"Dude, Kenny, you okay?" Kyle asked, turning to sit sideways in his seat so he could face the blonde, a concerned look on his face. The pen that had been threatening to drop finally slipped from Kenny's fatigued fingers. He rolled his eyes over to look at the redhead, his head following suit a few seconds later, the commands from his brain sluggish in reaching the intended targets.

"Huh?" He asked, for some reason not really understanding the question asked. Kyle nudged his shoulder with his hand.

"Are you okay?" He asked again slowly, looking more concerned. Kenny yawned and ran a hand down the middle of his face, as if trying to dispel the fatigue.

"Oh, yeah. I just had a hard time sleeping again last night." Kyle made an unconvinced noise and narrowed his eyes slightly as if searching for something in Kenny's face.

"This has been going on for two weeks, dude. Are you SURE there's not something going on at home?" Kenny offered him a tired grin.

"Nah, I've got so used to shit goin' on at home that I can sleep through it now. Iunno. It's probably just one of those stages where you can't go to sleep or somethin'." He mumbled, wondering if what he'd said made sense to Kyle, cos it sure as hell didn't make any sense to him. In fact, nothing had made sense all day. He was amazed he could even produce a semi-coherent thought. Were they coherent? Was he just rambling a bunch of nonsensical shit? He decided to give up trying to figure it out, and instead stared blankly at Kyle's hat, wondering why it was so green.

Kyle didn't look convinced, but didn't press it further, much to the blonde's relief. "Well, we're in math. I mean, you usually sleep through this class anyway. Why don't you take a nap or something?" He suggested, using his pencil to indicate Kenny's desk. Kenny shook his head slowly.

"Nah, I'm fine. Probably wouldn't be able to sleep anyway." Even as he said these words, his eyes burned with the need to sleep, his whole body screaming at him to just lay his head on the desk and get some much needed rest. He repeated no, I can't. Something bad will happen. Over and over again in his head, but in his sleep-fogged mind, he couldn't remember what it was. He wondered if maybe whatever sleep would bring would really be so bad. His mind was adamant, however, in keeping him awake. He turned his head back toward the projector at the front of the classroom, placing his chin on his untouched paper, staring blearily as the teacher rambled on about something having to do with numbers…numbers…letters….signs….

It was dark. Kenny ran down a dark hallway, even as he sucked in air, his lungs never seemed to be filled. They felt cold, as if someone had poured ice into them. It hurt to breathe. Even though it hurt, he ran. Ran from whatever was following him. He could feel it. Always watching him, every hair on his body standing at attention from the hateful eyes. He could hear the breathing. The heavy, rattling breaths that seemed to never draw closer, and yet never retreat. They quickened with excitement from the hunt, the terrifying rattling worsening, causing Kenny to quicken his pace.

Suddenly, Kenny broke free of the hallway into a poorly lit room….a basement. It was unfinished, save for one narrow wall that was made of bricks stacked from the floor to the ceiling. Split beams of wood, pieces of drywall and various tools lay abandoned, scattered as if left in a hurry. Kenny felt a chill run up his spine as he heard a low, raspy laugh, mocking him as it retreated into the shadows. He looked frantically for a way out, but saw none, except for the hallway he had come in from. He looked at the drywall on the floor and vaguely wondered why someone would build a basement out of flimsy drywall, but build one wall out of brick. It was as if…they wanted to hide something.

Kenny's thoughts were interrupted by a low, tortured moan. His head jerked up, anxiously looking for the source of the sound. There was silence as the moan died, hanging in the air, then there was the sudden, frantic sound of muffled scratching against a thick surface. Kenny's head jerked toward the brick wall as the moaning started again, one chilling thought racing across his mind.

Something's trying to get out.

Horrified, Kenny started to back away as the moaning began to turn into terrified yells, the scratching turning into dull thuds. Even though every fiber of Kenny's being told him to run, he found himself reaching down for a sledgehammer that lay beside him. He picked up the heavy tool, his legs working against his will to bring him to stand directly in front of the bricks. He fought , trying desperately to retract his arms as they lifted, bringing the sledgehammer up beside his head and bringing it down heavily upon the bricks with a thud, denting the area slightly. Kenny could feel the shock of the tool hitting the sturdy wall all through is limbs, his arms using a strength he didn't know he possessed.

