Night Terror: Death by Dreams

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Night Terror: Death by Dreams

Post  Night Terror on Thu Nov 04, 2010 10:30 pm

My character is known as Night Terror, or any singular part of that name (Night or Terror).

Her power deals with Night Realms, which is detailed just below. ;p

The user's victim is thrown into a nightmarish coma; while the nightmare is active the subject cannot wake up. If the subject dies in their dream, they will die in real life.


Current Special Skills:

  • Post-Stress Daymares (Alpha Class) – The victim relives unpleasant past experiences in a sort of daydream, in which they become less aware of their surroundings and situation due to the vivid fears being replayed. User must make eye contact with target to initiate. Duration = 5-10 min.
  • Night Terrors (Novice Class) – The victim experiences severe nightmares while sleeping with increased difficulty in waking during these dreams. If the character dies in their mind’s concoction, they will also die in real life. Must be used on a sleeping target, otherwise it has no effect. Target must be in a 10 foot radius. Duration = 3 min.
  • Dreamvision (Alpha Class) – The victim’s dreams can been seen/watched as if the user were watching a TV screen in their mind. This ability can be used on sleeping targets, or targets of previously listed spell. The user cannot interfere or ‘lead’ dreams, just watch… for now. Duration = 5-10 min.


Status:

Villain

Character Bio:
My name is Mara Lepit.

From my birth till today, I have spent just over 19 years with empty nights, void of dreams. You never realize how important those small pleasures or pains are until they’re absent; it drives one mad.

Growing up, I was both frustrated and fascinated by my lack of dreams, good or bad. I often snuck into my parents bedroom, just to watch them sleep, wondering what they dreamt of. This habit even continued into middle school and if my dreamless nights didn’t make me crazy, perhaps it was the lack of sleep.

With high school came a new onslaught of emotions; secret desires, unbridled hatred, and all that jazz. I couldn’t act upon my thoughts, nor could I play with the ideas in dreamland. Instead, my mind wrapped itself around my often dark musings, coiling and squeezing, threatening to burst.

A single girl in particular became the bane of my existence. She was everything I wasn’t: tall, popular, angelic, beautiful… despite the fact that she was cruel and malicious towards me, finding every gaping hole in my defenses, I was utterly infatuated with her. I even grew to yearn for her negative attention.

One night while I was walking (which I often do), my path lead to her house, of which there was only one floor. Call me a stalker, but I couldn’t stop myself as my feet shifted quietly towards the window which I knew belonged to her bedroom. My dark figure was unknown to her as she finished her ritual of activities before taking her clothes off and sliding into bed. It was 11 before she fell asleep, the moon now glistening in the sky as its light pooled on her figure. The window and rationale hindered me from entering the silent room, so I found myself wondering if she ever dreamt of me. Standing in the dark, gazing into a bully’s window, my mind was suddenly filled with colorful images and sounds that seemed to swirl into my consciousness. I stepped back, startled for a moment, questioning what I ate in the past few hours when I realized that the scenario in my head was being played as if I were looking through the eyes of someone else. Who was the next question, and I was soon answered by the content of what I recognized as the dream of my curse, and my crush, who still lay wrapped in her sheets.

Curiosity must have sparked some sort of fire inside me… I don’t know what was the cause, but I soon found that I was able to view her dreams, but also the dreams of others. I occupied myself for days with this new found ability, slipping into my parents slumber as well as going back to the house of that girl.

There was one of those nights where I found myself livid as I peered into the pool of dreams that lay rippling on the other side of the window, that beautiful face flawless and innocent in the moonlight. A guy whom she had been eyeing the past week seemed to be a repeated theme in her dream theatre lately. It played out like a horrible movie this time, with me as the video camera. The blonde girl lay on the dark sheets of a foreign bed, skinny denim jeans already on the floor and her button-up shirt threatening to literally fall of her torso as her spine contorted in desire. The guy wasn’t that glamorous in my opinion, but in this dream, every flaw seemed to be ignored, his muscular figure taking a step towards the situation that I couldn’t stop. I had tried before. His clothing fell to the carpet in moments as he climbed up onto the mattress, the angel below beckoning the demon forward with faux innocence. My teeth grinded with every moan, and yet I couldn’t pull away. I hated this play, but it was only too easy to imagine myself in the splendor instead of that monster. Why shouldn’t I have happiness? What did this love interest do to deserve her love? She’s such a slut. I loathe her! These increasing emotions flared to immense proportion, and I was momentarily distracted by them until the dream took a sudden change. The situation swirled into darkness and fire, and the angel was now face to face with a new monster. It rose from lava, spewing hot rock from its nostrils and mouth. With a quick, sinister glance, it gave a roar and descended upon the being below, wings burning to ash within seconds. There was a scream of agony and pain, and it not only ripped my thoughts and concentration, but the silence of the night. In a split second, I was on the other side of the street, watching as the light in the bedroom turned on. Her parents filtered into the room, finding their daughter limp across her bed with a horrifying expression plastered on her face. I ran home quickly, and fell asleep, and didn’t dream.

School was depressing as classmates and teachers mourned the death of a girl who had ‘done nothing wrong’. Tears were shed by about everyone, and I might have let one fall down my face had I not felt so… free.

The doctors said it was a heart attack, caused by a severe nightmare. I doubt it was a random happenstance though, nor do I claim to have done anything wrong. I’ve found a few other tricks that I can do, and who knows, maybe I’ll use them again. The world certainly could do with a little less of ‘her’. Just pray you don’t cross me; else you might just be dead before sunrise.

I call myself Night Terror.


Last edited by Night Terror on Thu Nov 04, 2010 11:17 pm; edited 1 time in total
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Night Terror

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Re: Night Terror: Death by Dreams

Post  Dr. Weird on Thu Nov 04, 2010 10:43 pm

That was intense and very well written, amazing.
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Re: Night Terror: Death by Dreams

Post  Night Terror on Thu Nov 04, 2010 11:10 pm

Thank you. -bows shortly- Akvo rushed me. XD
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