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Nightmares. . . .

It was cold and dark here.

Victor shivered, hugging himself as he looked around. Blackness surrounded him at every turn. He hated darkness like this, all-consuming and suffocating. It always made him feel -- trapped. Like an animal in a cage. He called out, suddenly desperate to hear a voice. "H-hello?"

No reply. Victor shivered again. Of course there was no reply. Nobody would want to brave this darkness. Nobody cared enough to come look for him. Why would they? He was weak and shy and --

"Worthless."

Victor nearly leapt out of his skin. What -- who -- the voice sounded vaguely familiar, in a way he couldn't place, but -- "Who's t-there?" he asked, backing up a step.

"You're nothing," the voice said, smooth and cruel. "No one would miss you. No one wants you. I deserve to come back!"

Out of nowhere, parts of the darkness came alive. Victor felt thick tentacles wrap tight around his arms and legs. Another muffled his mouth so he couldn't scream. Shaking in terror, he saw two black eyes peering at him out of the darkness, cold hate in their depths. "GIVE TO ME WHAT IS RIGHTFULLY MINE!"


Victor jerked awake, breathing heavily. For a moment, he saw only darkness, and nearly panicked. Then his eyes adjusted, and he realized he was in his room. He hastily turned on the bedside lamp and sat up. "Oh, what a dream," he whispered, pushing back his hair.

He didn't think any more sleep would be forthcoming tonight.