The Boy Of My Nightmares

Chapter Two~

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I scrambled backwards in bed, my back hitting the headboard and still pushing myself into the smallest ball I could make, all the while my eyes locked on the body attached to the voice of my nightmare. He was chuckling as he watched me, his green eyes twinkling. His hand was still on my mouth but I was screaming soundlessly nonetheless.

"Would you stop that?" he asked, "I'll explain everything if you stop making that annoying noise." I nodded and he cautiously removed his hand. When I didn't immediately start screaming again he sat down on my bed next to me. I scooted as far away as I could without falling. He chuckled again and against my will I noticed that he had a very nice laugh.

"I'm assuming from your screaming you recognize me?" I nodded.

"You're the thing from my nightmares. You always chase me. Hey!" I shout suddenly as I remember more of the dream. "You tried to kill me!"

He winced. "No. I was trying to catch you." I scowled and thought for a second about that. He had never actually taken a chainsaw to my head or anything. I guess I just assumed he was a murderer. Oops. But still, he couldn't be real.

He waited patiently while I thought about it some more.

"Well," I concluded, "I've decided I've just finally gone insane and you're a figment of my imagination. I'm going to go to sleep and wake up chained to a hospital bed where I belong. Goodnight." I shut my eyes and layed down, waiting fifteen seconds or so. Please go away, please go away, I thought.  Then I opened my eyes again. Fuck. He was still sitting there with that childish grin on his face. I sat back up.

"Well, I guess I'm not insane. Am I?" I tilted my head as I asked him.He reached out and took my hand, placing it against his cheek. It was warm and solid and... real. Too real to be a figment of even my imagination.

"No, you're not." He let my hand drop. I leant back slightly and really looked at him. His black hair was longer for a guy, in the typical "emo" hairstyle, and he had olive skin that definitely didn't come from a tanning bed or the sun, and a slightly crooked nose that instead of making him ugly, gave his face a bit of character. And those eyes. They almost glowed in the cheap, artificial light of the lamp. Suddenly my ass hit the floor and instead of looking at him, I was staring at the ceiling. Ow. I hadn't realized how close to the edge of the bed I really was. I lay there on the ground, stunned. And I heard one of the most, well, beautiful noises ever.

This strange man, from my nightmares, was laughing. Not just a little chuckle, but a full-on bellowing laugh. After a minute, I started laughing too. I guess it was kind of funny, I thought. I pulled myself back up onto the bed, still giggling, and looked at him again. All at once, the laughter faded from the room and I was left feeling somber and more confused than ever.

"So," I said, trying to make light of the conversation, " Mr. Nightmare, who are you? I mean I recognize you but, how?" He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"This is going to take a while to explain. I'll try to put it into simple terms but it's very complicated." I nodded and leant back on the headboard, getting comfortable. For some reason I was not nearly as alarmed as I should've been. Oh well, I guess I've always been sort of strange.

"Have you ever had that nightmare where you're falling endlessly? Or the one where you go to school and realize you're naked? Or the one where you're running from something but you don't know what?" He asked pointedly. I nodded guardedly. "Every human being on this planet experiences these and more. But each person has one type of recurring nightmare, one that haunts them their whole life. Yours, obviously, is the one where you're running from something. And that nightmare, well, it's me. I'm, ah, how do I put this? I'm sort of like a part of you. Have you ever heard of guardian angels?"

I rolled my eyes. "Oh please. Don't tell me, you're here to watch over me and protect me and help me find my soulmate and blah blah blah." He smirked.

"Actually, no. Quite the opposite. Us Nightmares, we're the opposite of that. We're here to torment you, make you miserable, sometimes even drive you to insanity." He wiggled his fingers at me in an oogy-boogy manner. "We don't really do that, obviously. Although some would have you believe it... Anyways, we're like guardian angels in the way that you get one and we're here for your whole life, without you knowing."

"Well then how can I see and talk to you?" I huffed, confused. The light in his eyes died and he frowned.

"I kind of, uh, messed up. They gave me one last chance." He shrugged, trying to brush it off.

"Who's they and what's your last chance?" I inquired, trying to understand.

"They... The Archangels. I'm not kidding," he added as I started to giggle, "we basically work for them, tormenting humans, giving them some humility. See, each person's Nightmare reflects their greatest fear, and when they are constantly reminded of it, they realize they have more to be thankful for. As for my last chance... If I don't complete a sort of checklist given to me by the Archangels, I'll be sent to Hell forever. If I do, I get some sort of retribution, although they failed to mention exactly what that was... But yeah, that's my basic story. Any questions?" He looked at me, hope in his eyes.

"Yeah, one. Do you have a tongue piercing?" He laughed again, a warm sound that filled the room, and stuck out his tongue, revealing the shiny piece of metal. Huh.

"Wow, I didn't know Nightmares could get piercings." I said coquettishly. He grinned sheepishly.

"I can change my appearance to be whatever I want to look like. Well, except for my eyes. This is how I really look though. Oh, that reminds me. I'm tanglible right now, but during the day, only you can see and hear me. Once the sun sets, I'm just as real as any human." He looked pleased with himself.

"Okay, that makes sense... So, what do you need to do to get... retribution?" I asked curiously. He chuckled nervously.

"Oh, nothing really. You technically aren't allowed to know until it happens anyways. I'll be hanging around with you for awhile though, if that's okay." He stood up. "Shouldn't you get ready for work?"

I looked at the clock. 5:09. Shit. I jumped up.

"I'm gonna shower. You, stay!" I ran to the bathroom that was attached to my room. "What's your name?" I added as I turned to look back at him. 

He considered my question. "Call me... Dexter."

I nodded and pulled the door shut behind me.

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Kind of a longish chapter but I hope you guys liked, let me know?! Share? aha ._____. feedback appreciated, cheers!