Fwumph!
The cobalt blue comforter whipped through the air and collapsed off the side of the bed. The fist that knocked the linen away stood taught, lining up perfectly with the right edge of the door frame and with the strained eyes of the young man breathing heavy breaths. After the fourth respiration, he regained his composure, but kept his balled-up hand at the ready as he took in everything around him. Gone were the flickering torches, torn-up forest ground, and low hums, unintelligible words, and a distant laugh that made his blood run cold before a dark purple flash overtook his vision and brought forth pain that encompassed his entire body. Familiar sights and sensations greeted him now even in the darkness – the outline of the dented chair sitting cattycornered from the desk, the sweet smell of a soda bottle not properly sealed, the cool rush of the air conditioner humming throughout the farmhouse.
Link lowered his fist and took a long look at it, his hand beginning to quiver as he extended each finger. Nearly every night for the past two weeks, he dreamt of the same scene that made him bolt up in the middle of the night. Each time, he became more and more defensive, like there was something he had to fight, but he just couldn't see it. He felt it, but he just couldn't see it.
"Wait…" he said to himself. "There was something different this time. I haven't shaken this badly before… What could it…"
Eeenh! Eeenh! Eeenh! Eeenh!
Even trains of thought had to brake for the shrill sound of the alarm clock. Link clambered over the left side of his bed and pressed the button on his digital clock to silence the daily 5:00 AM song.
"Five in the morning instead of two," Link said through a yawn. "That must be it."