A/N Time to repost this fanfiction on my current profile, I'm basically going to touch up some of the grammar and possibly rearrange a few words but other than that it's going to be the same fanfiction. That, and edit out those embarrassingly long author notes.
That being said, the image I'm using for cover art DOESN'T belong to me. It was commissioned on deviantART by me and I have their permission to use it. Seeing as it's sized for something else in the future I will probably commission something more fitting.
"Claris Sinclair, tell me about these 'Dreams' you've been having." The therapist questioned the pink haired girl in his everyday monotone.
Claris had been strangely silent through this ordeal but when her eyes locked on to Mr. Cole's eyes with tears ready to spill down her cheeks she spoke quietly and quickly," They're not dreams- they're Nightmares."
Mr. Cole looked down on her and shook his head; he had awaited this type of a response, "That doesn't answer my question, Ms. Sinclair."
On the other side of the door Claris heard her mother's soft weeping, it weighed her heart down that encouraged her thoughts like 'Did I cause that? Why? Did I do something to be taken too counseling?' Honestly with all her heart Claris didn't have the slightest clue as to why she was taken to this place, the last thing she remembered was her life being happy, she had finally conquered stage fright and had gotten on stage. That was a good thing, right?
Just the memory of her concert made her feel a bit better; enough to let a small smile crease her lips into a smile. The dreamer could imagine herself standing on stage singing to a roaring crowd, the confidence she knew she had. The clear memory of the songs sound seemed to play itself to her and she began tapping her school shoes on the tile. Soon she found herself day dreaming about it her eyes closed as she leaned back into her chair letting the sweet thoughts consume her and carry her off to a sweeter, brighter world. She was completely unaware of the fact she was in a light hazy sleep, it made her feel like she had been dropped in a new world, and all she had to worry about was her solo.
The crowd chanted for more and she leaned in to the microphone and closed her eyes before she raised her voice making it as loud as she could. The crowd continued cheering until the music faded out and Claris sang her last note. As she re-opened her eyes she saw no one, just an empty concert room and garbage and paper left to be blown all over the vacant lot, wind finding its way in through the open roof. After a few eerie moments of looking around she saw a tall black figure that clapped loudly. Claris tilted her head to the side; even from a distance they seemed to be taller than any human being she had ever met.
Without much of a warning the figure raced towards her, but it seemed that this was done without lifting a foot. Within moments he was right beside her and was inching toward her getting ready to grab her, butterflies were in her stomach as she held her breath.
The therapist noticed that she was spacing out, "Are you okay?" He questioned raising his eyebrows.
In the nightmare the figure grabbed her shoulders and shook her gently. It was odd but it frightened her greatly nonetheless, "NO!" She screamed petrified as she struggled to break his grasp. Little did she know she had not just screamed that in her dream, but she had also screamed that for Mr. Cole and her family to hear.
Mr. Cole let his emotionless façade slip by allowing a sadistic smile, Claris was seemed more insane to him with every passing minute of her presence. This was a good sign to him; he had been almost bankrupt in fact. He knew it only took one case to make someone famous, and this he hoped was that kind of case. The head line had his name all over it, he would help Claris. Or at least improve her behavior in the world's eyes.
Mr. Cole reached for a clip board and starting scribbling down notes the scratch of the pen against paper was enough to find its way into the pink haired girls dream. She struggled even more.
After moments of struggling in both worlds she jerked up looking straight ahead, she was slightly surprised to see the white wall covered in posters. She shook her head almost believing it would shake her fears away from her. Claris kept mentally telling herself she wasn't afraid, NiGHTS had helped her and everything was okay. But what if the help had only been temporarily? Was it just another passing comfort?
Mr. Cole noticed she was pretty much awake. He decided now would be the time to press her for answers, "Then what is you're most reoccurring 'nightmare'?"
The dreamer took her time to consider her answer," I-"She suddenly stopped and put her hands in her lap. Every second felt like a minute to the duo as the dreamer clenched her hands and made her knuckles a white color.
"Would it be easier to write it down?" He suggested still hopeful to get to the bottom of this mystery at some point.
Slowly the dreamer nodded in approval before shooting a quick glance at the clip board in his lap then at the door. Gingerly he fingered the pen and reached for another clip board with his empty hand and handed it to Claris. She seemed hesitant, yet once the cold pen was in her hand she found it easier to write then she had anticipated. The pen felt like it glided across the paper filling every space with ink words that told her fear.
