OC Oneshots

(Nestor) Nice Night for a Nightmare Innit?

!TW! Homo in a derogatory way; Implied neglect/abuse (It's brief I promise)

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Black. That's all he could see. Nothing around him but darkness. Where was he before this again..? He couldn't recall. His body was almost weightless. He felt like a feather drifting on top of a lake. So close, yet so far from sinking. It was... eerily peaceful. He tilted his head up, lifted his arms, closed his eyes, and grinned, welcoming this with open arms. Whatever it was, he decided to enjoy every second of it.

His quiet lull was interrupted suddenly. His eyes snapped open and he pulled his arms into himself, as he suddenly found himself surrounded by people. Or, rather, what looked like people. It was only grey silhouettes defined by white faces. They all looked at him, staring. Their expressions a mix of awe, confusion, and fear. He watched as they looked back to the others and started to whisper. He couldn't make anything out. He looked around in a panic, trying to find a way to escape, only being met with being surrounded by the grey figures. The whispers were getting louder, the glares more intense. He continued wiping his head, trying to find even the slightest gap to slip in between, before finding nothing. The whispering continued getting louder, with a couple of words becoming audible.

"Genetic freak!"

"Worthless-"

"Good for nothing-"

"Homo-"

"Disgusting-"

"Monster-"

"Creepy-"

He covered his ears and forced his eyes closed, practically shaking by now. Why? Why was this happening to him? Why were they like this? When would this end? His knees buckled, pushing him to the ground. The weight of their words was unbearable. He nervously laughed, veering on the edge of hysterical.

"Heh... heheh... oh god, please stop... Stop. Stop. Stop.Stop.Stop. Stopstopstopstop stop STOP!"

As if on cue, the whispers began to quiet down. Gradually, gradually, gradually until it was silent again. He cautiously opened his eyes again, meeting once again with the pitch black of wherever he was. He stood back up, this time seeing a vague shape in the distance. As if something possessed him, he began walking towards it, not letting his gaze off of it. As he approached it, he could start to make out what it was. It was a large mirror.

It wasn't long before he reached the mirror and his reflection to stare back at him. It was him alright. Same messy black hair, same black eyes staring at himself, same pale skin. He looked older, however, and his eyes were less shiny than they usually were. The reflection was holding and rubbing his wrist. He could definitely see the dark, unsaturated red skin from under the reflection's hand. The more the reflection rubbed his wrists, the more his expression changed from neutral to pained. The pained expression became increasingly agonized as the reflection kept rubbing his wrist, eventually to the point he was about to scream, and the mirror cracked into multiple pieces as the reflection's voice cried out in pain.

He stumbled backward in shock, not sure if it was the mirror suddenly breaking or his reflection's cry that made him fling himself back onto the ground. However, he did know that as soon as he hit the ground, an image flashed before him. It was him, almost the same as the reflection, say for the fact that his clothing was covered in ash. The background of the image was orange and bright, so much so that the sheer brightness drowned out everything else that should be there.

The image faded from his mind, and he was brought back to the now broken mirror, which was now farther than it logically should've been. He got himself up and walked to the mirror once again, each step getting heavier and heavier with each step. Upon reaching the mirror again, his reflection was gone, replaced by a stone room with two human-like silhouettes motionless on the floor. The sounds of the rain emanating from the mirror tied the mystifying visual together. The room suddenly lit up, and he could make out four words, written out in blood. 'This is your fault.' The silhouettes illuminated with the flash, revealing themselves to be two bloodied and beaten bodies, laying in a pool of blood, both a male and a female.

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The sudden shock of seeing a gruesome sight made him let out a short, panicked breath. His eyes shot open, and he bolted upright, trying to catch his breath. He looked around, trying to find what was next. As his eyes took in more information, he relaxed, only seeing the walls of his room. Light peaked in through the blinds, illuminating the place ever so slightly.

"It was just a dream, Nestor..." He said, bringing his arms up around himself, hands beginning to rub his sides. He looked over to his alarm clock, reading the red 5:38 AM on it. He sighed before falling back on his pillow, arms not leaving his sides. His eyes wandered to the window next to him, watching the outside from the cracks of the small blinds. The decision to attempt to fall back asleep was made quickly, as the sounds of people arguing reached him.

"It was just a dream..."

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AN/Character Introduction:

BEHOLD! Nestor. My boy where if he got a hug in his childhood, he might've not ended up as a vigilante serial killer/arsonist. I'm not gonna give you a full-on bio because I want to show yall who he is instead of telling you. But yeah. I'm going to put the character in the title so as yall can find and keep my characters straight.