[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/XZCyPaz.png[/img][/center] [center][h2]Waking and Warning[/h2][/center] [hr][center][color=silver]π•Žπ•–π••: 𝕆𝕔π•₯. 𝟟, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝔹𝕒𝕝𝕕 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕 π•€π•€π•π•’π•Ÿπ•• / / β„€π•™π•’π•Ÿπ•˜'𝕀 𝔼𝕀π•₯𝕒π•₯𝕖 / / ~𝟘𝟚𝟘𝟘[/color][/center][hr] It was his fault, honestly; he'd grown complacent, and now he was paying for it. A few weeks of only minor nightmares here and there had left him thinking that everything was fine. Now, as the cold sweat began to envelop his body, his dreaming mind was plagued by a guilty conscience yet again, taking the form of another night of terror for him. [hider Another Shattered Night] The scenery was burned again, but this time it was somewhere less familiar to him. An empty road, with debris and bodies lying everywhere. Featureless, save for the burned out truck that was tipped on its side, still smoking gently in the warm breeze. There were ruined bodies scattered around it, all charred to a crisp. He didn't have to investigate to know who they were. He was standing firm, pistol in his hand as he looked down at the man he was about to kill. The guy deserved this. Marcus was the judge, the jury, and the executioner here, his word was law and his actions were final. Only...it wasn't the man he was pointing at anymore. It was himself. He was grinning up at himself, a look on his own face that frightened him to the core. He couldn't quite place it, but it was somewhere between insanity and...hunger. "[color 33ec06]What would Callan think about this? Or Max? Or [i]Dad[/i]?[/color]" The dream-self spoke, pushing his head against the barrel. "[color 33ec06]Do it. You don't feel anything, remember? Why are you hesitating? Nobody else would. Not Brent. Not Ernie. Aren't you gonna...?[/color]" Before Marcus could answer, the figure had changed again. Siena, kneeling before the gun, wearing the same look upon her face. "[color ff57ff]Do it. Make the sacrifice. Do it now or I will [i]make you do it![/i][/color]" The sentence was shouted at him as he froze, Dream-Siena's hands reaching up his gun. As much as he tried to pull it away, he couldn't...her fingers found their mark, and squeezed. But the only sound was a soft voice. [i][color 8A3DFF]"Why?"[/color][/i] Emma. Hole in her head, right where the barrel was pressed. The blood was running down, across her face, into her mouth. "[color 8A3DFF]Why won't you let me go?[/color]" All she did was look at him. Her expression wasn't hunger...it was sadness. Sadness and fear. "[color 8A3DFF]Let me go.[/color]" Dream-Emma repeated, her voice growing in volume until she was shrieking in pain. "[color 8A3DFF]Let me go![/color]" Firm hands pulled the trigger again, Emma's head snapping back in impact. "[color 8A3DFF][b]Let me go![/b][/color]" Another shot, blasting another hole through her face as she looked up at him. "[color 8A3DFF][b]LET ME GO![/b][/color]" The volume of her yelling rose more and more until she was shouting at the top of her lungs, ending with her visceral screaming as it all faded away. As he watched in horror, Emma's screams were drowned out by silence, and he was only vaguely aware of the flames crawling over his face... [/hider] He lurched up in bed, breathing heavily as panicked tears threatened to well in his eyes. On his nightstand, his phone's screen was lit up. It must have been the notification that woke him. He rubbed his face, rolling towards the device and bringing it closer to his face to look at the screen. 23 Missed Calls. 7 New Voicemails. 1 New Message. [quote Max] We're fine. I've been trying to get a hold of you for the last few weeks! I don't know where you guys are since you left D.C, so let me know you're at least alright. Tell whoever's in charge that they had better damn well let you call me when you get a chance, or Sammie and I are going to come looking for you! [/quote] He sighed in relief, sitting up in his bed. She was fine. Nothing had happened, it had just been terrible reception like he'd thought. He took a moment to gather himself, typing out a quick return message. [quote Marcus] Sorry, we're at some sort of estate out on an island, and the phone reception is terrible. As soon as we get somewhere with better service, I'll call you immediately! [/quote] [i]Message Failed to Send[/i] He grumbled angrily. He'd have to remember to wander around in the morning, climb up a palm tree or something before Max flew a jet into the building. Setting the phone back on the stand, he laid his head back down on the pillow. The foggy images of his latest nightmare ran through his head again, Emma's screaming echoing in his mind like a catchy song. He involuntarily gave a small shudder, adjusting his position on the bed to stare up into the dark ceiling. Tonight was going to be another long night. [hr][center][color=silver]π•Žπ•–π••: 𝕆𝕔π•₯. 𝟟, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝔹𝕒𝕝𝕕 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕 π•€π•€π•π•’π•Ÿπ•• / / β„€π•™π•’π•Ÿπ•˜'𝕀 𝔼𝕀π•₯𝕒π•₯𝕖 / / ~𝟘𝟝𝟘𝟘[/color][/center][hr] If only he'd known how right he'd be. A warm glow outside his window was merciful enough to catch Marcus's eye, dragging his tired mind away from the darkness he'd been staring into for the last few hours or so. Between the periodic checking of his phone and the moments of silence, he'd nearly lost track of the time. He rose out of his bed, grabbing his phone and nearly yanking the charger out of the wall before he corrected his mistake and wandered over towards the window. He almost would have believed he was still in his hellish dreamscape with the way the scenery looked; something in the sky splashing the world with bright red shadows. He had only a few moments to unsuccessfully try and locate the shining object before something caught his ears: a sound he was disturbingly familiar with at this point - the heavy footsteps of people running and the muffled sound of shouting. He already had one of his shoes on when the skull-piercing sound of an alarm rang out, shocking what little grogginess he still had away. Nearby, sitting on the desk; the object he'd avoided since it had been delivered. A simple pistol, stuck in a simple holster. The gun that had been useless at Wisford. A small measure of safety...his only defense. '[i][color 00ffbb]You can kiss the team goodbye.[/color][/i]' It was better this way. Safer. He left the pistol sitting on the desk, slipping on his other shoe. He lunged for the door, only narrowly avoiding it as it flung open. The maid who'd barged in wasted no time in grabbing the slightly surprised Marcus and tugging her along with him, nearly yanking him off his feet. He needed no explanation however, and quickly caught up, his strides matching hers as the two of them sprinted through the hall. [hr] Everyone had finally made it down into the basement, and Marcus had wasted no time in doing a headcount, as he imagined everyone else had also done. He came up with one person missing, and it was none other than the rockstar herself, Angel. [color f7976a]"Dead until proven otherwise"[/color] The callousness of the statement impacted in Marcus's brain, and he found himself sitting on the opposite side of the fence. Hopefully Angel was fine. She could take care of herself in a pinch like this, and while the notice hadn't exactly been timely, it was something at least. He was grateful to have not woken up dead, and he hoped that wherever Angel was, she could say the same thing. He tried to ignore the sickened pit in his stomach, focusing on the conversation as it went around the room. "[color 33ec06]There's no point in sticking around. They caught us off guard, and it's best to assume that they're better manned and better equipped. All we can do is play defensively and see if we get the chance to retaliate later.[/color]" Marcus said, leaning on the wall nearby. His hair was slightly spiked up from the amount of times he worriedly run his hands through it, but he was mostly calmed down right now.