'For some reason my school has a school field trip to a museum, it was mandatory. Even though I was with my entire grade, I felt alone. Like a piece of me had been missing. No matter how loud and how much I listened to my class mates chatter among themselves I heard this bizarre hum right in my ear like a bumble bees buzz but with more of a hum. The artifacts all have these blank expressions and I feel like their eyes are following me. At some point I see something that stands out and I end up going towards it and I'm separated from the group. I had no control over my body in this dream I just watched knowing how it will end. The display case will be build up high rather than out. Inside I see slight movement and something trembles. It presses itself against the glass and breathes heavily on the glass fogging it up. In the distance I can hear the voices of my class mates growing quieter with each passing minute. Then on the foggy glass he writes with his hand in big and tall letters 'HELP ME' I couldn't stop myself I felt pity for this being I reached out and put my hand over the glass where his was. His hand was huge in comparison to mine. All the sound stopped, I heard this raspy whisper 'Before it's too late…' All was silent for several minutes. Then the ground broke beneath my feet the tile slowly being ripped in all directions and I began falling back first as I reached up for the mysterious being. I keep falling and falling for the rest of the night and the artifacts laugh and fall after me, the one's with arms reach for me and the weapons try to hit me. This continues until an artifact kills me. And no matter what it is, it's always more painful than the last.'
"Are you done yet?" He was growing ever so impatient.
"Y-Yes." Her whole body shook as if she had leaped into a tub of ice, she handed him the clip board anyway. Once she felt it leave her hands she felt a great deal of pressure leave, but she still knew tonight the dream would happen again, and again.
With a wave of his hand the pink haired girl knew she had been dismissed to leave the room. Claris did not waste her time running to the door and opening it. In the waiting room her mother had her head on her father's shoulder and whispered through sobs.
Claris felt guilt, it was her fault after all at least from what she could tell, "C'mon, Mom let's go home."
Mrs. Sinclair shot a look at her with her blood shot eyes, the pupils were slits where as her irises were drained of their used to be vibrant blue. They seemed a steely dried up blue color. The three of them spent the walk to their car in silence, and drove silently to their house.
Hours had passed, the only thing that really happened in those hours had been the silence that followed her everywhere she went, and she had escaped to her bedroom. Claris lay in bed staring at the ceiling with her hands behind her head. It was 8:30 PM but it was already getting dark outside. The night before Claris had tried to stay awake the entire time. She had almost succeeded but in the end right when the sun found itself back in the sky she dozed off and was awakened by her alarm clock minutes later. Throughout the day she battled sleep away and her teachers noticed and reported her to the nurse, which in turn reported her to Mr. Cole. This caused another domino to fall triggering a phone call to two different business locations which both of her parents worked at.
This wasn't the first time she hardly got any sleep, this streak had continued for days. So right now despite it being so early sleep vigorously fought to claim her as its own. The wind howled through her slightly open window and played with the curtains. The howls through the trees and anything in its path seemed to form words to Claris's ears. Her eyes shifted back and forth and tried to find a figure that was howling words to her. Minutes past and the words began to form lucid sentences.
"Sleep, Claris, Sleep my dear." It howled in despair. Maybe she was crazy.
She sat up and tried to tell herself the voice wasn't there. She tried to occupy her mind with something more logical so she scanned her room. It was just how she had arranged it. Her bed frame was against the wall and both sides of the bed had no wall against them. On the left side of her bed was a nightstand with a pink lamp and beside that was her small alarm clock with flashing red letters. On the opposite side of the wall as her bed frame was a small wooden desk that had her lap top and other supplies, along with a picture of Elliot and her. In her mind it was a fading memory so to remind herself she had placed the picture on her desk. The wall to the right of the desk had a window with the bigger cushioned seal and white silky curtains. Next to the window was a walk in closet that had another door on the inside that led to another bathroom that was accessibly through a door next to her bedroom door as well. On the opposite wall as the window was the door out and next to it was a chair that had an extra white blanket slung over it.
The pink haired girl spent moments fidgeting with the quilt of her bed before putting two and two together. It looked exactly like a certain Nightmaren she knew, one that had left memories worth forgetting that made invisible scars she hid. It looked like Jackle's mantle. The knowledge comforted her despite the fact aside from Wizeman Jackle was the biggest threat to her. The fact her fear had a name and a face and a weakness she knew was a very good sign to the dreamer.
She soaked in the thought for a while before she understood even more of the puzzle. Jackle had been pretty tall always towering above average sized human's height. So it fit the two figures in her dreams.
Then another thought hit her head on, 'Why would Jackle need my help?' followed by another," Even if it was an entity of dreams how could he survive through all of…that?"
The wind howled again as if to answer her questions," Dreams can never die, nor can nightmares. Now sleep."
She obeyed and gave in to a fight that was only natural to lose.
This time her dream was different. It was a sign that compelled her to give the Nightmaren a single chance, but she knew she shouldn't jump to conclusions about someone who was supposedly insane. After all, she was in the same situation denying insanity yet some signs of its existence were undoubtedly present.
