THUD
There it is.
THUD
That sound again.
THUD
Getting closer.
THUD
No time to think
THUD
No time to move
THUD
No room to breath
Breath
there was no air. I
Just water
and glass
a tank
pounding fists
c-crack
Pressure and force.
The glass shattered, but there was nothing beneath the tank but an endless void
falling
falling
falling
and a voice
many many voices
"where are the knives-"
"no chocolate-"
"stay determined-"
but louder than all the rest
"You filthy brother killer"
Always sounding
"his dust scattered across the courtyard-"
"the golden flowers-"
"why aren't you fighting back-"
"YOU FILTHY BROTHER KILLER!"
The guilt
the pain
the regret
It never truly left
it was simply
hiding
BOOM
a cloud of smoke
screams
The dust
living creatures with lives, families, friends, loved ones
reduced to nothing
nothing but dust
the screams grew louder
the pounding blood
a mirror.
everything goes still
the reflection smiles
a knife
golden flowers
Blood.
Blood on your hands,
in the reflection,
everywhere
Then come the sounds
laughter, empty of any joy
Screams, calling out in the darkness
and the voices
the voices in your head that never leave you alone
They all swirl around you
A howling tornado of pain, guilt, sadness, anger, hatred, bloodlust
never backing down
driving you slowly insane
They shriek
and wail
and-
Chara sat bolt upright, letting out a cry. Upon moving, they realized they were drenched in a cold sweat. Heart pounding, tears running, and body aching, they swung their legs out over the side of the bed, before pulling them back to a crisscrossed position. They rested their elbows on their knees, and head in hands. It was just a nightmare. One that kept coming back, yes, but just a nightmare.
Chara looked around the room. Three beds lay, one in each corner, save the one near the door. Occupying one of them, Chara sat, examining the other two, where their siblings lay. Soft, steady movement, accompanied by a small whistle of breath; Asriel. From the other bed, a loud snorting could be heard, followed by a hiss of air, emanated from the pile of misshapen blankets and worn stuffed animals; Frisk. Chara's siblings were sleeping, safe and sound. But that's not what had been going on in Chara's dreams. It was just a nightmare, they reminded themself, and lay down, waiting for sleep, and expecting more horror, perhaps worse than before. They took a shaky breath, and began to cry. Sleep would have to wait.