A/N: I guess I must have felt that since the last one was short, I needed to make this one lengthy. I was thinking about making this SeaMexican, but... I like the thought of Ohm having a scary side.
The support from the last one-shot surprised me. I'm glad I'm putting out good content for you guys.
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Incubus, n. (in-kyu-bis)
1. (archaic) nightmare
2. A cause of distress or anxiety
3. A male demon counterpart to the succubus, who brings death or illness through lying with their sleeping partner.
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Max was running.
He turned a corner sharply, fighting urge to look behind him while his feet slapped the wet ground, sending splattering water onto his ankles and jeans. He didn't notice, and if he had noticed it was extremely unlikely he may have stopped to roll up the bottoms at a time like this.
His feet and breaths were overwhelming to his ears, but some part of him understood it was mostly overrun by cars passing and splashing on the roads. God damn it, he could really use with more of those noises.
Finally, he could run no more and pushed his back against the wet brick of some office building against the sidewalk, gulping air down in a way he was sure would be embarrassing if he were doing this for any other reason. Sedentary lifestyle had not done him well, and he resolved that if he survived this he was going to exercise the hell out of himself. Rain slicked his hair and dropped slowly down his chin, leaving his shirt uncomfortably clingy to his stomach and chest. He was half tempted to just do away with it, but made no action to do so.
The dream was always the same.
Slowly, he peaked around the corner to see the road had cleared, leaving only the streetlights to light his way in patches. He was more cautious now, an overwhelming sense of danger and anticipation of being attacked dominating his thoughts.
He mentally snapped at himself, walking at a brisker pace towards his unknown destination. He refused to allow himself to panic in any way, shape, or form while fighting hell. At least, he was pretty sure it was hell. As per usual, he couldn't remember what was at the end of these lights in his path. Something horrible, he felt, something which he didn't desire to see.
He kept walking.
The rain continued its way down, but Max didn't feel its contact anymore, only its presence in the dripping gutters and pattering against cement. The sound drove him half-crazy, something in his head not allowing him to block the noise out. The sounds intermingled with irritating regularity, like some sort of song that could be related to fingernails on a fucking chalkboard and shit.
Max felt his breath coming fast again and closed his eyes to steady himself, but got no chance as a sudden sound echoed in his mind and forced his lids back up.
The damn lights were off now, leaving him in total darkness he was fully aware wasn't natural, a fact that rather than providing comfort provided a sense of dread.
One streetlight turned on down the street, acting as a spotlight on what was beneath it.
Max was running again, a feeling of heavy desperation within him forcing his legs to work even though his mind protested against revealing whatever it was his nightmare wished him to see. When it came into view and he felt bile rising in his throat, he wished he'd listened better.
Tears formed in his eyes and he backed against some black, shapeless wall, uncontrollably shaky. His sobs were so choking that before long he was dry-heaving, hiccups entwining in symphony with ragged breaths and gasps and swallows and swears and prayers.
Fuck.
The streets were running with blood by the time he actually gathered the strength to look forward again, not that he really desired to do so. It trailed in rivers downhill, and glinted and sparkled prominently under the single source of illumination, blending perfectly with the darkness until it was out of sight. That was the easy part though, because all that was were implications of what true horror existed in his vision.
Familiar bodies and pieces of bodies with a frightening look of liveliness to them were piled at least ten feet high in a disgusting pile of gore and death. He flinched violently when he thought he saw Nick blink at him from the near bottom, and it drew his attention to Jordan's chest lifting irregularly with blank eyes, and Adam's disconnected fingers twitching as though they still had effort and stubbornness within them. They were... living? No, he wouldn't dare call this living, if that's close to what it was. They were horribly disfigured and inhuman. He pulled himself from the wall and ran forward as though his presence may provide some amount of assistance, but hissed incomprehensible words rose from the tangled mess and his feet refused to move off the sidewalk. He was overwhelmed once more by panic and scanned the... whatever it was with frantic glances.
Adam... Minx... Chilled... Ze... Renee... Ritz... Jordan... His mother, father, grandparents, brother... Mathas... Sp00n... Diction... Utorak....
His glances became faster, not wanting to settle on any one face for too long but also holding his breath in hope his confusion had a stand. All these people, but he didn't see... the one face...?
He felt something collide with his back and holding him tightly, leaving the Mexican to jump violently and struggle but to no avail. He froze when a chin dropped onto his shoulder and he was hit with an overwhelmingly familiar scent so suddenly his mind was sent reeling in effort to comprehend. He turned his head slowly, and his confusion only increased.
It was Ohm alright, a very cheery looking Ohm as a matter of fact, not that he could see much besides his lips and the dimples their upturned selves created on his cheeks. He had a ridiculous sort of silver mask that covered his eyes and nose. Max wondered if he could even see anything out of it. Suddenly, Ohm turned his own head and smiled brightly at the Mexican who he held with an almost painful grip, as though Max wasn't so traumatized he felt an inch away from breaking. He opened his mouth as though to say something (what, he had not even the slightest idea), but sound refused to come out. Seeing the issue, Ohm tilted his head and released Max, confidently holding onto both his hands with a light touch. So apparently he could see, or something. Max wasn't thinking much of anything at the moment.
A cold hand reached up to his face and swiped away tears he wasn't even aware were still running hurriedly, now that his attention focus had changed and he wasn't sobbing anymore. Instinctively he tried to flinch away, but the remaining hand tightened on his wrist. All his senses were screaming to him that something was extremely wrong, something with Ohm and with this whole fucked up thing his mind had conceived. Barely even realizing what he was doing he began trying to yank his arms free but was completely unsuccessful. Ohm was still smiling, a gentle look which was beginning to terrify Max. Finally, arms sore, he let them go slack and Ohm pushed his freezing fingers up and to Max's shoulders. Ohm wasn't... he wasn't ever strong, not like this. Not any more than Max. He also ran warm. Well, he also wasn't creepy and sadistic as hell, but that should be a given.
