[ He had thought the hallucinations to be the work of another goblin, the dark mist to encompass him each time a similar form to that he assumed. However, the name on his hand went beyond any prank. As those belonging to the night began to flood the network, it grew apparent others had experienced the same visions through dreams. Whatever was responsible, God or otherwise, was strong enough to influence monsters dreams and inflict pain on their bodies. Maybe even kill them.
Reaching to touch the open wound, he winces and clenches his hand. Blood trickles down his arm and onto the table, a grunt escaping him at the pain. Pulling himself to his feet, Stan begins to make for the diner door. The waitress calls to him but he hears nothing over the sound of his heart, pounding in his ears as fear consumes him. Were it true, the brand on their hands confirmation of death to come, he fears the fate of the two monsters who lay in bed and a brother whom he'd only just got back. The Mystery Wagon roars to life, its headlights piercing through the night as he slams the pedal against the floor and makes for the shack, in his dust another unpaid check.
Stan announces his arrival the moment he crashes into a sign outside the Pines residence. He leaves the vehicle against the fallen sign, nothing short of his usual parking, and heads inside to the kids bedroom. Heavy, hurried steps carry him up the stairs, the door nearly pulled off its hinges with the force behind it. Are they awake? Are they marked as well? How long until those bearing their name came looking for them? ]
1:01 AM
[ He had thought the hallucinations to be the work of another goblin, the dark mist to encompass him each time a similar form to that he assumed. However, the name on his hand went beyond any prank. As those belonging to the night began to flood the network, it grew apparent others had experienced the same visions through dreams. Whatever was responsible, God or otherwise, was strong enough to influence monsters dreams and inflict pain on their bodies. Maybe even kill them.
Reaching to touch the open wound, he winces and clenches his hand. Blood trickles down his arm and onto the table, a grunt escaping him at the pain. Pulling himself to his feet, Stan begins to make for the diner door. The waitress calls to him but he hears nothing over the sound of his heart, pounding in his ears as fear consumes him. Were it true, the brand on their hands confirmation of death to come, he fears the fate of the two monsters who lay in bed and a brother whom he'd only just got back. The Mystery Wagon roars to life, its headlights piercing through the night as he slams the pedal against the floor and makes for the shack, in his dust another unpaid check.
Stan announces his arrival the moment he crashes into a sign outside the Pines residence. He leaves the vehicle against the fallen sign, nothing short of his usual parking, and heads inside to the kids bedroom. Heavy, hurried steps carry him up the stairs, the door nearly pulled off its hinges with the force behind it. Are they awake? Are they marked as well? How long until those bearing their name came looking for them? ]
Kids! I need to see your hands!