◊ 3rd Contract | Dream |
Warning: Blood, Dark Imagery & a bit of thoughts not quite sane.
Effects: (optional) Feelings of horror, fear, insecurity and at the end a bit of phantom pain in your chest.
Everything was dark, cold and rather empty.
The world came into view as one scattered with broken buildings in various states of dilapidation while the sky was dark, gloomy; like no light had ever touched it’s endless depths. Oz stands in the middle of it alone and an uneasy expression is written clear all over his face as the silence is suffocating before he’s walking forwards as a chill sets in that he can’t explain. He refuses to think about it, focusing on finding his friends.
He’s not alone here… he’s got that distinct feeling like someone is watching him.
“Gilbert? Alice?...” A beat follows that as his words carry off into the empty silence and echo on forever into the darkness. Though after what seems like moments of endless silence, that feeling of loneliness starts to set in and he shakes his head, closing his eyes and starting to run forwards, eyes closed as if he was able to so easily ignore it.
He wasn’t alone here. He had his friends, his sister… he wasn’t ever alone but then yet why didn’t this empty, broken feeling go away?
“Oz. Stop running.”
That voice.. it was Gilbert’s… but when he opened his eyes, the man wasn’t there.
Oz was standing alone once again, but this time it was in a dark, candle-lit basement of sorts, several crimson-cloaked people lying on the floor entirely unconscious. A blood-red scythe is in his hands and when he steps forwards, one can hear the definitive ‘splish’ of something wet beneath his foot. It’s enough to make him stop and look down, the sight of a man’s bloody body nearby, Oz’s foot resting in the pool of blood nearby it. The sight was sickening and he moved to step back when he took in his own appearance in the blood’s reflection; something horrifying to those who had never seen him in this state before.
That scythe in hand… eyes a bloody red and pupils slitted along with an aura of death radiating off of him, no sign of kindness evident in his expression. Something Murderous lingering beneath the surface.
A killer.
Shaking his head, Oz immediately moved to step back and away from this scene of gore but a cold, clammy - and bloody - hand wrapped around his ankle and his gaze was drawn down to meet the face of the man from before. Skin pale, mottled with blood and a twisted grin that utterly mocked him in it’s entirety. “It’s beautiful… how much of a monster you’ve become in the name of the lovely Abyss~”
“No…” That singular reply is shaky, barely leaving his lips, the grip tightening on his ankle like a metal shackle to keep him in place as a pain started to well up in his chest at an alarming rate. “No! I’m not…” Words were again cut off as the pain grew in intensity and he brought that scythe down in a fierce arc as a spot above his heart glowed a sickening red-
Oz immediately jolted upright in his bed, a hand over his heart and through the dim light of his room, there’s a purely terrified expression on his face. His body’s shaking and it doesn’t seem at first he even notices the Dreamberry was recording him, trying to remember to breathe and to shake such a nightmare from the surface from his mind.
Effects: (optional) Feelings of horror, fear, insecurity and at the end a bit of phantom pain in your chest.
Everything was dark, cold and rather empty.
The world came into view as one scattered with broken buildings in various states of dilapidation while the sky was dark, gloomy; like no light had ever touched it’s endless depths. Oz stands in the middle of it alone and an uneasy expression is written clear all over his face as the silence is suffocating before he’s walking forwards as a chill sets in that he can’t explain. He refuses to think about it, focusing on finding his friends.
He’s not alone here… he’s got that distinct feeling like someone is watching him.
“Gilbert? Alice?...” A beat follows that as his words carry off into the empty silence and echo on forever into the darkness. Though after what seems like moments of endless silence, that feeling of loneliness starts to set in and he shakes his head, closing his eyes and starting to run forwards, eyes closed as if he was able to so easily ignore it.
He wasn’t alone here. He had his friends, his sister… he wasn’t ever alone but then yet why didn’t this empty, broken feeling go away?
“Oz. Stop running.”
That voice.. it was Gilbert’s… but when he opened his eyes, the man wasn’t there.
Oz was standing alone once again, but this time it was in a dark, candle-lit basement of sorts, several crimson-cloaked people lying on the floor entirely unconscious. A blood-red scythe is in his hands and when he steps forwards, one can hear the definitive ‘splish’ of something wet beneath his foot. It’s enough to make him stop and look down, the sight of a man’s bloody body nearby, Oz’s foot resting in the pool of blood nearby it. The sight was sickening and he moved to step back when he took in his own appearance in the blood’s reflection; something horrifying to those who had never seen him in this state before.
That scythe in hand… eyes a bloody red and pupils slitted along with an aura of death radiating off of him, no sign of kindness evident in his expression. Something Murderous lingering beneath the surface.
A killer.
Shaking his head, Oz immediately moved to step back and away from this scene of gore but a cold, clammy - and bloody - hand wrapped around his ankle and his gaze was drawn down to meet the face of the man from before. Skin pale, mottled with blood and a twisted grin that utterly mocked him in it’s entirety. “It’s beautiful… how much of a monster you’ve become in the name of the lovely Abyss~”
“No…” That singular reply is shaky, barely leaving his lips, the grip tightening on his ankle like a metal shackle to keep him in place as a pain started to well up in his chest at an alarming rate. “No! I’m not…” Words were again cut off as the pain grew in intensity and he brought that scythe down in a fierce arc as a spot above his heart glowed a sickening red-
Oz immediately jolted upright in his bed, a hand over his heart and through the dim light of his room, there’s a purely terrified expression on his face. His body’s shaking and it doesn’t seem at first he even notices the Dreamberry was recording him, trying to remember to breathe and to shake such a nightmare from the surface from his mind.