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i am a beautiful and unique snowflake bitchescode:--- Many people have nightmares when they are children, and eventually grow out of them as they mature, losing themselves in the everyday businesses of life rather than lingering on momentary nocturnal hallucinations. With Victor, it seems as though life had played a joke - instead of growing out of nightmares, he grew into them. At the age of twenty, they started - innocuous at first, but steadily increasing in intensity and horrifying detail. "Let go! Not the hands!" he'd cry out in his dorm, much to the chagrin of his normal roommates. When exams rolle d around, he found himself terribly unprepared, and, quite predictibly, failed out. The academic suspension he received did not seem so bad, however - Victor decided to spend the next few months living with his parents and hopefully recover from all the stress. It was a good idea, and the nightmares stopped. For one week and one day. On the ninth day, Victor Eves was again denied his peace. His screams echoed throughout the house, over and over again. When his parents tried to wake him, they found that they couldn't - Victor would sleep in writhing agony for the entire night, until the first ray of the sun brought him temporary reprieve. For one week and one day, the Victor endured, and, just as suddenly as they had started, the torturous visions stopped. On the ninth day, Victor slept like a baby, and the doctor that his parents had arranged to come seem him on the tenth had no explanation for the occurrence, nor its absence. It seemed as though everything had returned to normal - Victor's parents did not worry, and he returned to university with the hopes of carrying on with life just as any other normal human being. *** Each night, Victor dreaded going to sleep. Even when he had moved off campus and the nightmares subsided, he felt worry well up in the pit of his somach as dusk approached. Thankfully, on his first night home, sleep refused to come to him for many hours; when it did, it was mercifully uneventful, and though he woke up just as tired the next morning, he had no complaints. On his second night, Victor managed to get a few more hours, and his face began to once again show colour. On his third night, Victor dreamt in peace, and it seemed as though all was going well. For four more nights, Victor rested, regained his strength, and was returning to his former jubilant self. On the eighth night, Victor dreamt of vivid colours and good fortunes, of graduating with honours and being surrounded by beautiful girls. And on the ninth night, Victor felt a beautiful hand clasp around his. It was so cold. *** The long, icy fingers wrapped around his wrist like a vise, and when Victor looked to see who it was tugging at him, his heart skipped a beat. It was Him. Her. It. But It had never come this far from under the bed! Even as it loomed closer and closer over him, Victor recalled his previous nightmares. There was always a hand, sometimes two, sometimes ten, grabbing for him, all with long, icy fingers just like this one, but never did he see more than the corner of Its mouth. Now he saw It, in all Its horrid form. The face, nothing but sharp angles, was exactly in front of him. Its pointed nose nearly touched his, and the poppy-red lips stretched in a wide smile, revealing a row of sharp teeth, clenched together and shining like diamonds. Victor felt more icy fingers around his throat. It was, he knew then, the Sepulchre of Glass and Flesh. No sooner had he thought that than he felt himself dragged, forever separated from the comfort of his room. Like the corpse of a fallen deer, he was being pulled over forest briars, and each time he tried to struggle, the forest punished him with dirt in his face and stinging barbs in his flash. With his arms bloodied from thorn bites, Victor grabbed on to the last chance he saw - a tree just off the path. He put his arms around its spiked trunk, and held it in a lover's embrace. The tree held back, sinking its skewers deep beneath his skin. The Sepulchre of Glass and Flesh paid no heed and kept walking, its quarry firmly in its grasp. Still Victor held on, with strength beyond strength, until he felt his body being dragged away from the tree, his arms shattering like so much glass. Crying out in agony, he let go and surrendered. But the tree held on for one week and one day, and did not give until the poor boy's arms were distended like flimsy elastics and chunks of his flesh hung from its spines. The Sepulchre knew that nothing in the Hedge would let the boy go, Itself no exception. Victor knew, too. *** I'll keep adding poo poo about the Durance and escape from the Fae if anyone's interested. Jesu Kuristu fucked around with this message at 02:50 on Feb 5, 2009 |
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Nov 11, 2008 08:21
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| # ¿ Apr 26, 2024 13:38 |
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I'll be around a little bit earlier today, anywhere between 10:45 and 11:15. And we drat well better be playing 'till late today!
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Nov 20, 2008 19:05
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