Susan must be a crackhead
Title: Nightmares
Author: An extremely worried Susan
Rating: Um... G
Characters: D
Word Count: 190 Jaw, let me introduce you to the floor
Notes: Don’t ask me wtf this is, because I have no idea. I think my crackheady subconscious is influencing my conscious too much. *mind is busy boggling at the weirdness of this*
D jerks upright in a cold sweat for the first time in what feels like eons.
It was cold, so cold, and so dark and there was something behind him, something chasing - pursuing -
He was unused to nightmares. He rarely had them.
He fled through the woods, calling for help, but there’s no response, there’s no reply, he’s alone he’s alone he’s alone -
He so rarely dreamt at all. Perhaps that made it more terrifying.
Laughter behind him. Hoarse, breathless laughter, because whoever it was knew they would catch him, knew he couldn’t get away -
D tried to rise from the bed, but his legs were shaky and he couldn’t do it.
It was as though his world had betrayed him - something crept around his ankle, snagging him, tripping him -
He settled against the headboard again, staring at nothing, not thinking at all.
He looked up, seeing only blue eyes dark with hate and a flash of silver -
He doesn’t go back to sleep.
The next dream he has is the same.
And the knife is sharper and the eyes are darker, until...
Author: An extremely worried Susan
Rating: Um... G
Characters: D
Word Count: 190 Jaw, let me introduce you to the floor
Notes: Don’t ask me wtf this is, because I have no idea. I think my crackheady subconscious is influencing my conscious too much. *mind is busy boggling at the weirdness of this*
D jerks upright in a cold sweat for the first time in what feels like eons.
It was cold, so cold, and so dark and there was something behind him, something chasing - pursuing -
He was unused to nightmares. He rarely had them.
He fled through the woods, calling for help, but there’s no response, there’s no reply, he’s alone he’s alone he’s alone -
He so rarely dreamt at all. Perhaps that made it more terrifying.
Laughter behind him. Hoarse, breathless laughter, because whoever it was knew they would catch him, knew he couldn’t get away -
D tried to rise from the bed, but his legs were shaky and he couldn’t do it.
It was as though his world had betrayed him - something crept around his ankle, snagging him, tripping him -
He settled against the headboard again, staring at nothing, not thinking at all.
He looked up, seeing only blue eyes dark with hate and a flash of silver -
He doesn’t go back to sleep.
The next dream he has is the same.
And the knife is sharper and the eyes are darker, until...