He spoke with Ohm's voice, though.
"Are you scared, Max?" He asked, the same teasing and light tone he'd heard millions of times before. It was chilling, and he didn't even pay attention to the words. When he didn't get a response, Max felt his breath wheeze out of his chest when he back was slammed against a rough brick wall, further away from the light than Max desired to be.
"You better fucking be," Ohm muttered suddenly, his tone shockingly darker than it had been. Before Max could recollect what he better fucking be, he felt his vision fade to black and his senses disappear into nothing.
-/-/-/-/-/-
When Max's existence returned from wherever his mind had been sent (and it had been freaky as hell too), it was a slow awakening. The ground below him was hard and cold, but smoother and drier than the sidewalk outside which meant he had to be... indoors? His head ached, an alien sense within a dream. He felt fuzzy and uncomfortable. He was beginning to sit up slowly when he was suddenly hit with the full understanding of what had just happened like a train, and was back down on the ground with heavy breathing and sobs and all that shit before he could stop himself, or think at all. He heard a door open and hadn't even realized he had been shut away in a room until the noise hit his ears.
He tried to stop the building terror, but his efforts were for naught. He felt himself being sat up and tugged into arms, and he didn't care if the owner of the arms was so clearly not really himself; he latched on and allowed himself to be held in hopes it would slow whatever was brimming within him. Shockingly it worked, and an exhausted Max felt himself slowly being dragged back into sleep.
Ohm had other plans.
Something very sharp, metal, and cold located a precarious spot on his neck, waking Max up in a heartbeat- or rather, the skipping of one. His reddened and sore eyes opened rapidly, his fuzzy vision attempting to focus on Ohm's face above him. It wasn't working. He felt his panic building up threefold, and Ohm made a shushing sound while tugging the blunt side of the blade gingerly across his chin, mocking a caressing motion. Max tried to hold his breath but was unable to do so, falling into a body shaking exhale.
"What- what are you going to-" Max began to question with what control he could manage, but was cut off by the tip of the blade being twisted with the lightness of a feather on the delicate skin of his wrist. Ohm appeared pleased with the shaking that ensued because he didn't change the action, instead moving his other hand through Max's hair and humming some vaguely familiar song. The simultaneous caring and threatening touches were driving Max crazy with anxiety, and he wanted one or the other to be chosen already.
"You know I don't love you," Ohm said, the casualness of his voice making Max flinch. It was like they were having a normal conversation or something, at least from Ohm's end. "I think I said it once or twice, but it was only because you're so hilariously naïve you believed it. Hook and sinker and shit." His hand in Max's hair dragged back and yanked, making Max gasp in pain and try to pull away. Ohm applied pressure with the knife and Max froze again, seeming much more agreeable now.
"I'm going to do to you exactly what I did to them. Because you're even less to me than what they were. A finger-" the knife twisted and Max arched his back in agony, screaming out as his ring and pinky fingers were crudely cut from his hand, bone and all. Ohm silenced him abruptly with a rough kiss that sucked Max's breath away and left him more exhausted than before, rather than energized as such an action would usually cause. Tears sprang up in Max's eyes as Ohm pulled away and pushed the fingers carelessly to the side, the man turning his face into Ohm's chest as though he could hide. Ohm chuckled, and resumed.
"Or all your fingers, but that can be saved for later. I'll carve your eyes from your head and keep the optic nerves connected, so you can see them dangling and feel their pain."
The knife moved and Max jerked, expecting the next assault. He tightened up closely to Ohm, and heard the knife clutter to the stone ground a few seconds later. Hope dared to trespass in his mind a few moments, but instead Ohm shoved Max's shivering self off him and to the ground.
"Pathetic that you're already broken," Ohm hummed in disappointment. "It won't be any fun at all."
"Please, Ohm..." Max cried out, holding his arms on the ground and concealing his face in them instead. "Please, leave me alone, don't do this... please...."
...
"-ax! Max wake up!"
Someone was shaking his shoulders, and still only half awake Max cried out in terror and ducked his head onto what he expected to be a pillow, but actually turned out to be a warm chest. He accepted it, shivering even as he realized that he had just exited a nightmare. And... not the first of that sort.
He felt around the blankets as he tried to calm himself down until he found a hand, which quickly squeezed his fingers to prove their presence. Max breathed out loudly, a sigh of relief that made his makeshift pillow chuckle half-heartedly. Max lifted the hand up to his mouth and pressed it tightly against his lips, confirming important things like the fact that the man next to him was warm and harmless and most definitely did love him. A few minutes later he removed his head from the chest and pulled Ohm close to him instead, something which seemed to confuse his boyfriend but was allowed.
"Max?" Ohm questioned, visible eyes holding clear concern even with his joking tone. "What, did you think you were rid of me or something?"
Max just shook his head, setting his face is Ohm's hair and keeping his hand entwined with Ohm's. "It was... another nightmare. Nothing too big, let's just go back to sleep."
Ohm yawned, obviously not intending to argue. He muttered something about Max not having to be such a man and not tell him things like these, but Max just shushed him impatiently and held on tightly until he felt the man fully relax. When he did, Max spent a few tense moment scanning his unmasked face.
Ohm was... Ohm, just like always. He was always just Ohm. Exactly what he needed to be. Confident but still with a turning stomach, Max went to work on falling asleep next to him and forgetting it as well as he could, exactly the same as with all the other nightmares over the past few weeks.
Inside Ohm's head, he was unsatisfied and thinking about what things he could possibly change for the next time.