Snippet #2113902

Treyn Erbin was dreaming, dreaming a delicate dream. He was dreaming about a woman. He could not make out her features in the slightest. Only bits and pieces, her pale, soft flesh, her pale, silky hair, and he could never focus on her well enough to make out anything else, but he felt he knew her. They were laying together on a perfectly soft bed, with perfectly soft sheets, and perfectly warm blankets. He loved her, and she loved him, and everything was perfect. He was content in life just being there, holding her, but something was wrong, Treyn Erbin never had dreams... Suddenly he was alone. In a desolate field. Cracked earth underneath him and scorched skies above him. Withered trees dotted the broken landscape, and he could hear thunder off in the distance. All he could feel was an overwhelming sense of isolation. He was utterly and completely alone in life. After a while, his shadow began to slide away from him and reform itself. Soon it towered above him, its shadowy body trailing into nothingness.
"You are weak!", it said, "You are nothing!"
Soon more of the shadow-things appeared out of nowhere, all of them chanting the same thing over, and over, "You are weak! You are nothing!"
Treyn grasped the nearest weapon he could, a rock, and charged at the closest shadow-thing. He phased right through it, and the shadow-things burst into maniacal laughter.
"You cannot harm us," the things shouted in unison, lending a eerie echo to their words, "We are fear made flesh!"
At that point the shadow things alternated chants, half shouting his weakness, and the other half touting their strength. They began to close in, eventually encapsulating him in a prison of shadow. Soon, he was falling, falling deep into nothingness...


"Aah!" He jerked up in his bed, covered in a sheen of sweat. He checked his clock, "Shit, five-thirty, I need to get ready for school..." He pulled his blanket off of himself, and stood in the cold air, causing goosepimples to raise up on his chest, arms, and legs. He always wore his boxers when he slept, and he always kept the temperature down low. He shuffled into his ensuite bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet, taking a red vial out and downing it in one gulp. He shut the cabinet and noticed his face. He had dark circles and bags under his eyes, and his normally shaven face was covered by a layer of stubble. His hair was tousled from his troubled sleep. He hopped into the shower and made sure to wash everything. Once out of the shower he contemplated shaving, but decided against it. He normally did shave, but today he was too tired to care. He walked back into his room and clumsily put on his school uniform, with his signature jacket over it. He would normally be cooking beakfast at this time, but under the circumstances, he was too unnerved to have an appetite. He pulled his schoolbag off of its hook by the door and walked outside. He decided he would take the long way to school that took him by Connor's house. After last night, he needed to talk to someone about his dream, he didn't care who, but he needed to vent. He took his keyes and hopped into his car. He lived some miles away from the school and Connor's place, so it would be at least thirty minutes before he got to Connor's. Once in the car he decided that he needed to relax, so he started blaring his music, which was more than loud enough to wake a few of the neighbors.