Open Up Your Eyes
Characters: Michelangelo (thepartydude) and Leonardo (betterthanraph) [closed]
Location: Deck 11, Room 7291
Date: present
Rating: PG maybe, if that.
It was only forty-five minutes. Less than an hour. In and out, a piece of cake.
But Mike just couldn't shake that persistent sense of wrongness, the dark uneasy feeling that weighted his shoulders and made him double-check every shadow. Keeping up a show of optimism and goofiness for his brothers wasn't too much of a chore, but when he was alone in his room, flopped back on the bed and staring at the ceiling, it was harder to keep his mind preoccupied.
What if Raph was down there? What if they missed him?
What if they'd been too late?
What if, what if, what if ...?
Thoughts raced around in his mind for hours until eventually, exhausted, he succumbed to slumber. It wasn't long before the nightmares took over; twisted memories of running through decks full of infected people, being buried under mountains of wigs, running from inhuman horse-headed beasts only to face dead ends and locked doors. And then he was in that room, that room. The bloody operating tables were unoccupied, but the stench still hung in the air, fresh and oppressive and evil.
The room was empty, but something called to him silently from the drawers, pulling his focus until everything else faded away. His arms shook and his teeth chattered, but Mikey knew he had to open that drawer. That one, with the fresh blood smears. Like a moth drawn to a flame, he walked over, hooking the handle with one hand and slowly pulling back the rolling drawer. The wide, dead eyes of his hot-headed brother stared back at him from the drawer.
Mikey gasped, and threw himself upright in bed, dripping with sweat and panting heavily.
Okay. Okay, just a dream.
Rubbing his face with one hand, he reached over with the other to flick on the lamp. Light flooded the room, and from the foot of the bed, Raphael's soulless corpse stared back at his baby brother.
Michelangelo screamed, and lost his balance. Rolling out of bed with a thud, he grabbed the lamp cord reflexively, dragging it to the floor where it shattered. The room fell into darkness.
Location: Deck 11, Room 7291
Date: present
Rating: PG maybe, if that.
It was only forty-five minutes. Less than an hour. In and out, a piece of cake.
But Mike just couldn't shake that persistent sense of wrongness, the dark uneasy feeling that weighted his shoulders and made him double-check every shadow. Keeping up a show of optimism and goofiness for his brothers wasn't too much of a chore, but when he was alone in his room, flopped back on the bed and staring at the ceiling, it was harder to keep his mind preoccupied.
What if Raph was down there? What if they missed him?
What if they'd been too late?
What if, what if, what if ...?
Thoughts raced around in his mind for hours until eventually, exhausted, he succumbed to slumber. It wasn't long before the nightmares took over; twisted memories of running through decks full of infected people, being buried under mountains of wigs, running from inhuman horse-headed beasts only to face dead ends and locked doors. And then he was in that room, that room. The bloody operating tables were unoccupied, but the stench still hung in the air, fresh and oppressive and evil.
The room was empty, but something called to him silently from the drawers, pulling his focus until everything else faded away. His arms shook and his teeth chattered, but Mikey knew he had to open that drawer. That one, with the fresh blood smears. Like a moth drawn to a flame, he walked over, hooking the handle with one hand and slowly pulling back the rolling drawer. The wide, dead eyes of his hot-headed brother stared back at him from the drawer.
Mikey gasped, and threw himself upright in bed, dripping with sweat and panting heavily.
Okay. Okay, just a dream.
Rubbing his face with one hand, he reached over with the other to flick on the lamp. Light flooded the room, and from the foot of the bed, Raphael's soulless corpse stared back at his baby brother.
Michelangelo screamed, and lost his balance. Rolling out of bed with a thud, he grabbed the lamp cord reflexively, dragging it to the floor where it shattered. The room fell into darkness.