Dreams of a Madman

Tick, tick, tick. The light was even more dim in the study than usual. The ancient grandfather clock in the corner constantly reminded Zelos that the seconds were going by. It was three O'clock in the morning. In almost time for Zelos to get his hour in.

He climbed out of his chair and walked around the study, he pressed a button by the window and a line of metal bars crossed it. Nobody was getting in their. He then locked the study door and set the proximity alarm. Finally he walked back to his arm chair and slumped back, unscrewed his arm and checked the pistol was still in his drawer. Then he slept.

Darkness whirled across Zelos' mind, as it always did. The nightmares were coming back, they always did. Zelos' one greatest enemy, his mind, the thing he could never overcome. The darkness penetrated Zelos' thoughts and clouding them before dispersing to create a vision.

A child was stood in the door way of a tiny house, his silver hair flowed over his eyes as tears streamed down behind. A woman was dead and a man held a gun over her, watching the boy. Then the darkness returned.

There was an extreme cacophony sound, people were laughing, crying, screaming all behind the barrier of Zelos' conscious. His conscious couldn't help him now, his subconscious was in control.

The darkness subsided to show the young boy, older now sat on a bed next to the man with the gun from the previous dream. The older man spoke.

"Son." The voice echoed eerily. "Watch me as I sleep, make sure nobody gets me." The silver haired boy nodded and waited, the father fell asleep. The boy stood up, loaded his pistol and shot the father. Repeatedly. The darkness returned.

Suddenly Zelos was awaken by the sound of his proximity alarm. He moved like a wraith in the shadow as he grabbed his gun and ducked behind his desk. After a few minutes he sat back on his chair, nobody was there. You never can be too careful though. He checked the clock again. Half Three.

He layed back on his chair once more. He dared not go back to sleep, cold beads of sweat dripped down his face. It was the same dream every night, the same nightmare, the same memories. They couldn't get him while he was awake though. Couldn't touch him. While Zelos was awake he was in control, of himself, of the bloodbox and of the city. Zelos looked at himself as a dark God that giggled as he watched his creation.

He pulled out his book again, a new idea had popped into his head. His very final, very ultimate revenge...

The End

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