<div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family:Sofia"><span style="font-size: 26px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#330066"><b><i><u>Dexter</u></i></b></span></span></span>​</div><br/>He expected darkness but it was bright.  Too bright.  Everything was white and his eyes were watering, even as he blinked rapidly his eyes never seemed to adjust.  He went to cover his eyes, but a pinching against the back of his hand and the way his arm wouldn’t move alarmed him.  He blinked down at his hand, the IV sticking through the back of it and the leather cuff around his wrist.  The other arm and his legs were treated the same way minus the IVs.  He was dressed all in white and the room was familiar in a terrifying way.<br/><br/>“No no no,” he muttered, yanking on the cuffs.<br/><br/>“Oh, he’s awake finally.”<br/><br/>Dex’s body went cold at the sound of the familiar voice.  It was a voice he hadn’t heard in nearly a decade.  Slowly, even as he shut his eyes, he turned his head, not wanting to see what he knew would be there.<br/><br/>“Pleasant dreams?”  The doctor crooned at him even as Dex tried to will himself to wake up.  He was still sleeping right?<br/><br/>“Lucas!” He yelled, knowing that even if he was asleep, the demon would hear him call out for him.  Only, Lucas never showed up.  Instead, there was someone else in the corner of the room.  Someone he had seen in the back of the car.<br/><br/>“I don’t know who you’re talking to, boy, but he’s not coming.”  And he wasn’t.  There was no brunette appearing in the room blurred by black smoke and hell fire.  There were no golden eyes in the corner of the room, nor was there sight of the familiar blue skin. There was only neon green and white skin, stretched across misshapen bone.  Whoever was in the corner was not Lucas.  Was the doctor right?  Had all of this been a dream?  And was he still dreaming?<br/><br/>“Now, let’s see what this dose of medicine does.  The last were very lucid dreaming.”  His attention was brought back to the doctor who was filling a syringe before plunging it into his IV.<br/><br/>Pain.  White burning pain laced up his arms.<br/><br/>He screamed.<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-size: 26px"><b>~~~~~~~~~~</b></span><br/>
<span style="font-family:Quintessential"><span style="font-size: 26px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000"><b><u>Deimos</u></b></span></span></span><br/>​</div>Deimos stood in the corner of the room, the blond on the bed.  The ghost at his side paid no attention to the demon, but the kid locked eyes on him and Deimos grinned.  The kid was tough, he'd give him that.  His nightmares didn't exist in his realm, but in the actual world itself.<br/><br/>Oh well, onto more difficult challenges.  He shimmered out of one castle tower and into another.  Instead of a clean neat bed, beautiful ornate furniture and flowers in the window, this room was in shambles.  There was broken wood scattered, torn curtains and fabric hanging from them, there was one picture on the wall, but claw marks had torn the canvas deep enough to score the stone wall behind it.<br/><br/>The only intact and beautiful furniture that furnished the room was a silver mirror along the far wall.  It was a beautiful piece, seeming to give off a soft glow.  It was the creature in front of the mirror that caught his attention however.  Blue skin stretched across the warped bones.<br/><br/>“Well, this all seems horrible.  Enjoying your room?”  He knew he wasn’t and the thought made him smile, the look less demented on his human form which he’d chosen to take this time.