Nightmares Come TRUE

Ed’s hand retreated again, returning to that bus-sized D-SLR camera, and Chase had to swallow his resentment and his fascination for the gaming relic he’d landed on.

He couldn’t let this shot prove anything more than the others had.

The red light was his cue to shrug and stretch his legs out, crossing them at the ankles. Casual and unbothered, he shook his head at the camera. “It’s fake, you know. It’s all movie magic. You’re fake, I’m fake, the camera’s fake too!” He laughed a bit and gestured at his shoes, worn out high top converse. “This isn’t even a dress rehearsal, I’m wearing All Stars! You think they make All Stars smaller than a gameboy? Fake fake FAKE—”

Take 6

Chase flinched as the pencil landed right in front of him. Normally such a quiet sound, it nearly hurt his ears with the familiar but amplified hollow clatter as it bounced a few times before settling at his feet. The red eye of the camera already blinked a warning at him and he had to suppress a glare at the man behind it.

Instead, he dramatically held out his hands to gesture at the pencil, a classic yellow No. 2 with a dull point and a lopsided eraser. His eyes found dents and scratches in the wood that he hoped the camera couldn’t pick up, because it’d make the damn thing look as real as it was. He had to convince any viewer of the opposite.

“Wow, wowee, look at this very real giant pencil! Why, I couldn’t even lift it for it is so very big!” he declared, keeping his delivery as wooden as the pencil before him. “What. Could. Have. Caused this?”

Then, the awkward demeanor fell away as he looked up, right at the camera, and pointed confidently at his own faint reflection in the lens above. “Want more like this hand crafted, one of a kind novelty prop? Ed and Harry’s Really Big Prop Emporium is coming soon! Keep an eye out for our website with more details on how to order custom giant props! Making a movie? Doing a play? Just a little bit freaky? Call Ed and Harry—”

Take 8

Something about being dropped unceremoniously on a paper plate made Chase want to curl up into a ball and tune out the whole world. The fact that there was a whole goddamn twinkie next to him, bigger than him, only sharpened that desire. The unnaturally yellow sponge smelled like oil and sugar and he thought that if he touched it, his hand might get stuck. He could only thank his luck that he wasn’t sharing the plate with a Hostess snack for any food related reason, because at his size he’d be an easier morsel than the stupid twinkie.

The red eye watched him, always. He couldn’t run out of improvisations while that D-SLR had any battery. He couldn’t let his horror show.

He scrambled to his feet and grinned off to the side as if talking to someone his own height. “Wow, Harry, your papier mache skills are incredible! You could put this fucking thing on a billboard!”

“But I didn’t—”

“Shut UP, Harry—”

Take 11

With the simple comparisons not working and a lot more unfinished commercials for Ed and Harry’s Really Big Prop Emporium behind them, Chase’s would be nemeses decided to go hands-on again. Despite himself, Chase turned to run from Harry’s next reach after Ed directed another try. This time, he only made it a few steps before his run came to a halt and he yanked back. The back of his jacket, caught in a pinch between a finger and a thumb that outmatched him, hauled him backwards.

Chase grimaced in spite of himself as the jacket dug under his arms and he swept into the air, coming to a stop maybe a foot off the table again, maybe more. It was hard to tell with his head swimming from the quick, lurching movements. