The Boy in the Photograph ↪ Brallon

Chapter 7; White Smoke

Shivering himself awake a mere three hours later Dallon only opened his eyes because of the sheer lack of heat in his apartment. Brendon's demonic presence unknowingly making the place an extra 20 degrees colder.

Dallon slowly rose his head from his bed, then set it back down as pain shot through his cranium and down part of his spine. He rubbed it softly, feeling his new goose-egg sized wound. He closed his eyes, trying to figure out how he got to his bed, and more importantly how he hurt his head.

He opened his eyes looking around his room, best as he could from the spot he's been laying on his bed, his feet hanging loosely off the end. Dallon looked down now to his body, satisfied that nothing was messed with in his room.

Many thoughts ran rapid in his head;

Had I been robbed?

Did someone knock me out?

What would someone even want to steal?

As Dallon thought rapidly Brendon still battled himself in his own head. He yelled at screamed to no one, asking why this was happening to him. He starred at his grotesque body, nearly black in color and strange raised tattoo-est markings decorated his skin. His horns slowly growing.

Brendon raised his hands-claws up to his head feeling his small horns. This action in his dream awoke him in real life. He gasped loudly, eyes wide in confusion and hurt. He took several deep breaths closing his eyes, then clearing his head he opened them again. Immediately looking to his hands and skin, which to his pleasant surprise had gone back to their original deathly white, his claws all gone as well.

As ghosts do, he floated back to his room-Dallon's room. Just to check on him of course, not as if he was developing feelings at all for the boy he nearly killed, none at all. He saw Dallon almost exactly how he left him, laying in an unkempt bed, a slow rise and fall to his chest. However now, Dallon was awake. Brendon could just barely tell with the soft feather like flutter of his eyelashes. He laid there, unmoving for sometime. The gears in his mind turning. Brendon absolutely enthralled watched Dallon rest.

"I wish you could just hear me." Brendon sighed disappointedly.

This sentence however did reach Dallon's ears. "Hello?" Dallon said not moving, pricking his head to the side to avoid anymore pain but still able to listen better, desperately yearning for another's voice.

Brendon put his hands down to his sides, hoisting his chin from his hands were it was previously. His eyebrows lifting higher, until he concluded quickly that...Dallon had actually heard his voice. Even only one word, if just a whisper, it was enough for Brendon's adrenaline to skyrocket.

He floated closer to Dallon, his left side on the edge of the bed. Brendon leaned down and poised his finger to touch Dallon's shoulder. Curiously he actually made contact, Dallon looked to his left were the poke came from. Brendon gazed at his finger as if it was a miracle from god them self that he could touch a living person.

Dallon got up, his migraine subsiding significantly. Swinging his legs over the bed, his clothes feeling too stiff on his own body he stood up, stretching every muscle he could without too much stress to them, he was thrown into an entire wall after all.

He placed his right hand on his shoulder were the touch came from. Dallon spun on his heels, looking every which way he could in his bedroom. Unsuccessful on finding the whispered words he stepped into the hallway.

Pitted darkness echoed from all sides, emanating a deep angry presence The only path available was straight across to his study. That room for some reason was the only one that remained untouched by the dark violet being.

He strode carefully, catching his breath every step he took on the hardwood flooring. Brendon as usual watched his every move, and he too felt the other force in the house, it was undoubtedly an evil one. But for where it came from neither knew, just that it drove the two closer and closer together.

Brendon situated next to the unreasonable notebook, it stared at him tauntingly saying-

I dare you to open me again.

With a fire in his eyes Brendon raised his left hand, summoning his new powers again. The notebook, as Dallon watched, forcefully flew open, Brendon's right hand growing the long noir nails again.

Dallon as if told to like an obedient child sat down criss crossing his legs under himself, he remained there, awaiting further action from Brendon.

Brendon's pointer finger burned with a dull sensation, and he looked down to his notebook, poised on an empty page. He didn't remember leaving any blank pages but he just ignored the thought. He hesitantly raised his hot finger and wrote Hello, in the air.

Simultaneously it burned the same Hello into the paper.

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