meet me in the woods ☾grayson dolan au

s e v e n

[ 07 ]

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He woke in a state of panic, covered in dried sweat and dirt. His clothes were ruined as he stumbled up from the brush and leaves he was laying in. He guessed he had passed out. But in the exact spot where his dream had ended, it made no sense unless it had all been as real as it felt.

The thought of the dream being real terrified him, and he jumped up to scan the area for proof, but there was nothing. Not a trace of blood, a thread of twine, a knife... Nothing. But even though it had all been a sick and twisted night terror, he felt guilty. He had killed and watched his own hands kill Ryder. He had killed the helpless and weak double of the one person he held dearly to him. The thought of the feeling of the knife breaking skin gave him the urge to vomit, and he would've if he had anything in his stomach left. The only thing left in his body was guilt and disgust towards himself. He could've believe how much he'd let himself go to his brother. It was unacceptable and unbelievable. Grayson questioned actually how powerful his brother was.

Then he remembered who his brother really was, and he started to search for him.

"Ethan!" He yelled, not caring who heard. "I know you're here! Where are you?"

No answer.

"Ethan!"

As on cue, the dark shadow of his brother faded to life in front of his face. "Damn, Grayson. How about you keep it down before someone calls the police."

Grayson ignored his words, taking steps towards him until he was standing a foot away. "You did too much, you crossed the line."

"So what?" Ethan put his hands up in a surrender, "it happened, so grow a pair and live your damn life."

"You're unbelievable. You made me kill the one person in my life that I love," he thrusted his hands out to push his brother, but his hands went straight through his body and he stumbled straight through it. "Fuck you, Ethan."

Ethan only laughed at Grayson's action, licking his chapped lips. "So what? It was a dream. It wasn't real."

"Have you ever thought about the idea of someone you love being killed under your own hands? It's terrifying, and it's stuck in my mind now because of you," Grayson got up, dusting off his jeans from dirt and leaves.

"Nope, never loved anyone to feel guilty about it."

Grayson looked up into his brother's pale face with disgust and Ethan only smirked back.

"Okay look," Grayson looked straight into his eyes. "I know that you- we- both had a shitty childhood, but it would be great if you'd just disappear again and shut your damn mouth for a while."

"Okay," Ethan answered simply, taking steps backwards and fading into the trees behind him with a chuckle and shake of his head. "Whatever makes you happy, but just remember it was your own hands that shed her blood, not mine."

And then he was gone and Grayson was stuck with his chest hurting in guilt. But he knew he had somewhere to be no matter how much he wanted to avoid it, so he pushed aside some brush and stepped out into the bright light where he entered the woods a day ago. He made his way to the concrete path and made his way back home through the warm toned trees of autumn. There was no longer a smell of barbecue, or at least he couldn't tell from the snot that clogged up his nostrils after he had cried so much in the past hours. His body felt heavy, like he was dragging himself towards home. He knew what was there, who was there, but he didn't know what to think of it anymore. He tried to think of the good things, good memories with her, but every scene morphed into some terrifying mutation that he knew Ethan was manipulating.

He didn't know if going home would be a relief or not, but before he could make up his mind he was standing in front of the back door.