I Will Haunt Your Dreams...
Date: 25th March
Time: 3:25 am
Location: Dean's flat
Characters Involved: Dean Thomas
Rating: PG
Dean was walking down a street, though he wasn't sure where- it was all a bit nondescript and hazy, yet he kept walking forward. At the sound of a scream he broke into a run, hurtling foward into the mist, his feet pounding on the road as he ran. He could have run for hours or minutes- there was no way to tell- when he reached an area at the edge of the wood.
A huge wolf was there, and somehow Dean knew that this was Fenrir Greyback. His back was to Dean as he feasted on his latest victim. The air was filled with the metallic scent of blood, though Dean could somehow not look away from the feet of the body laying on the ground. The feet looked familiar, though Dean could not place them.
An instant after taking this all in, Dean reached for his wand, hurling curses and hexes at the great form of the wolf. However, the spells simply glanced off his fur, the wolf not paying a bit of attention to the spells that Dean was now throwing and screaming at him.
Finally, the wolf had eaten it's fill, turning to offer Dean a low growl before skulking away into the shadow of the trees. Still amazed that he had been unable to stop the wolf, Dean ran over to the body on the ground, the black robes obscuring the identity of the person who's blood was now pooling on the ground. But as Dean approached, several details came into focus-
A familiar hand
Soft pink lips
Blonde hair, streaked with blood
"Hannah!" Dean yelled, sitting straight up in his bed, his heart pounding away in his chest as he tried to catch his breath. Grabbing his wand, Dean muttered a quick "Lumos," lighting up the room and glancing at the clock, which read 3:27am.
A dream, Dean realized, his brain still swirling with the sight of Hannah, ripped to shreds and laying in a pool of her own blood. Dean shuddered, knowing that the events of Sunday were already affecting him more than he would have ever liked to admit. His heart having finally calmed down a bit, Dean extinguished the light, laying back down and closing his eyes as he tried to think of something- anything- else, so that he could fall back asleep.
Time: 3:25 am
Location: Dean's flat
Characters Involved: Dean Thomas
Rating: PG
Dean was walking down a street, though he wasn't sure where- it was all a bit nondescript and hazy, yet he kept walking forward. At the sound of a scream he broke into a run, hurtling foward into the mist, his feet pounding on the road as he ran. He could have run for hours or minutes- there was no way to tell- when he reached an area at the edge of the wood.
A huge wolf was there, and somehow Dean knew that this was Fenrir Greyback. His back was to Dean as he feasted on his latest victim. The air was filled with the metallic scent of blood, though Dean could somehow not look away from the feet of the body laying on the ground. The feet looked familiar, though Dean could not place them.
An instant after taking this all in, Dean reached for his wand, hurling curses and hexes at the great form of the wolf. However, the spells simply glanced off his fur, the wolf not paying a bit of attention to the spells that Dean was now throwing and screaming at him.
Finally, the wolf had eaten it's fill, turning to offer Dean a low growl before skulking away into the shadow of the trees. Still amazed that he had been unable to stop the wolf, Dean ran over to the body on the ground, the black robes obscuring the identity of the person who's blood was now pooling on the ground. But as Dean approached, several details came into focus-
A familiar hand
Soft pink lips
Blonde hair, streaked with blood
"Hannah!" Dean yelled, sitting straight up in his bed, his heart pounding away in his chest as he tried to catch his breath. Grabbing his wand, Dean muttered a quick "Lumos," lighting up the room and glancing at the clock, which read 3:27am.
A dream, Dean realized, his brain still swirling with the sight of Hannah, ripped to shreds and laying in a pool of her own blood. Dean shuddered, knowing that the events of Sunday were already affecting him more than he would have ever liked to admit. His heart having finally calmed down a bit, Dean extinguished the light, laying back down and closing his eyes as he tried to think of something- anything- else, so that he could fall back asleep.