Beacon Hills was certainly no stranger to the supernatural; being the home of Werewolves, Banshee's, and the like. But once the power of the Nemeton was reactivated and an alarming premonition involving a certain pack of Beacon Hill's finest was had...
Norah Olwyn tossed and turned in her Queen-sized bed that she had all to herself as she desperately tried to shake away the nightmare she was having. She rolled onto her back with a groan and gripped onto her burgundy bed sheets, but she still couldn't pull her eyelids apart. No matter how hard she tried.
"Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream."
The voice was muffled; she could hear hints of a lisp as it spoke just above a whisper over her shoulder, hauntingly taunting her as she faced forward toward a red door. Surrounded by darkness, Norah didn't want to turn around to face where the voice was coming from, but suddenly she could feel something on her shoulder.
"When is a door, not a door?" The voice whispered to her. She slowly glanced over to see what seemed to be a hand on her shoulder, but it was wrapped tightly in bloodied gauze.
"When is a door, not a door?" The voice repeated, squeezing down on her shoulder with such might that she launched forward from the pain and out of their grasp with a gasp. She quickly turned and saw the source of the voice standing before her, and the sight both bewildered and frightened her.
They quirked their head to the side as if they were assessing her, but she couldn't actually see their face. Their head was wrapped similarly to how their hands were: completely covered by old and bloodied gauze. But Norah saw that there was a slit where their mouth was and it was right then that they smiled at her, baring their pointed and metallic teeth.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"When is a door, not a door?" They riddled again. Norah slowly turned around to look back at the door to see that it was no longer closed.
"When it's ajar.." She said softly. She reached out for the door knob but before she could grasp it, two hands wrapped around her upper arms and turned her back around, and suddenly she was alone in a large white room with bright white lights and pillars all around her.
She turned and the door was gone, as was the masked man who'd been tormenting her. It was when she began to turn back around that she saw a mark on her shoulder just under the strap of her tank top. She lightly moved the strap aside and stared at the mark, grazing it with the tips of her fingers in astonishment. She cringed when she made contact and she knew that the thing she saw before had to have left it when it grabbed her. It was a blackish burn in the form of their hand print.
She replaced the strap on her shoulder and faced forward, noticing now that there was a very large tree stump a few yards away that wasn't there before.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
