Peter Vincent (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
fuckingebay) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
onepassingnight2011-09-17 09:56 pm
fuckingebay) wrote in onepassingnight2011-09-17 09:56 pm
001 || kicking off with a nightmare
It starts off innocuous enough. He's walking in a suburban neighborhood in daylight, kicking a can down the sidewalk. As if anybody does that anymore. He thinks it's odd that nobody's out and about this time of day, but doesn't think to address it.
...Until the sun moves behind a cloud, and suddenly it's much darker than it ought to be. The sky is choked by clouds. The can skitters a few more feet down the sidewalk and then clatters to a stop, giving way to complete silence.
Peter turns to look at the house on his left, and sees that the windows are blacked out.
Something makes him jump, makes him run. He thinks he saw a hand start to creep its way through the yellow grass. Even if he didn't see it, he felt it. The vampires are coming.
The street stretches out endless in front of him. White arms with crooked, reaching fingers are digging their way out of neglected front gardens. Peter runs past house after house after house, all identical, all hollow and deserted. Every window black.
[OOC: WARNING for a high probability of blood and disturbing imagery in the threads. If you'd rather not have it come to that, let me know and we can either plot out a different ending, or the dream can end before things get too far.]
...Until the sun moves behind a cloud, and suddenly it's much darker than it ought to be. The sky is choked by clouds. The can skitters a few more feet down the sidewalk and then clatters to a stop, giving way to complete silence.
Peter turns to look at the house on his left, and sees that the windows are blacked out.
Something makes him jump, makes him run. He thinks he saw a hand start to creep its way through the yellow grass. Even if he didn't see it, he felt it. The vampires are coming.
The street stretches out endless in front of him. White arms with crooked, reaching fingers are digging their way out of neglected front gardens. Peter runs past house after house after house, all identical, all hollow and deserted. Every window black.
[OOC: WARNING for a high probability of blood and disturbing imagery in the threads. If you'd rather not have it come to that, let me know and we can either plot out a different ending, or the dream can end before things get too far.]