Childish

The Special Cookies

Trigger Warning: Chapter contains mention of drugs and while I write about these sort of these, I do not condone the use of drugs unless for a medical benefit or for PTSD related issues as a doctor's suggestion.

Anti couldn't sleep.

Every time he tried, he kept seeing someone in his nightmares.

They were big and scary and somehow a lot stronger than Anti even if he had his powers back.

He had always been kind of afraid of him but even more so now that he was smaller and more vulnerable.

Anti hated it.

In the distance he could hear a screeching noise.

Like screaming or a monster.

In his nightmares, he sounded even worse, giving it a body as well. The image of the scary man turned darker and even more frightening like a demon or horror movie monster.

The screeching continued like a call as if it was searching for him.

In his dream, Anti ran wherever he could, trying to get away or lose it.

For some reason, though, it just seemed to get louder and louder. Deeper and drippy as if spouting its saliva everywhere. It sounded disgusting. Anti imagined how it'd just crunch down on his bones so effortlessly.

Usually he'd find that thought neat but not now.

In the darkness, he could see two red eyes locked onto him where he was hiding.

Time seemed to slow as the beast bolted towards him.

And then he woke up.

Anti jolted as he woke, breathing heavily and sweating.

He looked around him and focused his gaze on the nightlight that was on in the kitchen. He could just see the light faintly but it was enough to tell him he was safe.

'Stupid fucking nightmares' he cursed to himself, 'I've seen that guy before or whatever. I think. But what the hell was that sound!? Geez'

He tried to swallow, noticing his throat was dry, 'I need some water or something'

Getting some from the kitchen, he then came back in the living room 'bedroom' to turn on the TV so he could focus on the white noise.

Needless to say, it gave him a better sleep until morning.

The next day, Anti was lingering creepily by the others. Mainly Marvin, since it was his fault he was like this.

And gave him the espresso death juice. He didn't know when he'd ever be able to drink coffee again after that.

Now, Marvin was munching on a cookie and Anti thought he was being clever by standing so close to him, trying to annoy him.

He didn't think it was really working but it was worth a shot. What else could he possibly do for fun that didn't involved torture, murder or stealing?

Ah yes. . . . . annoying the shit out of someone he hated.

But it didn't seem like Marvin was really bothered by him and glanced down at him periodically, "Let me guess . . . . you want a cookie?"

Anti squinted his eyes a bit at him in a tighter glare but didn't answer vocally.