Nightmares...
Chapter II: Nightmares…
“I still get nightmares. In fact, I get them so often that I should be used to them by now. I am not.”
_________________
“Good night to you too.”
_________________
Hinata didn’t sleep well. Her dreams (well, “dreams”) were plagued with a girl clad in the ghastly colour of death*, of the pitter-pattern of blood-red rain, of the screech of tires on gravel, of blood, blood, so much blood—
And she was awake ( the metallic taste and smell of blood following her even out of the dream) , heaving, breath coming in heaves that made her lungs burn with life.
And she was being suffocated, mouth full of pillow, lungs on fire, fire, fire with the urge to just breathe but the inability to do so; she screamed, screamed with the last of her breath, and, and, and—
—and it was gone. The pillow still laid on her face, now newly adorned with the red of her blood - she bit her lip it seems.
She took it off, hands shaking, shaking, all of her shaking.
She suppressed the urge to scream, to cry, to run, and instead turned her head up to see anything other than the bloody-red of the pillow and she saw. She saw, she saw, she saw.
She saw a murder scene.
Blood strewn across the walls of the room she was staying at, blood leaking — no, pouring — from the giant cut in a woman’s — no, Izanami’s — stomach. Her guts were out, some on the floor but others - tied around her in a complicated (a better word would be chaotic, wild, wild, wild - careless ) way; it was a mess.
And to top it off; Izanami was hanging from the hook for coats on the door. Hanging by her own intestines.
Hinata couldn’t suppress her gut (a small part of her brain — the “already going hysteric” one — cackled madly at that) reaction at this.
She cried; she threw up - be it from the smell of someone’s fucking disembowelled corpse being right before her, or from panic; who knows - probably both; she screamed her heart out, and lastly—
She. ran.