(no subject)
A/N: this is important. this is the first of the two-parter I couldn't put into one entry. So read this one first.
He sat bolt upright in bed, covered in sweat and breathing hard. His dreams were getting more and more frequent and if he wasn't careful, he knew he'd go insane.
Rolling out from under the sheets, he quickly dressed and left the hostel he was staying at, careful not to step on any of the other men sleeping on the floor. He stepped out into the crisp night air, walking down the front driveway towards his rented car, letting a soft zephyr caress his troubled face. He finally arrived at the house on where the room lay atop, and climbed his way up the stairs of the stone tower until he reached the door of the cell.
He stared at the words written on the wall and wished there was sone way he could translate them into English himself, instead of having to wait for the scholars to do it. They were not even in recognizable characters, but he felt some tug at his subconscious, telling him he knew where they originated from. He closed his eyes and thought hard, trying to remember what he had learned about languages in high school and college. Feeling confident, he opened his eyes again, and stared at the writing on the wall staring back at him, and almost fainted in shock.
He understood the words.