Author's Note: I don't own anything. Point blank.
FYI: It's still Monday.
SHANNON'S NOT FEELING SO HOT
Shannon Moore leaned his head against the pillow, staring up at his poster-plastered ceiling. Kurt Cobain was all over the place, along with Aerosmith and Linkin Park. He sighed, rolling over to his left side. He was now facing his oak computer desk, which was covered in all kinds of drawings and stickers. His computer sat on top, the screen on. His computer background was a sketch of him and Trish that Jeff had drawn and scanned for him. He sighed, rolling back onto his back with his hands folded behind his head. His green eyes gazed at the picture of Nirvana's raspy-sounding vocalist, closing slightly as he drifted off to sleep.
---Shannon's Nightmare---
"Shanny...Shanny...We're coming for you." A ghostly voice sang, as Shannon Moore looked around his bedroom. Instead of the usual posters on his walls, the walls were now white and padded. Shannon gasped, trying to feel around, but it was no use. He was in a straight jacket. Shannon's green eyes looked to where he was sitting, on the white floor. His room had turned into a room at a pyschiatric ward. Shannon used his legs to get him up, running rapidly around the very small room. "Shanny..." The ghostly voice sang again. He looked around the room, trying to find out where it was coming from. The voice, a small young child's voice, came from the walls. Shannon stared at the walls.
"WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!" Shannon screamed, trying to break free from his straight jacket. The fourteen year-old boy struggled, but was unsuccessful. As he tried to get out of his straight jacket, an image appeared. The image was of three young girls, all with their hair in bows and little dresses. Two girls held a skipping rope, one at each side. The third girl was in the middle, jumping. Shannon looked up from the straight jacket's locks, his green eyes growing wide. He backed up against another wall, as the three little girls sang in unison.
"One...two...Randy's coming for you. Three...four...you better lock the door. Five...six...grab your crucifix. Seven...eight...better stay up late. Nine...ten...never sleep again! Dave and Randy are coming. MUAHAHAHAHA!" The girls stopped skipping, their eyes glowing red as they stared at Shannon. He screamed, as two other images came from the wall that the girls were standing. This time, the images were of Randy Orton and Dave Batista, as ghosts. They looked the same, except that he could see right through them. Shannon closed his eyes, wishing that it would all go away. Dave Batista walked over to Shannon Moore, placing his ghostly hand on his shoulder.
"Open your eyes, Shanny." Dave said, snickering. Shannon Moore opened up his eyes, just a peep to see Dave's hand on his shoulder. The blonde jumped at the sight of the large, transparent hand on his shoulder. At the sight of Shannon's jumping, Randy and Dave howled in laughter. So did the three little girls, who were now watching and pointing.
"GET AWAY!" Shannon hollered at the top of his lungs. Randy Orton shook his head, heading over to Shannon, by Dave's side.
"We don't like you. And do you know what we do to little maggots we don't like?" Randy tilted his head, asking Shannon. Shannon closed his eyes, shaking his head. He just prayed for all of it to go away. Randy turned to the little girls. "Do you girls know what we do to people we don't like?"
"KILL THEM!" The girls screamed in unison, their young and angelic voices gone. This time, they're voices were loud and rapsy, as if a demon had possessed them. Dave Batista nodded.
"That's right. So, guess what that means Shannon?" Dave questioned. Shannon didn't answer. Instead, he yelled.
"GO AWAY!" He opened his eyes, looking behind him. The fourteen year-old boy was backed into the corner, with Randy and Dave trapping him.
"Wrong! Time for you to die, Shanny Boy!" Randy laughed, pulling a knife from out of his pocket. He handed it to Dave Batista, who drew it back and then thrusted it forward, stabbing him in the heart.
---End Nightmare---
Shannon Moore popped up, his green eyes opened in shock. He looked around the room, his forehead damp with sweat. He placed his hands on his pillow, feeling that it was soaked with perspiration. He was in his room, the one filled with posters and his computer. The room was dark. Shannon Moore looked at his alarm clock, which sat on his night table by his bed. It was one thirty-seven in the morning. Shannon leaped out of bed, exiting his room to get a drink of water and a grip on his life.
