Mr. Sandman

one

*Note: Hello and thank you for choosing to read Mr. Sandman! Before we begin, I would like to note that this is an AU (alternate universe) story. Dan and Phil are not famous in this story. This story will have explicit content (violence, language, suggestive content, etc.), so please do take note of this before reading. This story was inspired by the song Mr. Sandman by The Chordettes, so if you have not heard it, I would suggest listening to it (or at least a part of it) before reading this chapter especially. I added a link to the song with lyrics. I will be updating every Saturday (possibly other dates if given the time) so please, please, please do not badger me to update constantly. I am/will be very busy with school and work. This is not my first time writing fanfic, but this is my first time writing on Wattpad, so please do forgive me for any mistakes made. ~ a

Without further ado, here is Mr. Sandman!*

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The room around her is silent. She wakes up slowly, peeling her eyes open to be met with darkness. Her breathing increases, each breath becoming more frantic and panicked as she tries to recall any memories. Anything to help her remember where she is and why, but she's at a loss. She remembers getting ready for a date at her flat, but everything after that becomes hazy.

As her eyes adjust, she can see she is in a dirty, empty room. She looks down and tries to move her arms, but she is incapable. Her arms have been tied behind the metal folding chair she is seated in, and her legs have been tied together at the ankles. After a moment of frustration, she looks around the room for any signs of life. There is rust lining the metal walls, signaling years of neglect. She can smell a moldy dampness in the air. She struggles against the binding on her arms for a few moments more, then gives up. She hangs her head low and begins to shake, crying silently to herself. How could she let this happen? She was always street smart.

The scratchy sound of a phonograph starting up filled her ears. She shot her head up at the sound. "Hello?" Her voice came out raspy and her throat seared in pain. A song began to play at a loud volume from behind her. She turned her head to the side to see who was behind her, but she couldn't see anything. "Hello?" She tried to speak over the sound of the music, but failed. "Please, just let me go." She recognized the song.

"Mr. Sandman... Bring me a dream..."

She again tried to struggle against the binds until she felt two hands stop her. Her back straightened from fear the second she felt them. Her hands were released from the ties with a smooth cut. Next, her feet were cut. She jumped up the second she was free and began to turn, but the same hands that released her, stopped her from turning.

"Make him the cutest, that I've ever seen..."

"You're going to run," a man said into her ear. The voice was so familiar, but she couldn't place a name or a face to it. "We're going to play my game." She was confused by his words. He sounded dark, and sinister, but his words were clear and confident. "What are you doing?" She asked without turning her head. "I told you. We're going to play my game. I'm going to give you a ten second head start." He said. She felt him running something that made her cringe up and down her back.

"Tell him that his lonesome nights are over..."

"If you win, you get to go home. Now, if you lose," She felt him brush the hair off her neck and onto her shoulder as he ran the thing along the back of her neck. It was a knife. "Well, you'll see." He took the knife away and gave her a light push forward.

"Sandman, I'm so alone..."

She turned her head and saw him. She stumbled back with wide eyes as she stared at him. Everything from that night flooded back to her. He held the knife wickedly, smiling at her with an evil glimmer in his brown eyes. "Ten, nine, eight." He spoke softly. She turned and ran down the dimly lit hall, her body pumping with adrenaline. She needed to get out and away from him.

"Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream..."

The halls were filled with rust and miscellaneous pieces of furniture and hardware. She knew where she was now. An abandoned pipe factory on the outskirts of London. She had never been there, but she always saw pictures of it on the internet and once in the newspaper. She turned the corner and hit her arm on the wall. She wanted to cry out, but she didn't have that option.

"Give him the word that I'm not a rover, tell him that his lonesome nights are over..."

She focused on getting out. She pictured breaking through a door and into the crisp winter air. She was in nothing but the shirt she had picked out for tonight and a pair of tight jeans. Her shoes were absent, and so was her jacket. She had no idea where they were, but that was the least of her concerns.

"Sandman, I'm so alone..."

She was careless. She didn't pay attention. The second her thoughts began to wander of freedom, she tripped over a rusted pipe that lay sprawled on the hall floor. She hit the ground hard, but that wasn't the issue. When she felt her foot hit the pipe, she knew she had made a big mistake. Something in her foot cracked and sent pain through her leg. She pulled the upper half of her body off the ground, ignoring the initial pain of hitting the floor.

"Don't have nobody to call my own..."

She turned on to her back and examined her already swelling ankle. She bit her hand to keep from crying out. She couldn't walk. There was no way. She had to crawl. As she began to drag herself, she noticed movement. He came from around the corner and stopped when he saw her on the ground. She looked to him. "Please, you don't want to do this." She croaked out, tears stinging her eyes.

"Please turn on your magic beam..."

He smiled to her and began to walk towards her. She tried to pull herself away, but he grabbed her and held her in place. He got down on the floor and held her face softly, looking between her eyes. "Allison," He whispered. "Please, don't. I'll do what ever you want I promise. I won't tell anyone." She began to ramble as tears spilled down her face.

"Mr. Sandman bring me a dream..."

He leaned in and kissed her. "You are so beautiful," He whispered onto her lips as he pulled away, but still lingered. She wasn't sure what was happening, but she went with it. She needed to stay alive long enough for someone to find her. He kissed her again, his lips soft on her dry ones. She responded to the kiss, hoping to make him happy. He held the back of her head in a loving manner.

"Mr. Sandman, someone to hold..."

Her eyes shot open as the knife pierced her abdomen sharply. He pulled away from the kiss and leaned her back down to the ground. She shook as the room seemed to get colder. She stared at him as he smiled down at her. "I'm afraid you lost, Allison." She tried to speak, but he silenced her with one last kiss. He kissed her softly and she began to cry. He pulled away and pushed a lock of her blonde hair behind her ear. He twisted the knife in her abdomen, leaving his hand on the handle. She began to choke on what felt like rising blood in her throat. "Sweet dreams." He whispered. He yanked the knife from her and stood up. She watched as he walked away, and soon all the shapes she saw became blurry.

"Mr. Sandman bring me a dream."

He hummed to himself as he walked the dirt path leading away from the factory. He let out a satisfied sigh as he looked up to night sky encrusted with glimmering stars. He always hated cleaning up after himself, but he loved the feeling he got when everything was said and done. He loved leaving little clues for the police. He craved the feeling of having his work on the morning news. He was an infamous icon. He was eternal, and he would never be caught.

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