The Williams Sister (Dean) : Fighting Northern Nightmares

Nightmares and Cold Sweats

He crept into my room silent as the night. As I lay in my  I'm king sized bed and white puff, asleep like death. His light green eyes flickered in the moon light, his muscular body tense with focus. Barely moving not to disturb the sleeping German Shepherd he drugged earlier to complete his task. His only goal was to take the pure mahogany ash tree stake and pierce it through my sleeping heart. He watches me sleeping soundlessly, his eyes glowing and glued to my sleeping body. He is taking breaths so small they aren't even breaths at all. His dark blonde short-cropped Ivy-league hair shown in the moonlight peaking though the shades and shadows, like a hidden suspect watching what was to be a murder taking place. I ,laying on my back, a picture of sleeping beauty . Hair feathered on the pillow , hands folded neatly on my stomach, pale skinned with brown freckles covering my skin like mud dust and my plump, rose cheeks Basking in the moonlight, I lay still and silent like the night outside my window. As he looms over me , he grabs the stake tighter, trying to slow his quickening heart beat as not to wake me as he approaches so soundlessly. He thought how unfair this plan was, he leaned in closer over me , the stake ready to plummet into my beating heart looming over me ready to strike in one harsh movement. The 100 year old floor boards betray his salience and the creak alludes me to his presence as he has the stake over his head, gasping tight with both hands so tight, his knuckles white, with arms bend at the elbow , in the moonlight the dark wood finishing glistened in his hands, my eyes flicker open from the floor boards to my attacker leaning over me, my pale white blue eyes light up the shadows of the dark room and I gasp as he brings the stake to a final hult into my beating heart with a loud holler. I sat up cold sweat dripping from me, soaking my sheets, I turned to my right stand on the right side of the bed and and watch the clock quickly turn from 3:59 am to 4:00 am the red light the only glow in the dark. Another Nightmare. Fang, my 4 year old German Shepherd, now awake and startled , from my sudden movement moves closer and lays his head on my stomach for comfort. "Sorry boy." I softly speak to him as I stroke his head. "They are getting worse ever day ..." I looked at him with sad eyes. "You don't really help and the meds aren't helping anymore like they used too... but when they did, if I miss just one day while taking them... it's hell all over again , if Stasia ever knew I was faking taking them and knew about you know what... I would be really dead." I say with a sad sigh. I move my legs from the warm white , fluffy puff to the cold, foot worned wood of the Williams house, 40 years today I think to myself... I walk across the old floors of my dark room to a dark oak makeup stand given to me by my Father, Conner Williams, an amazing man he was , to both the hunting community , local town and his family. I walk over with Fang, who watches with curiosity from the bed. "Careful" I speak to him softly while looking at him though the mirror "that killed our cat." I grinned ear to ear. He made a whimper and jumped-off the bed and sat to my right leaning against my leg as I screech his ear. I looked back into the mirror and stopped rubbing him. I smile again into the mirror , my grey eyes turn into white like a fading candle as another is being lit and burned. I cock my head to the left and raised my head and I lean into the vanity mirror while my hands grasp the matching Victorian chair. I come closer to the mirror, I could feel the mirrors cold temperature laminating off it. I look in the mirror with my pale eyes glowing and my incisor fully out as I run my tongue along my teeth and fang . I must be hungry I think to myself. Then fully face the mirror and run my tongue again, along all my top teeth while face on with the mirror .I smile with gleaming pearls in my mouth then frown covering me teeth with my lips thinking, who am I kidding. I looked down at Fang and spoke to him as if he where the only one to listen "I'm not scary am I?" As I smile to him, bearing my pearl of fangs. He looks deep into my pale , glowing eyes and cocks his head with a wine then sticks his tongue out and begins to breath heavy. I smirk in response . I rub his head so soft to the touch "yeah and all you want is food." I whisper to him, with that he perks up and sneaks through the slightly open bedroom door out into the very dim litted hallway. I look from the door back into the mirror in sorrow then open the drawer in the makeup stand. In that drawer was one thing, a light oak wood book with the initials G.J. , Georgia Jones. A name I took from a 46 year old woman that died in car accident in 1967, no one will ever know the truth I think to myself. It's better to keep it this way I tell myself for the 100 million times, what's another 40 years. I picked up the box and gently set it on the top of the stand like a feather on a pillow. I quietly open the small jewelry box lid slowly as it creaks open and stand back and gazed in hatred at the only artifact that it holds. There resting of pure, red silk was the only thing to kill a Northern Vampire, like myself, a dark ash mahogany stake, only 7 were ever made. The one that lay before me belonged to an angel called Castiel, he banned me to hell as punishment and so that he would never come near my family again I stole the only weapon he could use against me. Thinking about him and what happened had today three years ago makes my blood boil . I snap the lid shut and looked at the door and focused to hear if I woke Anastasia , my younger sister, I called her Stasia, our mom Sara hated it. "Shit!" I whisper to myself. That's the last thing I need is her up at this god awful hour. I was 18 when I showed up on there door step cursed to look 18 forever promising to protect them from anything with a harmful intentions, I was 22 when they brought Stasia home , she was so small , remember, like it was yesterday and god I was 29 when they brought.... Maxwell... Tears began to start, I shut my eyes tightly shoving the pain away like a secondary thought. I quickly and quietly put the box back into the drawer and slowly shut it. If she ever found this she would make me destroy it, if she knew I had it and what it was or that I considered using it against myself everyday after the accident three years ago, she would never forgive me. It was all my fault. I push the thoughts away again. Pain is better deep down where no one can see it. She called me a "guardian angel" that's what I'm called in all the hunter texts or Northern Vampire, but all I see as I look into my pale eyes, as I death stare into the mirror at a monster everyone try's to kill.