FYI: It's still Monday.
SHANNON'S NOT FEELING SO HOT
Shannon Moore leaned his head against the pillow, staring up at his poster-plastered ceiling. Kurt Cobain was all over the place, along with Aerosmith and Linkin Park. He sighed, rolling over to his left side. He was now facing his oak computer desk, which was covered in all kinds of drawings and stickers. His computer sat on top, the screen on. His computer background was a sketch of him and Trish that Jeff had drawn and scanned for him. He sighed, rolling back onto his back with his hands folded behind his head. His green eyes gazed at the picture of Nirvana's raspy-sounding vocalist, closing slightly as he drifted off to sleep.
---Shannon's Nightmare---
"Shanny...Shanny...We're coming for you." A ghostly voice sang, as Shannon Moore looked around his bedroom. Instead of the usual posters on his walls, the walls were now white and padded. Shannon gasped, trying to feel around, but it was no use. He was in a straight jacket. Shannon's green eyes looked to where he was sitting, on the white floor. His room had turned into a room at a pyschiatric ward. Shannon used his legs to get him up, running rapidly around the very small room. "Shanny..." The ghostly voice sang again. He looked around the room, trying to find out where it was coming from. The voice, a small young child's voice, came from the walls. Shannon stared at the walls.
"WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!" Shannon screamed, trying to break free from his straight jacket. The fourteen year-old boy struggled, but was unsuccessful. As he tried to get out of his straight jacket, an image appeared. The image was of three young girls, all with their hair in bows and little dresses. Two girls held a skipping rope, one at each side. The third girl was in the middle, jumping. Shannon looked up from the straight jacket's locks, his green eyes growing wide. He backed up against another wall, as the three little girls sang in unison.
"One...two...Randy's coming for you. Three...four...you better lock the door. Five...six...grab your crucifix. Seven...eight...better stay up late. Nine...ten...never sleep again! Dave and Randy are coming. MUAHAHAHAHA!" The girls stopped skipping, their eyes glowing red as they stared at Shannon. He screamed, as two other images came from the wall that the girls were standing. This time, the images were of Randy Orton and Dave Batista, as ghosts. They looked the same, except that he could see right through them. Shannon closed his eyes, wishing that it would all go away. Dave Batista walked over to Shannon Moore, placing his ghostly hand on his shoulder.
"Open your eyes, Shanny." Dave said, snickering. Shannon Moore opened up his eyes, just a peep to see Dave's hand on his shoulder. The blonde jumped at the sight of the large, transparent hand on his shoulder. At the sight of Shannon's jumping, Randy and Dave howled in laughter. So did the three little girls, who were now watching and pointing.
"GET AWAY!" Shannon hollered at the top of his lungs. Randy Orton shook his head, heading over to Shannon, by Dave's side.
"We don't like you. And do you know what we do to little maggots we don't like?" Randy tilted his head, asking Shannon. Shannon closed his eyes, shaking his head. He just prayed for all of it to go away. Randy turned to the little girls. "Do you girls know what we do to people we don't like?"
"KILL THEM!" The girls screamed in unison, their young and angelic voices gone. This time, they're voices were loud and rapsy, as if a demon had possessed them. Dave Batista nodded.
"That's right. So, guess what that means Shannon?" Dave questioned. Shannon didn't answer. Instead, he yelled.
"GO AWAY!" He opened his eyes, looking behind him. The fourteen year-old boy was backed into the corner, with Randy and Dave trapping him.
"Wrong! Time for you to die, Shanny Boy!" Randy laughed, pulling a knife from out of his pocket. He handed it to Dave Batista, who drew it back and then thrusted it forward, stabbing him in the heart.
---End Nightmare---
Shannon Moore popped up, his green eyes opened in shock. He looked around the room, his forehead damp with sweat. He placed his hands on his pillow, feeling that it was soaked with perspiration. He was in his room, the one filled with posters and his computer. The room was dark. Shannon Moore looked at his alarm clock, which sat on his night table by his bed. It was one thirty-seven in the morning. Shannon leaped out of bed, exiting his room to get a drink of water and a grip on his life.