A sharp jar against his head woke the thirteen year old up from a deep slumber. Shinjo opened his eyes with bored abandon as he gazed out at the moonlit plains that seemed to stretch out forever ahead of him. A cold wind whipped his kimono to slap against his face and expose bare flesh to the icy air. After a moment the teen realized he had fallen off a rock that he had supposedly slept on despite remembering crawling into the bed of his godparent’s home. Yet, there was no trace of confusion in Shinjo’s deep red eyes as he rolled up into a sitting position. The youth held his right hand out and touched the ground laid out before him. Rolled his fingers through the grass, gripped a loose rock, even dig his fingers into the dirt; the last made his heart rate pick up.
These were illusions. Tricks of his mind that made him believe he was somewhere else in the world instead of where he last fell asleep. It was a problem of the teen, long before he had moved into Kumo, but since his exposure to the high altitudes the episodes had begun to increase. Doctors were calling them night terrors, but to him, they were far more than that. Depending on how real everything felt was how long these nightmares last. Usually, digging his fingers into the ground gave him the security of his location, but tonight it appeared the realm he saw had dragged him deep inside once more. He stood up now, knowing that he was still in his own house, but the moonlit plain before him remained the same. A small panic began to settle in the boy’s stomach as he considered just holding still until someone found him, but knew that too was impossible. Time flowed however the creature that kept dragging him here wanted it to flow. The cold wind drove down on Shinjo again, and with clenched fists, he began to stride forward into the open plains. At first, he darted from left to right, ran as fast as he could, did everything in his power to run into a wall in the home he hoped he was still inside of, but inevitably, the child wound up exactly where he didn’t want to be. Even when he tried to slam himself into the boulders that dotted the mysterious plans he simply dashed right through them. Now, Shinjo looked up at the very trees his father used to cut.
Across the plains he so brazenly ran through was a dark pine forest that blocked the moonlight. Inside of this forest was something the boy was terrified of. He had no idea what it was, only that whatever it was, it wanted him dead. Shinjo tried to turn around to go back the way he came only to find the pine trees wrapped around, as if he had already walked past the dreaded tree line. The small panic in his gut turned into an outright attack as his heart dove into the same pit. Without a single moment’s hesitation the boy began to dart through the trees, his heart thumping so hard he wanted to vomit. Without looking back he could feel that something stalking right at his heels, just barely keeping up. The Tsukinowa absolutely felt something horrible breathing down his neck, a claw cut at his ankle, and a swipe that just grazed his kimono. Shijo’s bare feet pounded harder against the stick and stone ground as he raced to outrun whatever evil barreled down after its easy meal. Then, just like that, he blinked and was staring back at the tree line; his sudden stop making him drop to his knees and roll a little. Shin slowly raised himself back up to stare at the pines again, and dared to turn his back again to see if the plains he had walked from was there; this time they were.
The snap of a tree branch made his body jump. Cold sweat soaked his small clothes as he grit his teeth and turned, slowly, to try and witness was stalked the trees with the nauseating force of killing intent. His body stiffened up, red eyes sweeping left and right, but they saw nothing. The panic returned with gusto with the sound of a sudden heavy wet thud at his hands drawing sudden attention down. The balding severed head and trident beard of his father stared up at his son with dead, guilt stricken eyes. Shinjo grabbed the temples of his head that began to pound to the point of explosion as he let out a scream. The boy jumped back and felt something hard strike against his back. The top of his head slammed against cold stone, jarring his eyes to remove the visions of horror and replace them with the plaza of shops surrounding the statue of Aion. Nearly all the shops were closed save a few late night eateries and maybe a convenience store or two. His confused eyes looked around at the area of city he had not been before and wondered how long it was going to take tonight to find his way home; again.
[MFT]
These were illusions. Tricks of his mind that made him believe he was somewhere else in the world instead of where he last fell asleep. It was a problem of the teen, long before he had moved into Kumo, but since his exposure to the high altitudes the episodes had begun to increase. Doctors were calling them night terrors, but to him, they were far more than that. Depending on how real everything felt was how long these nightmares last. Usually, digging his fingers into the ground gave him the security of his location, but tonight it appeared the realm he saw had dragged him deep inside once more. He stood up now, knowing that he was still in his own house, but the moonlit plain before him remained the same. A small panic began to settle in the boy’s stomach as he considered just holding still until someone found him, but knew that too was impossible. Time flowed however the creature that kept dragging him here wanted it to flow. The cold wind drove down on Shinjo again, and with clenched fists, he began to stride forward into the open plains. At first, he darted from left to right, ran as fast as he could, did everything in his power to run into a wall in the home he hoped he was still inside of, but inevitably, the child wound up exactly where he didn’t want to be. Even when he tried to slam himself into the boulders that dotted the mysterious plans he simply dashed right through them. Now, Shinjo looked up at the very trees his father used to cut.
Across the plains he so brazenly ran through was a dark pine forest that blocked the moonlight. Inside of this forest was something the boy was terrified of. He had no idea what it was, only that whatever it was, it wanted him dead. Shinjo tried to turn around to go back the way he came only to find the pine trees wrapped around, as if he had already walked past the dreaded tree line. The small panic in his gut turned into an outright attack as his heart dove into the same pit. Without a single moment’s hesitation the boy began to dart through the trees, his heart thumping so hard he wanted to vomit. Without looking back he could feel that something stalking right at his heels, just barely keeping up. The Tsukinowa absolutely felt something horrible breathing down his neck, a claw cut at his ankle, and a swipe that just grazed his kimono. Shijo’s bare feet pounded harder against the stick and stone ground as he raced to outrun whatever evil barreled down after its easy meal. Then, just like that, he blinked and was staring back at the tree line; his sudden stop making him drop to his knees and roll a little. Shin slowly raised himself back up to stare at the pines again, and dared to turn his back again to see if the plains he had walked from was there; this time they were.
The snap of a tree branch made his body jump. Cold sweat soaked his small clothes as he grit his teeth and turned, slowly, to try and witness was stalked the trees with the nauseating force of killing intent. His body stiffened up, red eyes sweeping left and right, but they saw nothing. The panic returned with gusto with the sound of a sudden heavy wet thud at his hands drawing sudden attention down. The balding severed head and trident beard of his father stared up at his son with dead, guilt stricken eyes. Shinjo grabbed the temples of his head that began to pound to the point of explosion as he let out a scream. The boy jumped back and felt something hard strike against his back. The top of his head slammed against cold stone, jarring his eyes to remove the visions of horror and replace them with the plaza of shops surrounding the statue of Aion. Nearly all the shops were closed save a few late night eateries and maybe a convenience store or two. His confused eyes looked around at the area of city he had not been before and wondered how long it was going to take tonight to find his way home; again.
[MFT]
