Elma was standing in front of the <Wishing Fountain>. It was early in the morning, though you couldn’t really tell thanks to the eternal starry sky of the Hero Hub—it just felt like morning. Regardless, I ran up to her—I really wanted to let her know and get her opinion.
“Hey, Elma,” I said as I raised my hand," I need to talk to you about something—“
“You mean about how I killed people?”
I froze up. Elma hadn’t turned to face me. She was just standing in front of the fountain.
“How—How’d you find out?” I took a step toward her. “Was it Svilran? Wait, we wanted to tell you together. I’m sorry—we were going to tell you together.”
Elma turned on her heels, and I shuddered. She was holding her dagger to her neck while looking straight at me. Tears rolled down her cheek.
“Hey, Fainn, what kind of Hero murders innocent people and doesn’t even notice?”
“Hey, no, that’s not what happened! It was an accident—“
She shook her head. “I’m not like them, Fainn. I care about good people. I can’t just close my eyes.”
She put the dagger to her neck, and blood trickled down her neck.
“Elma!”
With tears in her eyes, she asked, “What kind of person would hide that from us for so long?”
Before I could move, she ran the knife against her own throat, slitting it. Her eyes rolled toward the back of her head as she crumpled, like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
I was frozen in place. Her name was stuck in my throat. Her blood was redder than I imagined it could ever be.
“Elm—“
Someone suddenly pushed me aside as they rushed ahead of me and dropped to their knees in front of Elma’s body. The sudden impact jolted me back into my senses.
I looked at the shaking girl kneeling before Elma. “Dorthaunzee...” I reached for her.
“Whmmmmm?!”
The strange sound stopped me again. She turned toward me as small tentacles burst from her eyes, rupturing her eyeballs as they did. Sounds were coming from her head. She clawed at the space below her mouth until her finger poked through her skin like it was waxed paper.
“WHY?!” she screamed through that hole—I had never heard such a voice before.
“Wait—Dorth—“
“Why didn’t you tell us we were murderers?!”
“Wait—I just wanted to make sure—“
Dorth grabbed her own head and snapped her neck, shutting me up for good. Black tentacles ripped out from her body, and one grabbed me and hoisted me into the air by the torso.
A sound came from below, and I looked at Dorth, her head hanging at a 90-degree angle.
Her lips moved. “I...”
“Dorth!” I yelled.
A single tear rolled off her face. “I didn’t mean to—“
Another tentacle lunged for my neck and tightened around it—I couldn’t breathe. I had to use it— I had to use +Nightmares ARE Fiction+—“
Wait, nightmares?
I closed my eyes and opened them again. And when I did, the scene had changed.
Before my eyes was the ceiling of my room, and I was still unable to breathe. I looked down and found a tentacle squeezing my throat. I clawed at it until I finally pulled it off enough to suck in air.
“NIghTmaREs ARE FICTION!”
I wrestled the tentacle binding my torso until it evaporated into nightmare smoke.
“Nightmares ARE Fiction!”
I swatted at the remaining nightmare smoke.
“Nightmares ARE Fiction!”
And it was done—no more nightmares sneaking out of my head. I sat up on the bed and held my head in my hands.
I chuckled at my own torment. “Guess this is reaching deep into my head...”
“Why didn’t you tell us we were murderers?!”
I clenched my jaw. “Because I know how terrified you are of what you are.” I noticed my tears falling on the bed. “I don’t know what’s going to happen... But... I only want to bring good things into your life.”
“That woman is stronger than you know. Trust her and support her.”
I looked up and around out of reflex. No one was there.
I chuckled and shook my head. Any other person would freak out when a disembodied voice reached their ear, but not this guy. No, auditory hallucinations were pretty common for me after waking up from a nightmare.
“Even my subconscious is telling me to stop being such a coward.”
I looked to the side at my nightstand and the watermelon slice I had brought in earlier and left sitting out.
“It’s rotten. Why is it rotten? Why does this stick?” I sighed and banged my head against the wall for a bit. “Nightmares are supposed to be fiction, dammit. Stop ruining my fresh food.”
***
I surprised Svilran this morning; I asked her to call Elma down to the house. Now, I was just sitting in the living room, waiting for the two to arrive. My nightmares from last night were weighing on my mind. At this rate, I would keep having nightmares until I resolved this. In that light, I was extremely thankful I could sleep peacefully after the first bout.
Yup, the plan now was to speak with Elma and then come to a decision between the three of us. It might be a little strange to bring Elma into the decision, but Elma was essentially the commanding officer, and she, as a Hero, would eventually be making hard decisions when on missions.
“Yup, I see no reason to not bring her in... She has a perspective I might lack.” I nodded to myself. “This is the best choice.” I interlocked my fingers. “We all need to do our best—for everyone’s sakes.”
The door opened, and Elma walked in with Svilran following closely behind. Elma was wearing a simple black sweatshirt and sweatpants. She had her messy hair tied back—it was a wonderful look. Svilran, meanwhile, was wearing her nerves on her face. She was wearing an elegant white dress that made her seem confident and in control, though.
“I neglected to mention this the first time, but,” Elma said as she looked around, “you have quite the humble home.”
“It doesn’t live up to your expectations, huh?” I asked.
Elma jumped and became frantic. “N-No! Not at all! I didn’t mean any offense! Please, don’t read into that—there’s nothing wrong with being humble.”
I chided myself for thinking it was a cute reaction and then nodded at her. “It’s okay... That said, I can’t imagine living in a bigger house.” While I spoke, Svilran pulled a chair out for Elma and gestured for her to sit. “I think... I spent... seven years, maybe? Seven years living under debris or in broken buildings. This house is humble, but to me, it feels like a mansion.”
“Aww, Fainn,” Svilran said. She sat down next to me and rubbed my shoulders.
Elma locked eyes with me. “I understand. I feel blessed to have such a wonderful room. I can’t imagine anything greater at the moment.”
I chuckled bitterly. “These are the most basic forms of these dwellings, and here are two people so traumatized they can’t dare ask for more... That’s funny in a way.”
Elma chuckled. “I suppose so... Normal persons would wish for more.”
We shared a moment of silence as we wallowed. Then, Svilran stepped in.
“Hey, Fainn, didn’t we call Elma here for something important?”
I sighed. “Right.” I looked at Elma, straight-faced. “We need to tell you something about the last mission.”
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That nightmare power of Fainn is a serious double edged sword, hopefully the negative aspects could be toned down with training now that he lives in a stable environment. I doubt the conversation with the girls will be as bad as the nightmare but they will probably say a few similar things in the nightmare. Can’t wait to see what happens.
ok, so his power is somehow sentient, able to talk to him and, despite what the side effects would suggest, friendly, or at least friendly enough to give him advice
His power is deeper than he lets out. I wonder if he could turn [nightmares are fiction] into [nightmares are real] and brings horror into the real world.