Nightmare

Sorry it's been a while, my brain has not come up with much inspiration for Moomin stories lately. So I'm just gonna do a few short stories here and there and I'll see where I can go from there. This story takes place after Possession. If you haven't read it yet, I'll post a link at the end of the story so you guys are up to date.

Enjoy.

The day had seemed pretty normal to Snufkin. It was a normal Autumn afternoon. The once lush green leaves were now in various shades of oranges and yellows. The beautiful flowers that had graced the valley during the Spring and Summer have shrivelled, leaving nothing more than bare stalks and dead petals on the ground. The trees themselves seemed to have followed suite, some bare completely of their leaves while others were just barely clinging onto them. Even the grass was dying, their green had become yellow from the cold. The skies were completely silent apart from the occasional whisper of a harsh wind, as the birds have all flown south, wanting to not get caught up in the snow. The clouds in the sky seemed to have taken on a grey hue, threatening to open up and rain upon the valley. Animals hurried about, squirrels collecting nuts and burying them and hedgehogs hurrying to finish their dens for the Winter. The residents were no different. They all collected the essentials that they needed such as firewood and other rations should they wake up from their Winter hibernation too early. Everything seemed fine.

Snufkin felt the fishing rod tug in his hands. The float bobbed under the surface furiously as the fish down below tries to savagely yank the bait off of the hook. Snufkin was stranger though as he pulled on the fishing rod, sending the fish flying through the air. Being quick, he grabbed the line and as the fish was thrashing wildly, he unhooked it into the bucket that he had beside him. Five small fish were swimming around in circles, their cycle almost interrupted by the unexpected arrival of the sixth. Snufkin smiled at how many he had already caught before turning his attention to Moominhouse. It was slowly starting to become dark already, the day already gone too quick for anyone's liking. The sky was becoming a light shade of orange and pink blended together. He wondered if Moominmamma would like some fresh fish to cook for her family. With that in mind, he stood up and carried his fishing rod and bucket towards Moominhouse. As he slowly approached the house, he could hear laughing on the veranda. He could see Moominmamma, Moominpappa, Moomin and the Joxter, the father he reunited with last year there, laughing at something and enjoying some hot beverages. Joxter was sitting on the railing whilst the family was sitting at the table. Moomin seemed to have caught sight of Snufkin because he had gotten up and started waving at him. Snufkin waved back, the smile he had on his face growing a little bigger. Joxter turned to see what the young troll as seeing. Upon seeing his son, he too started to wave at Snufkin. Snufkin waved back. Everything was perfect.

Too perfect.

Snufkin stopped waving abruptly. He stopped walking too. His smile faded. A foreboding chill ran throughout his entire body. He remembered nothing of the prior events that had taken place before he went fishing. He couldn't remember waking up and having breakfast that morning. He couldn't remember going for a walk or seeing his friends. Nor could he remember playing his harmonica, if he did at all. He couldn't even remember getting his fishing rod. The one thing that he couldn't remember most importantly, was seeing Joxter return to Moominvalley. Joxter was away somewhere, most likely causing trouble. So, if he was outside of Moominvalley, why was he here?

Snufkin felt his heart stop as he heard something behind him. It sounded like...laughter. Very familiar laughter. He slowly turned around to see a large black mass behind him. Snufkin felt like his body had turned to stone, even his breathing stopped all together. Two, blood red eyes opened up and a toothy grin spread in the black mass. The eyes shined with demonic glee as Snufkin felt all the colour drain from his face. His hands stopped responding as he dropped his fishing rod and the bucket. Water splashed over his feet and the fish flopped uselessly on the ground. He barely noticed it. He could barely hear anything, only his heart beating louder than a drum.