10/01: Distort

A/N: Yoni babuyee - The Xaranian equivalent of “the bogey man,” used to refer to the creature(s) seen in sleep paralysis dreams.

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It’d started after Ery came home again from that weird challenge.

No, not that Ery himself was being weird; I meant the dreams. I’ve really never had many nightmares and even the times I did have them, Ery would always be there to comfort me. Even when he was away, participating in that weird challenge, I didn’t have any weird dreams -- and then it happened.

I’m trapped, immobilized to my bed as the tendrils of sickeningly red mist seep into every corner of my bedroom. At first, I only thought, Eh, it’s just some old ‘Yoni babuyee’ as Ery calls it, it’s nothing I’ve not faced before.

But something seems worse about it than some sleep demon paying me a visit. I’ve always ... let’s just say, I’ve familiar with demons haunting me. I’ve had one hunt me down for years and he’s only stopped now because I’ve been laying low ... I still look over my shoulder, too.

This really felt ... too real, yet not real? Even the room I was in, the room that was once my deathbed, it didn’t feel quite there. Things moved, twisted, and slowly rotated as if something were reading me. I’ve had experience being a ghost, for the record, so I know a thing or two about messing with people and making them see things. Though I was the one on the giving end, not the receiving, it leaves people drained. They often would say their head felt “tingly,” “fuzzy,” and very “creeped out,” and I guess it was my turn.

It kept laughing, laughing at me as the pounding in my head ebbed and flowed like it was a pulsating creature. Something inside the mist was forming, but I can’t see it; the only sensation I feel is a total disconnection from myself and my physical body. Something is contorting, I can feel the pain of something twitching uncontrollably, feeling my strength leave me as I continue to lay on my literal death bed before the smell of something burning hits my nose.

And then I’m awake.

I’m right beside Ery with Mercedes perking up from his sleep and tilting his white head at me in concern. A cold sweat runs down the back of my neck, as I shakily stumble out of bed and rinse my face with cold water to remind myself that I’m still alive and I’m not stuck in some strange limbo; at least that’s what I want to believe. As I make my way to our bathroom everything about my surroundings feels dangerous, like something is an illusion but it’s hidden in plain sight to my eyes.

I don’t know why I feel this way, and it doesn’t leave me until hours later after I sat on the toilet seat, staring at everything and just waiting, waiting for something to come out and get me. That’s what they don’t tell you about all of this; it’s not the threat of something actually attacking you, it’s the threat of something lurking.

I’ve had a bad past, where I may or may not have nearly ended the world because I made a pact with a Wyrm of Pestilence and actual Devil Arcana himself because I didn’t want to die. I wanted power, fame, amour, and immortality and I was stupid and didn’t think straight when I should have; I burned Ery at one point when he got sick because I just wanted to--not that I’d ever do that again, I’d rather burn myself.

In that past I’ve had, dealing with demons, Wyrms, bugs, and being a ghost, I learned a thing or two about how these guys work. It’s not like the movies, where they just make their presence known--no, never. They want to toy with you, watch you run away until you’re absolutely cornered and they can do whatever they want to do to you. They watch you run and wither away until they trap in their realm with your lover and try to possess you, and you can’t do anything becuase--I’m getting off -track now.

It’s weird because the whole time I just ... it was the bedroom but it was not. It was the human realm, but it was not. It was the Arcane Realm, yet it was not. Someone ... something ... was messing with me; I could feel it and I know what it’s like to be the one doing that to people. It’s bigger than me if what my gut was telling me was right; far bigger than I could ever imagine but maybe ... maybe it’ll leave me alone.

I’ve got my poochies, Mercedes and Melchior, with me and I also have Ery here too and he knows lots about magic and the Arcana more than I do. I’ll be safe with them, I don’t need to be afraid ... I can’t be afraid. You can’t show fear to spirits and Arcana, all it does is make them stronger and make you more vulnerable.

Even as I write this, something is ... something’s wrong. I just don’t feel safe, but I don’t wanna think about it. Ery’s in the bathroom right now, but I swear I can feel it down the corridor to my old, abandoned bedroom from years ago. I’m not going down to that place today, not unless Ery is there with me. I don’t think he can tell, but I’m sitting outside the door just waiting for him to be done.

As I sit staring at our room, I can feel my heart racing out of unease ... the only thing that keeps me company is the pitter-patter of water as Ery is washing himself and the small little tunes I hear him hum sometimes. Mercedes and Melchior have left the room, I think they went to the back of the Magic Shop, probably using the bathroom on the backyard.

That’s ... what I’m supposed to believe, right? That’s what I’m supposed to fall for, but it’s all warped now. I kind of noticed that one of the poochies just ... looked at me funny? But maybe it’s just me, maybe it’s nothing at all and that stupid whatever-it-was just messed with my head that much to the point I’m getting scared of everything. That’s what I want to tell myself, I’m trying so hard to tell myself whatever messed with me last night didn’t mess me up that bad.

But that’s the thing everything seems different now, and I can’t tell if it means I’m just losing it because some creature attacked me or if I’m being in the right here.

I should tell Ery. I really should tell Ery ...

No, nevermind; I won’t, I don’t need to. It’s all just nothing, right? Everything is normal, everything is fine--we’re past that phase of running away from The Devil and saving the world from an impending apocalypse because of a ritual. It was just some bad dream and it was just lowly spirit one-upping me because I’m just too great that I had to be one-upped. That’s all it was, that’s all it ever was.

I’m gonna stop writing in this piece of paper now, I mean, I might as well throw out the whole notebook, really. I’m not gonna be writing in this hunk of scrap ever again, and it’s not like I’m gonna share this with anyone.

Okay, fine. I’ll hold onto it for just a little while.