the reality of brutality TOKYO GHOUL FANFICTION Amon x akira

devastating dreams

For some reason my dreams had always been consistently malleable. Malleable in the sense that my awareness of being within the dream influenced their environment and conversely the adversity that occupied them. I wouldn't label them as lucid dreaming though because of their ambiguity and my consciousness not keen enough to clearly manipulate them nor myself. But I was distinctly aware of the surrealism and I was able to recall them with ease.

The situation in this specific dream was painfully palpable. The setting an endless tundra of frozen wasteland, mountains of snow surging from the vacant landscape and swirling in the wind in frigid, relentless gusts. I was stumbling in sluggish steps, weighed by an amorphous coating preventing me from freezing. A nearly tangible fear had curled itself within my stomach, an electric urgency pounding through my body.

I was immediately aware of the imminent threat of belligerent hunters following me, the only prospect of losing them relying on my ability to maneuver through an oncoming forest of thin, denuded trees.

Their sharp branches sliced into my face as I crashed my way through them, the cold biting into my face, intangible teeth chewing through the skin exposing raw flesh that stung in caustic waves. Was there a point I could reach to end this futile chase? To my terror a wall of trees appeared in the direction I was pursuing, dread penetrating my skin far deeper than any temperature.

The trees were closely aligned, the space in between them too small for my bulky attire. As I grew unnerving close to them I knew deeply it was the end for me. I lacked a quinque and in fact any kind of weapon. I halted immediately as the wall encroached and spun around with sluggish effort to face my assailants.

Their faces were hideous and deformed, the flesh twisted and curling into flat knots that jarred their features. Their eyes glowed with vehement hatred and bloodlust and were horrifyingly unsymmetrical, the mouth agape and twisted too far to the left. My voice was caught in my throat, terror seizing my ability to move - they were so horrifying I couldn't comprehend anything but pure, cold fear. They caught up to me and before I could evade them, one wrapped its colossal, thick hand around my head, hoisting me up with sickening ease before swiftly jerking my head towards its face then biting deeply into my throat.

I woke with a jerk, fear shuddering through me. My breath came in thick heaves and I hunched over to steady my powerful trembling. I woke up, my left arm shackled to the narrow bed I was lying on. I curled into a ball and groaned, still terrified of my dream and terribly disoriented. I lay hunched and shuddering for some time before a door behind me clicked open.

    "What the hell is wrong with you?" I screamed as Gashtar approached me. He towered over me with a glare. "Don't touch me!"

He seized my neck and yanked me into the air as far as my restraint allowed.

"You're so fucking annoying," he hissed. I writhed in his grasp until he finally abated it. He unclipped my handcuff and shoved clothes into my chest. "Get dressed. The crowd liked your stupid antics, we had to make sure you didn't have other injuries - you're in the ring again." I suddenly grew self conscious and embarrassed.

"And if I refuse?"

"I'll cut your boy toy into steak chops and make you eat them. Cannibalism is hilarious."

"You're fucked up." This whole scenario was fucked up. I felt immediate terror at the thought of Amon being harmed, where was he? Clearly he was still alive. I gritted my teeth as that piece of trash left. "I'm so sorry, Amon," I whispered to myself. "I love you. I won't let them hurt you."