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Demonic Dreams

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Note: This is a sequel to Origins


You wake up in a cold sweat. You always do, but this one felt different. You've been having dreams lately. Dreams that didn't make a lot of sense to you. They were always the same, but in different places. They always ended the same, a slaughter from an unknown assailant and a pool of blood around your feet. It started three years ago, when you had the one chance to change your life, but didn't...

February 14, 2010. You come home from school with a cool breeze behind you. You and your friend, Andy, were walking to your house and were talking about manly things, like, super cars and motorcycles.

"I've always wanted a McLaren," Andy says, "They look nice, go pretty damn fast, and are expensive, so who wouldn't want one?" You take this all in stride, you know your mind and he's been pushing you to get that car since he heard about your grandfather's passing... and his two million dollar inheritance to you. "Think about it though, we could show up like total badasses on the final days of senior year, and impress everyone!"

You look at him and smile briefly, "You're too damn enthusiastic about this. But we'll see. It just might work," is all you can say to him.

You wake up in the middle of the night, to hear your mom pounding on the door.

"Are you alright?!" is all you hear from her, then you hear a cry and an anguished gurgle. THUD. You finally work up the nerve to move towards the door, but step in something slick and fall. Blood. You remember the metallic tinged smell of it. You get up and quickly fling open the door to see your dad standing there with bloodshot eyes.

"Hello, son."

It's been three days since your dad killed your mother and you fled to live with Andy. After telling him everything about it, he finally looks up and says one thing.

"I'm sorry I caused this..." You look at him with uncertain feelings, not knowing what he means about that statement. "I had to tell your dad our plan and he wants the inheritance to himself. I'm sorry." You look at him and realize that this happened out of self-preservation, as your dad has always been an asshole to everyone you knew.

"No Andy, I'm sorry. Sorry for what's about to happen." You walk into the kitchen and grab a small table knife, that has been sharpened to its finest edge. Andy walks in right behind you, expecting you to commit suicide. He was right. You take the knife and right as you're about to plunge it into your chest, he deftly disarms you.

"No son-of-a-bitch friend of mine is gonna commit suicide." You look at him and realize that he was right all along. "Now, let's go to bed and talk tomorrow."

But you wake up to hear a blood-curdling scream.

"Andy! Turn off the movie!" was the first thing you yelled. On the clock it says 3:08. Great. No sleep once more. You get up and open the door, and smell that same metallic tinged blood. You quickly rush to Andy's room and see him pinned against the wall with... Talons? The knives resemble a bird's claws, but they have no handles. You look and see he is still alive, and in terrible agony at that.

"Andy! What the hell happened!?" He lifts up his arm and shakily points to the door, then goes limp from suffering too much pain. "Kill me..." is all he says to you. It would be merciful. But what if I'm blamed for it?

"Sorry Andy. I can't. No son-of-a-bitch friend of mine is gonna die tonight..." You run over to get your phone and realize that you're crying. You dial 9-1-1 and hear the operator pick up the phone. Five minutes later and you hear the sirens outside of the house. You run out and one of the cops slugs you across the jaw and cuffs you.

"How dare you kill my son." Andy's dad.

The judge let you explain yourself on the court date, but you declined, for fear that no one would believe a word you said. They take you to an asylum and close you into a padded room. That's when the dreams started.

Three years later and the dreams haven't stopped. They end the same way. The blood on your hands and waking up in a cold sweat. You were taken outside and in front of a priest and he offers to cleanse your sins.

"I have done nothing to deserve your pity, old man," is all you can offer before being taken back to your room.

You wake up that night from another massacre, but this one felt different. You quickly clear your nose and sniff the air. It smells like meat, but you can't tell what kind. But you smell another thing. A metallic hint of... what? Your senses have been dulled and you can't pick up the scent as well. Blood. You remember and realize that after wiping your hands off on the mat, that you left a darkened stain. You've always woken up in blood, not sweat. But why? Why would you do this? You can't seem to remember. You quickly recall your dreams and realize that there have been mirrors, you looked into those mirrors to see your own reddened eyes. Not bloodshot, but actual glowing red eyes. I've been the murderer all this time. ME! The guard takes you down stairs and in front of a firing squad. You are sentenced to death for the murders you've committed. Just as you look up and see a face. It has a knowing grin...

... and the demonic red eyes wink at you before your world turns pitch black.

Written by Agnerstein
Content is available under CC BY-SA

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