Author's note: This piece is... I need a disclaimer, don't I?
DISCLAIMER
Okay, anyway--This piece is from my longer, extended (by several dozen pages) version of "I Can Hear Them Whisper." Where Heiji has a nightmare. If it doesn't make sense; cool. If it does; even cooler. Either way--enjoy!
We were in an oddly lit museum. People all around us were talking in muffled, disciplined voices, and yet we couldn't see their sources. Everything was dim and a little blurry except for their faces. I wish they had been blurry, too.
"Help me," Kudou told me. His eyes were coated in a layer of blood, and his neck was covered in the blood from his mouth. He blindly grasped at my shoulders, finally being able to reach them. "Please Hattori." His scratchy voice cracked with everything he said.
Ran was to our right, but with a glass wall between her and us. Bloody handprints and fist-prints were all over from where Kudou had tried to get to her. She had mostly given up as well, slumped, kneeling on the floor, pounding on the barrier weakly. Her hair was a little disheveled, and her white face was stretched grotesquely in worry, screaming. Soon, some of her hair had fallen over half of her face, growing stringy and dull as it did.
Kudou's eyes dripped free of the blood, leaving uniform gray. The imprints and feeling of his hands remained on my shoulders still, but he suddenly wasn't. At the top of a long, marble and mahogany staircase to my left, he stood, with the same light gray eyes but no blood.
All the while, I remained still and calm. Inside I was shrieking, trying with all my might to run. I could feel vaguely viscous liquid running down from the top of my head and the back of my neck, and I couldn't reach to touch it.
Ran's wall was gone, but she didn't move, except for rising to her feet. "Shinichi!" she screamed. But her mouth was closed. It echoed through the building; the acoustics traveling melodiously, making me feel like we were very small. The echo carried on a little longer than it should have, and eventually warped into Conan's voice, which sounded like he was crying out in fear or distress.
"No!" yelled Kudou from his spot on the stairs. As he fell to his knees holding his head, he battled away shadows that threatened to engulf him. His head had begun bleeding again, but he ignored it as he had before and continued thrashing. His voice didn't echo like Ran's had; it was just loud.
I went, without noticing, from the lobby to the stairs, a few steps from where Kudou was fighting off the shadows. They finally began using force by lashing out at him, tearing at his blue jacket and head. They left gashes and holes no matter how hard he tried to defend himself. I realized then that I could hear the shadows; they had children's voices.
When I could finally move, everything grew fuzzier and darker, and I tried to lunge forward to help Kudou, but I only fell backwards.
Before I was thrown down the hard, marble stairs, I cried, "Shinichi!"
I usually didn't remember my dreams.