The Boy Next Door

Waking Nightmare

We interrupt this 'program' for a question that I can't find an answer too.
Does Alastor's shadow have a cannon name? Is it just Alastor's shadow? I'm honestly asking. I can't find anything about it. I'm only asking because "the shadow" is sorta becoming just a bit wrong to me. And I kinda was hoping it did, but considering I can't find sh!t about a name there prolly ain't one.

But I ask in case. :)

!TW! Gore, explicit description of injury

When Elisabeth finally returned, she closed the door behind her quietly. "Boys I'm..." she stopped, glancing at one of the beds where Anthony was asleep on his side, Alastor laying behind him with his arms wrapped around the blonde's waist. She couldn't tell if Alastor was awake of not, but just in case, remained as quiet as possible. Moving to the other bed not too far from theirs, she pulled back the covers and laid down. Taking a deep breath as she let her thoughts from earlier subside.

Alastor shifted from almost discomfort in his sleep, despite the covers and added warmth of having Anthony right up against him. His body felt cold, numb even. But that numbness turned to a feeling of almost being wet, like a thick liquid was coating his back and shoulders. All of this followed by an ever growing sharp pain, just as the one he felt the previous day. Opening his eyes and sitting up, he looked down at himself, blood seeping through his shirt and dripping off his face. Quickly realizing it was coming from his mouth. Bringing a hand to wipe just below his lips, a fair amount of the thick red liquid covering his hand, he could feel the metallic flavour coating his tongue. It made him want to be sick if he was being honest, because something about it...it didn't seem like his own. Reaching down to remove his bloodstained shirt, eyes going wide at the sight of him. His chest looked torn up, covered in scratches and bite marks. He looked as if he had just been mauled by a pack of wolves. It hurt, he could feel every cut in his flesh. His hands were shaky as he examined them, his fingers felt like ice, slightly purplish at the tips. Something like frostbite. Glancing across the room at the walls, they seemed normal enough. gaze falling on his mother, nothing out of the ordinary. He couldn't open his mouth to speak, not only did his throat feel like sandpaper, but if he opened his mouth blood just poured out. Turning his attention back to himself, unsure of what to do, breath caught in his throat, he could hardly make a noise. Then his eyes fell on the blonde asleep in front of him. This sudden feeling of dread building inside the brunette. Gently pulling the blonde to lay on his back without disturbing him to much, looking down at his face. He quickly looked away with a sharp inhale, staring wide eyed off into space. The sight having honestly startled him. Pushing away the only growing nausea for a minute, he looked again, less startling this time but still an awful sight. A few bruises and cuts littered his face and neck, his eye wide and bloodshot. Not only that, but it looked so lifeless. Nothing behind his eyes in that moment. There was...something dripping from his mouth. It wasn't blood, it was white and almost frothy. Slowly reaching to wipe a bit of it away, the sound of heavy footsteps and gunfire became more apparent. Alastor looked in the direction they seemed to be coming from, but no one was anywhere near him. They were alone. What on earth was happening?
Everything suddenly was interrupted by the worst pain he could have described, a mix of sharp and blunt force in his forehead, all the way to the back of his skull. It was beyond words what he felt. Blood tailed from his forehead, it took everything in him not make any noise, allowing nothing but pained gasps. He wanted to wake up, but he was awake...how did he make this stop?! He took a few deep breaths, trying to muster up enough will to speak despite the mind numbing pain he felt in that moment. He felt almost as if he were dying. "Where are you?" He called breathlessly. Blinking his eyes in hopes that it would hurt less than having them open. The entity appeared in front of him. "Alastor, what is going on?" It asked, bringing its clawed fingers to push back his bloodstained hair. Quickly pulling the hand back. "It's happening again." It finally concluded. "What is...? New memories?" He asked, bringing his hand up and biting down on it, hoping to distract at least a little from everything else. "These aren't supposed to be felt yet." It said, looking over his body. "Yet? This happens one day?" He asked. The entity sighed, shaking its head. "Not for years. And it doesn't last long when it happens. I just don't understand why you're seeing it now." Alastor glanced around the room, glancing at Anthony for a moment. "Does...everything else happen one day too?" He asked nervously. The entity followed his gaze to the blonde, eyes widening a bit. "We...don't remember that at all..." it shook it's head. "What am I supposed to do? How do I make this stop? Is Anthony okay? I don't understand." He said honestly. The entity looked around. "None of this is real. I know it feels real, it's not. Anthony wouldn't be able to see any of what you are." Alastor took a few sharp and deep breaths, bringing a hand to cover his mouth as he didn't want to wake up his family, nor stain anything with the blood that seemed so real to him.