The apparent calm that reigns in Neo City breaks into million pieces when some members of the Neos find an outsider laying unconscious in the wood. After that, everything they know stops making sense. Menace from the past come back, while they have...
warnings: mentions of hearing and imagining voices and people, mentions of past suicidal thoughts, self-harm ( mentions of blood, cuts and bandage), attempted suicide, mention of anxiety (and skipping medications). that should be all, if i missed something let me know.
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STAGE 1 –
non-REM sleep
The white neon light on the ceiling was flickering, a buzzing sound resounded around the white room. The green lights of the television's screen around the room were glitching.
The cameras were focused on a bed in the middle of the room. The blue fluids were running swiftly from the bottle to the boy's veins. His violent movements slowed down, his chest fell flat and his arm fell to the side, giving up his attempt to fight back.
His eyelids started to drift slowly, just to abruptly sprung open again. His muscle tone throughout his body started to relax. His brain wave activity began to slow down from that of wake state.
A sudden, violent, jerk of his entire body.
"Hypnagogic jerks." A man in a white coat wrote down.
Another jerk.
And then, another one.
Intense, frequent and repetitive.
REM – ON
The green words on the screen shined.
"DREAM connected." A metallic voice coming from a speaker stated.
The man in the white coat pushed a button.
"REC – STARTS" lightened red, tapes started rolling.
REM – OFF
"DREAM connection lost."
A woman in a white coat groaned in frustration, her fist met the table in front of them.
Then she started writing down.
" subject LT01 " "The subject fights back. We can't enter his dreams. Observed also on subject AA04."
♚
Taeyong was looking down at his hands as he kept on turning around that ruined photo.
A bitter laugh rolled out of his tongue as he wiped away a lonely tear. It had been almost a week since he had that talk with the outsider but her voice kept on lingering in his ears.
He was the son of the resistance. It was a fact. It was in his blood and there was no way he could change that.
"You're made of the same substance of the braves who dared to beat Simon." His brain repeated over and over again as he stared at the two people framed on the film wrapped in his fingers.