She was falling like the end of her dream but instead she was going head first, stomach facing the ground. It was the end of her dream but opposite and oddly enough it felt like a new beginning. The dreamer closed her eyes and let the chilly air tug her hair up. Claris wondered what awaited her at the end, or the beginning. As if controlled by someone else instinctively Claris tried to position herself so she would land on her feet, it happened in the nick of time with no real answer or explanation. Although she wasn't one to second guess something that saved her from potential harm.
Drowsily she lifted her eyelids to find a dark place, one that made her feel trapped. Those thoughts made her frightened a bit. Who wouldn't have a trace of fear after a long history of Nightmares and then you find yourself in the dark, vulnerable in every way?
Hot breath was blown on the back of her neck, it was a playful and not quite a harmful gesture but Claris tensed up all the same. All she wanted was to get away. Quickly she took a stiff step forward and hit her nose on a thick glass like wall. In a matter of seconds she stumbled back into the other 'persons' arms.
Without question his grip tightened around her. Claris couldn't help but noticed the way he held her as if they were longtime friends; he was slightly cold but not freezing temperatures comparable to that of a long dead corpse. The dreamer pressed her back against his stomach in an attempt to try and warm him for a reason unknown to even herself.
For a second she had forgotten what her suspicions had been until one arm raised way up above both their heads, and tugged on a chain that dangled from the ceiling. The light clicked on and flickered causing short moments of blackness. Through the glass she could see out to where she had been standing in her dreams. The floor had a huge circular hole that had artifacts falling through it one after another. It didn't take much effort to notice the red clouds that seemed to swirl around each object as if searching for something.
'Someone seems more plausible...'
The person holding her from behind loosened his grip, as if putting trust in that she wouldn't run, or at least make an attempt to. Questions bubbled in the pit of her stomach as soon as she felt the strong arms leave her. The dreamer spun on her heels to face him, and she had nothing to say. Nowhere to hide.
Suspicions confirmed she stared in awe at the Nightmaren that had once haunted her dreams.
He was almost the same as last time, same height, and everything. Although the little he did wore had changed. His cloak had almost stayed the same aside from its fading colors and the tips seemed torn, almost singed to a blackish hue. Claris could see brief glimpses of pockets on the inside of the cloak, or 'mantle' as Jackle referred to it. On his left arm was a stray piece of cloth, it was a light blue and as tattered at the edges and singed as well. It was tied right about at the shoulder, and looked like a really old, tattered, faded, blue ribbon. It proved to the Dreamer he had a body just as the feeling of arms around her had. Where his old chocker was he had a new one, it was the same as his old one except in the middle was three dominos lined up side by side. The domino in the middle had a hole in the bottom that had another chain loop with a card dangling. The card was about the size of one of his normal tarot cards; except it had vines that tangled with each other on the sides with the occasional upside down heart leaf. In the middle of the card was a tall black figure that could easily be recognized as Jackle, with his arm back and ready to throw another tarot card. Above his head was 'JACKLE' in all big letters. His gloves looked the same but just like everything else slightly altered.
The tip of the fingers looked about ready to rip from the pointed claws beneath. And where the glove narrowed into five fingers was blue thread that had gaps in between it, as if sewn by the hands of a beginner in craftsmanship.
"I've been waiting for you Claris." His arms moved back to hold her loosely his warm breath returning to her neck.
Fear returning she struggled against his grip managing to wiggle herself away," Let go of me you insane freak!"
"Who are you to judge if I'm sane or not, there's a fine line between insane, and creative, dear Claris. But the line between love and hate is even thinner."
Her eyes met the teal eyes of Jackle her mouth open slightly. Whatever he intended to accomplish with that line really made Claris weary," What the hell do you want?"
"You are quite the intelligent girl I thought you would have figured it out. I need your help."
Claris furrowed her eyebrows and rubbed her temple. Nightmaren weren't exactly a species for teamwork," Would a guy like you need my help for?"
"These voices, they won't leave me alone, I must know why they are here."
She paused for a moment taking a moment to look him up and down, sure she couldn't even dream to take him on herself but what would he have to gain from making himself out to be schizophrenic?
"Sure, I'll help you just like you helped me."
Jackle seemed furious the only thing more frightening than his laughter and smiles seemingly 24/7," Nightmaren are creatures of repetition you see, if my words do nothing I will be forced to plague your mind with nightmares. In rejecting an alliance, you have brought this on yourself 'dear.'" He spits the word dear with hatred his eyes narrowing at the dreamer.
With a snap of his fingers she jerked up in her bed.
She already feels the regret begin to settle in her gut, her body shaking as she begins to desperately wish she had just taken his offer while she had the opportunity.