II
It was dark, as dark as the deepest pits. Dale reached out his hands and grabbed at the air. Nothing could be seen. There was a weird sensation, a gut feeling that someone, or something was watching him. All of a sudden he felt a cool breeze brush across his face and that sent a tingling feeling right through his spine.
Then there was that sound.
More like a moan, actually. And it sounded like a child's. The moan started out soft and gentle, then it grew in volume and intensity. Soon, it was coming from the back of Dale's ears. He clenched his fist tightly and spun around.
A white and almost bloodless face was staring at him. It was suspended in mid-air. It did not move. Dale tried his best to identify the complexion of the floating face, but all he could see was a blur. It was there, but somehow vague, like a dream that has just past. It's jaw was moving up and down in a rhythmic pattern as the moaning continued. It was weird because one is supposed to be afraid under such circumstance, but to Dale's surprise he wasn't scared at all. Instead it was somewhat soothing. He felt...serene.
Dale tried talking but his voice box was suppressed. He reached out his arms and tried to grab at the head. Then it disappeared and Dale felt a sharp pain pierced through his face and everything went dark again.
By then the all-too-familiar pain of a hangover has already started to lurk over Dale.
