CREEPYPASTA

Dementia

The light rained on Connor as he stared at the blinking orb. "Welcome home, Connor," the orb would always say. "There's something special about you, and we need you..."

Then the demonic voice would always jump in. "END IT! END IT ALL!" it would scream, and a shadow, HIS shadow, would outstretch its hands and grab him, and that's when he'd always wake up.

He gasped, the dream still conflicting him. He shook his head. The Four Merdenaries, isn't that what they were called? They were playing an old song. The song was made around about... 600 years ago. He tried to remember the date. June 25... 2493? Yes, that was it. June 25, 2943.

He was on board the expedition to the next galaxy, the Red Flower, they'd called it, still far from view. The space station was huge, and housed more than 50 people. More space than needed, but it didn't matter.

He noticed now that his head was on the control panel. It was set to autopilot. Thank god. For a second, he thought he'd jump-drived them somewhere. He heaved himself up, and turned around, and noticed Shane lying dead. His eyes stared in horror as he saw the huge gash in Shane's stomach, a knife mark.

He grabbed his M23 Jakor, a pistol, and searched the rest of the ship, and saw the other bodies. One the stomach of a pregnant woman was ripped open, and her guts were on the floor next to her. Connor vomited, the stench and sight unbearable.

He wiped his chin with his sleeve and got up, and heard something walk up behind him. He turned around, hoping to see a survivor, but instead it was... the shadow. Its arms were outstretched. It walked toward him.

Connor backed up and fired, the plasma rounds soaking the shadow, but it continued its deadly walk. He faltered as he reloaded, dropping the new clip. He quickly picked it up, but the shadow was right in front of him. Adrenaline pumping, he quickly set the clip in and fell back onto his spine, and shot. The round hit the shadow's face, and it fell, hopefully dead, onto the ground, and something stirred in his mind. Voices... but not the voices from the dream. His vision blurred, and he saw Shane and another person. The woman.

"Let's kill the crazy bastard!" Shane declared, and then the door behind him opened and was that... The Shadow?

Connor's vision reverted to normal, but a sick feeling remained in his stomach. He heard crying and whispers that seemed to carry through the halls, unexplainable crying and whispers. Connor stayed put until he heard them stop, and stood back up shakily. The Shadow had been real... had killed his friend and the woman. No... The Shadow was only a part of his dreams, right? Either way, it's dead now, he thought, turning his head to The Shadow's body... Where was it?

The body was gone. He realized. It must've been his imagination... But it'd seem so real...

He shook his head and continued walking into the snack bay, blood covered the walls, and a body, who's head wasn't where it should've been, was propped up against the wall, the same knife gash in the body. His vision blurred once again.

The new vision he saw was the man that was propped against the wall. His face was covered in blood. "Please..." He choked. "Don't... Don't..."

His vision returned to normal, but he could still hear the scream. He stared at the body... and he blacked out.

The dream replayed, except, it was different. The orb was still blinking in all its glory. "Connor... I must show you something..." It said, the voice echoing through the empty darkness that seemed to swirl them... Then everything went colorful. It was him, the knife in his hand. The vision with Shane and the woman reverted, except The Shadow was replaced by him.

It was him, he saw himself slice Shane's stomach, and him tearing out the woman's guts and her child.

He couldn't believe it.

His vision returned to the orb, "The end is inevitable... and soon."

Then the demonic voice came, "END IT! END IT ALL!" and The Shadow placed its hands over his eyes.

_________________________________________________________________________________

Shane was hunched over and limping towards the sound of the whimpering. He gripped his gash, and drew his knife. It was payback time.

He went around the corner, and saw him, the rat bastard Connor standing there, "And to think you were my friend."

Connor seemed to snap out of whatever trance he was in. He turned around, "Wait! Do-"

Shane didn't hesitate, releasing the knife and flew into Connor's forehead. Connor stumbled back a few feet, and landed on his back with a satisfying thump.

Shane laughed, and buckled to his knees. His vision started to swell until all he saw was white.