Kenny's arms trembled as he tried desperately to stop them from lifting the sledgehammer up again. It was no use. It was as if someone much stronger were puppeteering his arms, forcing them to work against his will. He slammed the tool down against the brick again, harder than before, and a small section of the brick caved inward, revealing darkness.

Kenny's arms continued their relentless motions, breaking in the wall where he knew something terrible lie in wait. It wasn't until his arms lifted for the last time that he realized that the yells and thuds had stopped. Fear gripped his chest in an iron grip as he brought the sledgehammer down on the last bit of remaining wall.

His grip on the tool loosened until it slipped from his fingers, landing with a loud clang on the cement floor. As it fell to it's side, Kenny's arms hung limply at his sides, feeling like lead from the excursions. He stared into the blackness of the newly destroyed wall, his feet keeping him rooted to the spot.

As he looked on, he saw one side of a face emerge from the shadows, the skin pale and rotting, the blue eyes lightened by blindness and decay. He wanted to yell, to run, but his body prevented him from doing either. Suddenly, the face turned toward the ground, a body following as it fell to the ground at Kenny's feet where it lay unmoving.

Kenny stared in horror, recognizing the torn and bloody red flannel shirt, the ripped jeans and torn sneakers...

He reached down and turned the body over, a scream catching in his throat at the sight of the bloodsoaked blonde hair, the familar face laid open on the right side in what looked like claw marks starting from his mouth and ending just below his eye.

The head beneath him turned, the almost milky eyes focusing on him as the pale, decayed lips turned up in a cruel smile, the skin around the mouth corroding and snapping, blood flowing sluggishly down the face as the thread thin muscles underneath were revealed, trembling gruesomely with the effort to stay whole.

As Kenny stared into his own face, his lungs seized up on him, held in a vice-like grip. He closed his eyes against his labored breathing. They snapped open again when he felt himself shoved backward, tripping over something that seemed as though it should be familiar. He looked down and realized that what he'd tripped over was a brick...and that he was now in the hole of the destroyed wall. He quickly scrambled up, but as he tried to step over the short remaining line of brick at his feet, his legs stopped as if they'd become glued to the floor. He watched, petrified as the bricks that lay scattered around him lifted, as if being picked up by an invisible force, and began to stack themselves one on top of the other.

Kenny saw something move, and flicked his gaze to the side. He watched as the body laying just a few feet in front of him sat up in jerky motions, that cruel smile still in place as it focused its eyes on him again. It slowly rose to its feet, eyes never leaving Kenny's face as it slowly closed the distance between them, the bricks continuing their torture, almost to Kenny's shoulders now.

The horrific parody opened its mouth, emitting a thick gurgling sound that made every inch of Kenny's body tingle in heightened fear.

"Kennnyy..." It rasped thickly as the bricks reached his neck, the darkness around him growing as he began to shove at the bricks, his breath coming in short, scared gasps, his throat constricting with each scream he tried to omit.

"Kenny..." It rasped again as the bricks covered his face, leaving him with the lasting impression of those dead, contemptuous eyes and that vindictive smile as the air became thick and heavy, leaving him to gasp for the oxygen that wouldn't fill his lungs.

"Kennyyy..."

"Kenny!" Kenny jerked awake, his head flying off the desk in frantic haste, quickly shoving the hand gripping is shoulder off as he pulled his shirt out to look at it, relief flooding through him as he realized it was the black shirt partially covered by his orange hoodie he'd put on that morning. He panted as if he'd just run a mile, feeling the sweat run down his neck as he turned his wide eyes to the hurt face of Kyle, his hand hanging in the air by Kenny's shoulder.

"J-Jesus Christ! Sorry, dude." He said to Kyle, forcing his voice to normality, even though his hands shook badly as he picked up his pen. Kyle's expression quickly changed from hurt to apprehensive as he watched his friend quickly pick up his stuff and stand, preparing to leave the now empty classroom. He saw students passing by the open door of the classroom, signifying the end of second period. As Kenny tried to walk, his legs shook and almost gave out on him. He held onto his desk for support, Kyle coming around to help him.

"Jesus, Kenny, maybe you should go home. You don't look too good..." He said fretfully as he helped Kenny out of the classroom by way of an arm around his shoulders. Kenny shook his head.

"I'm fine. Just tired." Home was the last place Kenny wanted to be. Home was where Damien could taunt him unbridled.