank, glossy eyes attached to a scaly dark body nestling close to his face. He wanted to scream, but immediately thought of the man in the cave. The fully-clothed man who was frightened to death even before his head rolled down into the water and landed next to Lyndley's feet where he was standing.

Another sleepless night with nightmares interspersed.

He jumped up.

Stumbling in the dark, with his body trembling, he rushed to wash his face. Blankly staring into the mirror, he didn't realize mist had formed.

Lyndley sensed the same horror in the man's eyes and helplessness the man felt. The same horror and helplessness had now become his dream sequence repeated like a loop entangled in a movie reel.

Clenching the vanity, eyes bloodshot, his pale face drained as the outline of the Sanguines came into focus.

He couldn't return to bed.

Instead, he called his best friend and research partner, Mark Hansling. Gaining a small amount of composure, he recounted this latest dream.

Lyndley was convinced that confiding in Mark was not only the key to his sanity, but also a bridge to deciphering some of the strange markings.

Although they were both students, Mark's knowledge and experience was well advanced, having relatives who worked in similar fields of civil engineering and historical societies.

Each time Lyndley recalled additional and significant details as Mark prompted his memory of even the smallest sights, sounds, and conditions of the cave and its surroundings.

The tall curved rock structure that obstructed his view. The beauty of the aqua shades that covered the beasts' bodies. The intense glow that emanated from them. The foul odors. The subsequent glow that cast a bright blue light atop the wall where he stood.

Mark documented all with precision of his teachings.

And each time, they returned to the camera Lyndley left behind.

^{Generative Art Image created by me}

The next week, Mark visited. "Lyndley, it's time. Let's go find that camera. Are you up for it?" Mark nodded enthusiastically, while eyeing him closely.

Lyndley nodded, but his stomach was churning, twisted with dread and excitement at showing Mark the cave.

The next morning they rose early. Once there, Lyndley, with Mark following closely with their recording equipment, proceeded carefully toward the thick, covered area of the forest.

The day was perfect. The forest was inviting. Blue sky. Birds chirping. Slight breeze. Colors changing the landscape. The high mountains nearby. A place of serenity and calm.

Mark stood behind Lyndley as the reached a small clearing. He pointed toward their home around across the river.

The city of Waycheshire was built atop hills. The area encompasses a backdrop of mountains offering up resources and architectural designs. You won't find many modern buildings. Its uniqueness also centers around an inactive volcano.

The quaint city with historical roots, its claim to fame is the local caves and caverns. Industry revolved around the quarries housing limestone pits of historical significance.

Mark retrieved the map of the area and the drawing of the cave Lyndley reproduced. Puzzled, they couldn't locate the specific spot where the cave should have been. That is, if Lyndley actually saw the cave.

A half hour later, Mark scratched his head. Lyndley didn't want to look up, fearing Mark would now think his encounter was only a dream.

"It just has to be here. Look, the rocks I rearranged so I'd find my way back to the car." Lyndley eagerly pointed to the ground nearby.

Lyndley's head now throbbed as tension was rapidly building. The rocks sat in the exact sequence he previously remembered and documented. However, no sign of a cave or other structure bearing markings.

Wringing his hands in disgust, Lyndley cursed several times. "I'm not crazy. I'm not losing my mind." Distracted, he didn't notice Mark reach down and separate some underbrush.

Protruding from the tangle vines was a long, red belt strap. Mark grabbed the strap and pulled until the object on the other end emerged.

The camera.

Holding his head in his hands and shaking it more violently, Lyndley turned several times as through spinning through time.

"What the hell! I distinctly remember dropping the camera at the side of the disfigured and decapitated human's head before I turned and ran." He folded his hand around his chest and heaved as though trying to return to reality.

"Lyndley! Stop it! Let's sit down and examine the camera for evidence." Mark wiped dirt from the camera.

The lens was broken, and recording had stopped. Otherwise, it looked in perfect condition. crolling through the images, nothing appeared but the blue sky with birds flying overhead.

Lyndley wiped his face, then dropped back onto the thick grass. He wanted to cry, but held back. Now, there would be no proof.

"Let's not despair, Lyndley. The fact that the lens is broken tells me something happened. Let's head home. I've an idea."

"I just want to forget about the entire horror." Lyndley didn't want to continue. He was tired of thinking about the encounter; but even more tired of the nightmares.

"No, look. We have to continue so we can solve this. I uncovered a strange entry of an incident in our city's history over a hundred years ago. Not a lengthy reporting or write up, but it may be connected to our research."

Mark didn't know for sure, he just wanted to provide his friend an outlet from his nightmares. Something to do to divert his attention from what Lyndley poetically named, "The Ceremony of the Sanguines".

In their second year of college, Lyndley's grades were slipping and his attention wasn't where it needed to be. Mark desperately wanted to support his friend. But he was concerned that whatever happened to him in that cave was taking a toll on his mental acumen.

That Lyndley did encounter something in the cave he was sure.

Lyndley finally relented. "OK. I won't give up. Someone, somewhere, must have heard of this before." Lyndley became excited again as Mark scribbled a name on a sheet of paper.

Looking at the name and place, Lyndley was puzzled as to how this person could assist and shed some light on the gruesome incident that was now cemented in his mind.

"The Ceremony of the Sanguines".