Gently down the stream...
He could hear a singsong voice echoing in the darkness and something about it made him shiver. He couldn't tell if it was a voice that he had heard before or not, but it had that tone; the one that you only ever heard in bad movies with creepy children... Or if you were having a nightmare.
He sat up straight, eyes wide and heart pounding as his gaze darted around. He was in his own bed, in his own room; safe as one could be back in the dormitories of Deus Ex Machina... Only something still wasn't right.
He untangled himself from his sheets, fingers brushing along his nightstand for the charm that was the resting form of his weapon.
It wasn't there. Tivadar wasn't there... Once again that feeling of panic welled up inside of him again. Once again he tried to push it back down, knowing that now was not the time to lose control.
Row, row, row your boat
Gently down the stream...
He froze as the voice came from behind him again, He debated whether or not he should turn around, whether or not he should scream, whether or not he should run... As tempting as the later two were, it was the first that he did, turning slowly on his feet only to come face to face with a flickering glitch of a ghost; a young girl, from what he could tell. Her hair had been done up in neat pigtails, a white apron thrown over a blue play dress graced her form and he could make out a pair of black patent leather mary janes on her feet.
They made no sound as she came for him, flickering in and out as each blink brought her closer; close enough that he could make out the knife in her hand only seconds before it was rammed up between his ribs.
Row, row, row your boat
Gently down the stream
She pulled the knife out, stabbing him roughly again with a force that he wouldn't have attributed to a girl of her size. That thought lingered in his head as he fell to his knees, one hand dropping down in an attempt to steady himself before he simply dropped to the floor. There was blood dripping from the knife. He watched the blade glisten as the blood dropped. Drip... Drip...
His eyes closed and he wondered, briefly, why it didn't hurt? Had he shut everything out in the panic? Or... No... No!
He hadn't woken up! This wasn't real! This... THIS...
Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily...
Life is but a dream.
MY STATS
My character's username: HotTea42
My character's level: 33
Character's HP: 40/40
Character's Job Class: Insane Mad Hatter
Current party: N/A
Current Guild: Queen's Rangers - White Court
Location: Respawning.... 3... 2... 1...
Small IC description of character: Tall, pale and tattooed over scars. This brown dreaded Hatter seems as though he might be a little worse for wear, but he's almost always smiling except for when he's not.
Character journal: BATTLE ENTRY LOG