Post by The Eternal Nightmare on Oct 24, 2013 20:24:36 GMT -5
The man awoke suddenly in a cold sweat, the way he had many times before. He sat up and took in his surroundings, instantly relieved to find himself in his own room instead of the prison in his mind. The room, unfurnished and frigid, was the man's only refuge from the terrors that wracked his mind night after night. He had first experienced the grotesque and horrific visions when he was but a young child, and despite his pleas for help, his ailment had been written off by doctors as "nightmares". In truth, the man was haunted by a vile and dangerous spectre, a creature that thrived on his fear and anguish. His fear of the creature had grown over the years to an extent where he no longer controlled his own mind, his very thoughts were subject to the creature's control. Family and friends, unable and eventually unwilling to help the man, had all left him alone with the creature, and thus the man lost control over the demon.
Scattered around the room were various drawings, rough sketches that the man had made to show others the nightmare in his mind. He picked one of these drawings up, a dark, shadowy figure devoid of human features except for two glowing eyes and the two wicked blades attached to dark, shadowy hands. Along each of the blades was a thick coating of blood, always there was blood, as if he had just come from killing another victim of his torment. The creature, for he dared not even whisper his name hence the spectre come forth, seemed to revel in the fear and torture of the man, and from his tormentor there seemed to be no escape. The man had become so paralyzed by his fear of the creature that he could not muster the courage to venture outside of his room. His body's desire for nourishment had disappeared, long since replaced only by fear and the ever prolonged visions of his demise.
As the man lay back to relax, he suddenly grimaced in pain as the images of his mind started to warp into the dark shadows that signaled the creature's arrival. He found himself in a dark void, and unable to tell if it was a dream or reality. All illumination had been sucked out of the place where he stood, save a small glow emanating from what appeared to be a door some unidentifiable distance away. A slight movement caught his eye, and he turned to see the shadows in front of him begin to twist and deform, and to his horror, release the horrifying image of the creature's blades coming forth. The man tried desperately to move, his mind fighting with all its intensity to free his body of the paralyzing fear that now gripped it, yet it remained rigid. Then came a noise, a faint yet vibrating knock, that seemed to emanate from the light source. All at once, the force controlling his body slackened, as if stunned, and the man wasted no time in turning and running towards the door. He dared not look back towards the creature, yet hastened his pace when he saw, with horror, that the light was fading rapidly. He strained hard against fatigue and exhaustion and waves of despair and fear that battered his mind, beckoning him back towards the shadows and tormenting his very soul. He cried out, doubled his pace and lunged towards the light in one last desperate attempt, yet as he reached the door the world went black and he heard the voice of the creature ring out, thick with poison and sick delight...
The man's body forced out a short gasp as the blades entered the small of his back and came out his stomach, and then he fell silent.
The onlooker was a businessman, the young but successful type, wearing a handsome blue suit with a white shirt and looking on as the police cordoned off the area around the body. He gave one quick look up at the window the man had come out of, some say pushed, others guess thrown, and then looked back at the man. He was dressed simply and had a tattered, tired look to him, like he had not rested in quite some time. After a quick look at his watch, the man shrugged and turned to go, he was already late for work.
As he pushed past a few onlookers, a voice rang out in his head, clearly audible in his head above the din of morning traffic.
"Are you my nightmare, or am I yours?"
Scattered around the room were various drawings, rough sketches that the man had made to show others the nightmare in his mind. He picked one of these drawings up, a dark, shadowy figure devoid of human features except for two glowing eyes and the two wicked blades attached to dark, shadowy hands. Along each of the blades was a thick coating of blood, always there was blood, as if he had just come from killing another victim of his torment. The creature, for he dared not even whisper his name hence the spectre come forth, seemed to revel in the fear and torture of the man, and from his tormentor there seemed to be no escape. The man had become so paralyzed by his fear of the creature that he could not muster the courage to venture outside of his room. His body's desire for nourishment had disappeared, long since replaced only by fear and the ever prolonged visions of his demise.
As the man lay back to relax, he suddenly grimaced in pain as the images of his mind started to warp into the dark shadows that signaled the creature's arrival. He found himself in a dark void, and unable to tell if it was a dream or reality. All illumination had been sucked out of the place where he stood, save a small glow emanating from what appeared to be a door some unidentifiable distance away. A slight movement caught his eye, and he turned to see the shadows in front of him begin to twist and deform, and to his horror, release the horrifying image of the creature's blades coming forth. The man tried desperately to move, his mind fighting with all its intensity to free his body of the paralyzing fear that now gripped it, yet it remained rigid. Then came a noise, a faint yet vibrating knock, that seemed to emanate from the light source. All at once, the force controlling his body slackened, as if stunned, and the man wasted no time in turning and running towards the door. He dared not look back towards the creature, yet hastened his pace when he saw, with horror, that the light was fading rapidly. He strained hard against fatigue and exhaustion and waves of despair and fear that battered his mind, beckoning him back towards the shadows and tormenting his very soul. He cried out, doubled his pace and lunged towards the light in one last desperate attempt, yet as he reached the door the world went black and he heard the voice of the creature ring out, thick with poison and sick delight...
Daaarrrkneeessssss...
[/font][/size][/center]The man's body forced out a short gasp as the blades entered the small of his back and came out his stomach, and then he fell silent.
The onlooker was a businessman, the young but successful type, wearing a handsome blue suit with a white shirt and looking on as the police cordoned off the area around the body. He gave one quick look up at the window the man had come out of, some say pushed, others guess thrown, and then looked back at the man. He was dressed simply and had a tattered, tired look to him, like he had not rested in quite some time. After a quick look at his watch, the man shrugged and turned to go, he was already late for work.
As he pushed past a few onlookers, a voice rang out in his head, clearly audible in his head above the din of morning traffic.
"Are you my nightmare, or am I yours?"