Hecatoncheires
un jour je serai de retour près de toi
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FOLKLORE MEMBER
[size=+3]PLEASE READ THE OOC BEFORE JOINING...[/size]
[size=+1]
"The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown."
- H.P. Lovecraft
The dreams of the denizens of floor 13 are dark indeed.
They begin innocently enough. Far more personal, the subconscious digesting and compartmentalising the day's events, old memories and sensations from fondly-remembered times now past. Perhaps a dream of flight, or meeting a long-lost friend.
Then something changes for each resident.
Each of them finds their dreamscape suddenly and inescapably altered, shifted into something far darker and disturbing. All of a sudden they find themselves standing in a long, dark hallway, similar to the one find just outside their apartment doors… and yet simultaneously alien to them. The familiar intermixing with the unknown.
As they take their first steps down the hallway, they become aware of the presence following them.
It does not have form, it does not have shape. It is not solid, and it cannot truly be seen. It is simply there, occupying the darkness around the tiny spotlight of illumination that follows the residents. Immediately they are aware that this is not a benign presence; nothing that it has in mind for them is in any way good.
And it is following them.
Slowly at first they become aware of this. With every step it draws closer, with every panicked breath it slides nearer. Soon the residents are running, fleeing as fast as they can down this seemingly unending corridor. It is not enough; the presence is faster and it's advance towards them unstoppable.
Just before they are blasted back to wakefulness in a cold sweat, just as the incorporeal tendrils of the presence begin to snake their way around their ankles, the residents catch a terrible, fleeting insight into the nature of the thing that has caught them.
Something ancient, unknowable and terrifyingly alien, something that isn't human and never was to begin with.[/size]
"The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown."
- H.P. Lovecraft
The dreams of the denizens of floor 13 are dark indeed.
They begin innocently enough. Far more personal, the subconscious digesting and compartmentalising the day's events, old memories and sensations from fondly-remembered times now past. Perhaps a dream of flight, or meeting a long-lost friend.
Then something changes for each resident.
Each of them finds their dreamscape suddenly and inescapably altered, shifted into something far darker and disturbing. All of a sudden they find themselves standing in a long, dark hallway, similar to the one find just outside their apartment doors… and yet simultaneously alien to them. The familiar intermixing with the unknown.
As they take their first steps down the hallway, they become aware of the presence following them.
It does not have form, it does not have shape. It is not solid, and it cannot truly be seen. It is simply there, occupying the darkness around the tiny spotlight of illumination that follows the residents. Immediately they are aware that this is not a benign presence; nothing that it has in mind for them is in any way good.
And it is following them.
Slowly at first they become aware of this. With every step it draws closer, with every panicked breath it slides nearer. Soon the residents are running, fleeing as fast as they can down this seemingly unending corridor. It is not enough; the presence is faster and it's advance towards them unstoppable.
Just before they are blasted back to wakefulness in a cold sweat, just as the incorporeal tendrils of the presence begin to snake their way around their ankles, the residents catch a terrible, fleeting insight into the nature of the thing that has caught them.
Something ancient, unknowable and terrifyingly alien, something that isn't human and never was to begin with.
[size=+1]TOM HARRISON
I snap awake to find myself wrapped in a cocoon of bedcovers, cold sweat dripping between my shoulder-blades.
For a good minute or so I lie there panting, trying to get my heart to ease back down to a pace that doesn't make me feel like it's going to burst out of my chest at any given moment. As reality sets back in and I begin to realise that I'm no longer in that corridor but back in my apartment's bedroom I scramble for my bedside lamp.
A reassuring light shines forth from it illuminating my room, and I let out a sigh of relief. Just a dream. Just a horribly, horribly fucked-up dream that felt real at the time. A glance to the alarm clock tells me it's just after 2am. I have a photo-shoot scheduled for just a few hours but that can't be helped; I really don't fancy trying to sleep again so soon after what I've just dreamt.
Goddamn. Nightmares? I haven't had one since I was twelve.
Hauling myself out of bed I make for the kitchen, subconsciously turning on every light in the apartment on my way there. A glass of water, maybe read a book for a bit and then another attempt at sleep. It was just a nightmare, I tell myself. Nothing to get freaked out about. Not like it's real--
I pause mid-thought as a sound begins to reach my ears.
A sound that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
There's something in the corridor outside. Something that's whispering, scratching at the walls.
And it's getting closer.[/size]
I snap awake to find myself wrapped in a cocoon of bedcovers, cold sweat dripping between my shoulder-blades.
For a good minute or so I lie there panting, trying to get my heart to ease back down to a pace that doesn't make me feel like it's going to burst out of my chest at any given moment. As reality sets back in and I begin to realise that I'm no longer in that corridor but back in my apartment's bedroom I scramble for my bedside lamp.
A reassuring light shines forth from it illuminating my room, and I let out a sigh of relief. Just a dream. Just a horribly, horribly fucked-up dream that felt real at the time. A glance to the alarm clock tells me it's just after 2am. I have a photo-shoot scheduled for just a few hours but that can't be helped; I really don't fancy trying to sleep again so soon after what I've just dreamt.
Goddamn. Nightmares? I haven't had one since I was twelve.
Hauling myself out of bed I make for the kitchen, subconsciously turning on every light in the apartment on my way there. A glass of water, maybe read a book for a bit and then another attempt at sleep. It was just a nightmare, I tell myself. Nothing to get freaked out about. Not like it's real--
I pause mid-thought as a sound begins to reach my ears.
A sound that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
There's something in the corridor outside. Something that's whispering, scratching at the walls.
And it's getting closer.[/size]