@fides-nihil | Encounters Human Corinthian
The past few days have been tumultuous. The Nightmare could sense something wrong with his connection to the Dreaming. It's been making him agitated. Unnerved. Is Dream almost upon him? He can't tell. But he's been forcing the Corpse in his company to relocate more and more often.
It was in the privacy of a tiny church backroom when the surge of power ripped through him. Waiting aimlessly for Eli to finish yet another furiously bellowed mass. One moment he had been seated, cleaning his knives. The next, he had blacked out.
When he awoke, his face was pressed painfully against the wooden floorboards. His entire body felt stiff and heavy. As though someone had filled his veins with lead. His mind is agonisingly slow to try and come to. Groaning with agony as he tries to heave himself onto his hands and knees.
The room is spinning- and dark. And his lungs ache. Burn. Scream.
Adrenaline rushes through him as instinctively he takes a deep breath. The sweet relief of air rushing into his lungs is a blessing. But it's also a sensation he's never experienced before. A shaky hand reaches to clutch at his own chest. Confusedly testing each intake of breath. He tries breathing faster, and his head begins to spin.
He stops. The spinning fades. And that slow burn begins to achingly creep back into his lungs.
Not only that, but his maws feel different. Fuller. As though he has a set of eyes held within them. But no matter how hard he tries, his teeth won't clamp down on the spherical objects.
"What the fuck."
