nitemare prompt
gaia_nitemareright [ The Unknown: ] You are in a strange room full of curious items, trinkets that sparkle and gleam to the touch, familiar items, perhaps ones belonging to you or those close to you. Suddenly, you notice a room below you, simple and dark. All your instincts are telling you to run away from it. You try to run, walk away, but your feet continue heading down the dark hallway as you can only helplessly watch yourself move forward; descending downwards.

Your fears get the better of you as voices, images and flashbacks of people you know, begin to taunt and accuse you. Your friends, those you watched dissipate and die begin to form around you, cloudy shapes corrupted and melding together whispering to you accusingly. Why didn't you save them? Why didn't you help? It gets darker, you cannot see anything now, not even yourself, even as you feel something grab you and pull at your feet, dragging you forward. There is nothing you can do as you are pulled slowly, struggling the entire time; to your demise as the vague figures of your friends simply watch. You wake up just before you realize exactly what the thing was at the end of the tunnel... perhaps they are still waiting for you.



It had been some time since sleep came easily for the cosmic dragon. Sheridan could not remember the last time he had felt a truly peaceful sleep, not since the days of the horrific nitemare of the death trials. No, maybe it had before even that, perhaps he had not truly slept well in the past year, still haunted by the so called field trip on the island where they had first encountered the hunters.

Reguardless of when it had begun, it was certain that the worst had come after the trials. It was after that nitemare that only the idea of sleep had come to terrify him. Horrified that if he slept he would reawaken to the nitemare all over again, Sheridan had taken great lengths to stay awake as long as he was physically able, only sleeping when he at last passed out from sheer exhaustion. Those times he had slept had been fitful, restless, haunted by images and memories he desperately wished he could forget, a cruel dream that was far more than just a dream.

But Sheridan was strong, he was bold and determined, he was no longer the dragon he had been in the days after the trials. He had grown, he had changed, he had conquered his nitemares, and he was no longer afraid. No longer did he hide in the shadows or tremble at the horrific images he saw, no longer did he fear he would reawaken in that terrible world he had seen. A new resolve had been ignited, a determination to always protect those he cared for, to never give in, to fight and bring fear of his kind to those who sought to destroy him, whether they be hunter or horseman.

Horsemen, he did not like them, he did not trust them, he would never trust them. It was the horsemen who had created his nitemare, who had seen fit to throw him into that horrific dream as some twisted test (or had it been a game to them?). Yet for all his distrust, he did hold a gratitude toward those of the four clans. He had learned much under their guidance, how to craft, how to find peace, how to become a formidable opponent without relying on his FEAR and natural abilities, and most of all he had learned to fight and defeat his nitemare. He was a better dragon for all he had learned, and for that he was truly grateful.

And yet, there was something still there, something that gnawed at his thoughts, a feeling that he couldn’t quite shake. And though he no longer feared sleep or whatever nitemares it may have brought, it did not stop his mind from seeing them.

Huh?

The dragon started awake, silver eyes blinking to shake away the sleep. Groggily, he stood setting aside the book he still held in his hands. He must have fallen asleep while reading again, unsurprising, it wasn’t the first time nor would it be the last. A hand raised to wipe the sleep from his eyes, what time was it?

Wait, where was he? Looking around, he realized he was not in his room, had he fallen asleep in the library? Odd, he didn’t recall going to the library the night before. Ugg, how long had he sleep, and how soundly? He hoped no one had decided to prank him while he’d been asleep…

Still trying to shake off the sleep, Sheridan reached for his book, intending to collect the object and return to his room. What? His hand had found only empty air, but he was certain he had put his book on that…table? He blinked, then shrugged, thinking he had either been far more exhausted than he’d thought or someone was having fun with him. But as he walked toward the door, or rather where he expected the door to be, something began to gnaw at him, a sense of something, something that sent a chill down his spine and made his hair stand on end, something he did not like. He was getting the distinct sense he was not in the library…

A look around the room revealed this was indeed not the library, though it was not for a lack of books scattered around. His gaze fell on a familiar looking stone, a small opalescent gem that glistened in the light, shimmering as it reflected every color of the spectrum. Beside the stone sat a book, its pages filled with stars, charts, images of the universe. Why was this stone here? He knew of only one place such stones existed, stones like the one he wore around his own neck, the stones were only possessed by the cosmic dragons. But there was something more familiar about this stone, it reminded him of the stone that belonged to—

His thoughts were broken, his gaze suddenly drawn away, peering into the darkness beyond. A winding staircase, a room? Where was he? His senses screamed at him, his mind reeled, this was bad, turn around, turn around now! No, do not go that way, down that path is only danger, nitemares, STOP NOW! And yet he continued forward, drawn onward by some inexplicable force. Turn around, Sheridan, turn around now! And yet for all the reasons he knew he should stop, he knew he should turn back right then and there, he continued onward, following the dark path.

He heard them, voices tearing through his mind, growing louder and more horrifying with every step he took, ringing in his ears even as he tried to block them out, images and forms, memories haunting him no matter how hard he tried to close his eyes against them. Why, why was this happening?!

Why, why did you let this happen? Why didn’t you protect me? Why didn’t you stop them from turning me into a weapon? Why won’t you come with us? Why won’t you join us? Why…?

No, stop it! I tried to stop them, I did all I could! I…STOP IT! GO AWAY! LEAVE ME ALONE!

A roar, or perhaps a scream, his body shaking as he tried to block them out. He tried to run, to escape, but no matter how hard he tried, he could not shake them, no matter how far he thought he ran, the room drew ever closer.

He fell to his knees, panting, gasping for breath, barely noticing the impenetrable darkness, the world of pure black silence. There was nothing, no voices, no images, only darkness and nothing. Where—

Sudden horror and terror as it seized him, something unseen, unknown wrapped around him and knocked him from his feet. He roared, crying out, the echoes of his screams fading into the darkness as it dragged him toward what he did not know. Let go of me! He lashed out, thrashing against its grasp, his tail snapping in anger and panic, talons slashing helplessly, desperately seeking to find something, to reach a handhold, anything he could catch and hold to, anything to stop whatever had caught him from dragging him further into nothingness. Several blasts of frozen plasma, followed by several of plasma flames, more ice, nothing shook the attacker’s grasp.

LET ME GO!

…..

The dragon awoke with a sudden start, standing bolt upright in the middle of his room, his tail lashing with enough force to knock over a nearby chair. He was panting, gasping for breath, his body still shaking, trembling with the nitemare. He, he was okay, there was no darkness, no voices, no unseen attacker, it had all been in his mind. He was safe, his friends were safe, the thoughts that still lingered at the back of his mind were already fading. It had all been a dream, nothing but a dream.

A dream…


(( word count: 1,302 ))