Nightmare [Jeremike One-shot]

Nightmare

He didn't wind the music box.

He didn't wind the goddamn music box, and as the tune of 'pop goes the weasel' enters his ears, his heart stops.

It's over.

He's going to die.

Jeremy still keeps going, trying to wind the music box again, put on his mask, flash the light down the hallway, anything. There has to be a way. This can't be it.

Nothing changes. The tune keeps playing.

Jeremy feels tears prick his eyes, his hands are shaking, making him drop his flashlight. He breaks out in a cold sweat. His once still heart was now pulsing at what seemed like 100 beats per second.

He lets out tiny sobs as he tightly closes his eyes, hearing a deafening screech.

His sobs are interrupted by something wrapping around his neck, not allowing him to breathe. His eyes widen as they look right into the mask of the puppet, staring at the permanent smile painted on his face and his deep black eyes, the only things inside being tiny white pupils. Although tiny they did seem to have a dim glow.

The tears seem to flow faster now. He wishes he could scream, but even if he could no one would hear him. He feels himself going numb, his eyelids become heavy.

Jeremy feels himself slowly fall into the puppets grasp...

-

Mike jolts straight up out of his bed, cold sweat forming on his forehead. His breath is heavy and shaky, his heart is racing and won't seem to slow down. He can't tell if what's running down his cheeks is sweat or tears. His hands reach to his chest, clutching on the spot where his heart was.

He snaps out of his daze as his head violently spins to the side. He stares at the glowing letters of his alarm clock. It's 6:08. If Jeremy is still alive he should be changed and walking home right now.

If he's alive that is.

Mike's hand quickly grasps for his cellphone, his breathing is still heavy as he dials in Jeremy's number.

One ring.

Mike bites his lip.

Two rings.

He grasps the phone tighter.

Three rings.

More tears seem to escape from his eyes.

Four rings.

He's shaking, slowly loosing hope, starting to believe he's really gone-

"Hello?"

Mike's thoughts are interrupted by the sweet sound of Jeremy's voice. He lets out a shaky sigh of relief, letting his free hand wipe the sweat off of his forehead. Although it does nothing since his hands are sweating, too.

"Holy shit, you're okay."

Jeremy raises his eyebrow in confusion, but is filled with concern at the tone of Mike's voice. His usual nonchalant demeanor was missing, now replaced by anxiety.

"Mike? Are you okay? What happened?"

Mikes breathing quiets down. He no longer feels tears gliding down his face, but instead dried stains of them laying on his cheeks. He clears his throat.

"Yeah...just a nightmare."

"Do you need me to come over? I'll be there in a sec-"

"No, I'm okay."

Although now he sounded more like himself, Jeremy was still unsure. He decided not to push it, though, in fear of building his angst again.

"Okay...but can I ask something?"

"Go ahead."

"What was it about? Your nightmare, I mean."

Mike went still, and for a moment didn't answer. Jeremy was about to ask if he was okay again but was interrupted by a light chuckle.

"Nothing you need to know."

Jeremy smiled. Mike was back.

"Okay. Well, I have to go, I'll see you soon."

"Okay. See ya, Jere."

"Bye, Mike."

"Oh, and Jeremy?"

Jeremy paused.

"...yeah?"

"Be careful tonight."

Jeremy heard Mike hang up, looking at his phone for a moment before tucking it in his pocket and walking home.