Tales From The Master's Scroll | Ninjago One-shots

The Veil Is Raised | Show

Who says videogame tribute music on YouTube is not worth listening to? 😏

Title and lyrics taken from "Dream Your Dream" by TryHardNinja.

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~Hush now, drift off to sleep
Reality, a memory
Don't be scared of what you find
Yeah, it's all just in your mind~

Garmadon let out frantic, subtle gasps as he restlessly fidgeted about in his sleep. His forehead glistened with beads of sweat along with his brown fringe of hair. His hands involuntarily clutched and released the sheets in a repeated fashion while his mind assaulted him with nightmares.

The room was blanketed in darkness. Solid black colors and nothing else. He stood in the centre. Or was it the corner or the back? He couldn't really tell. His lungs felt compressed despite him desperately gulping down air.

Garmadon's quivering voice fell out of his dry lips in trembling whimpers. His breathing slowly growing loud and heavy. His body was shivering all over even though it was a warm night.

Crying. Sobbing. He could hear it in the room. It echoed all around him but it still seemed to emanate from a single point. He dared to move closer to the sound. His eyes slowly began to adjust to the darkness and he was surprised to see the room really was enclosed with walls. It wasn't endless.

"Th-there . . ." Garmadon mumbled sleepily, urging his dream to proceed towards locating the source of the crying.

At the far wall, he could make out a child, huddled in the corner with his head buried in his knees. A small pool of blood lay at the side of his feet. He grew uncomfortable when he witnessed this but the child seemed to be ignoring the red liquid.

He hesitantly moved nearer to the boy, crouching down a few inches away from him. He couldn't feel his lips moving but he heard his voice whispering, "What's wrong?"

"Stay b-back," Garmadon murmured, his agitation increasing more.

The boy looked up, irises glowing red like his and cheeks stained with tears. He did a double take. The boy was him. But younger. He noticed blood excessively running down the child's right hand and dripping onto the floor. It appeared to be oozing out of the wound where it had bit him.

Upon closer examination, he could even make out inky black tendrils originating from the bite and moving up the kid's arm. They rose up his neck and swirled around his face.

He looked almost consumed.

"No," breathed out the brunet, hands now slightly moving this way and that as if trying to keep something at bay and away from himself.

Fresh tears welled up in the boy's eyes as he glanced up at his older form. A choked sob issued out of his throat.

"It's too late," cried the child, his voice watery and raspy from crying. "There's no saving us now."

He could see the younger's skin turn a dark shade of grey, gradually morphing into pure black.

"You didn't fight hard enough!" the boy continued in screams.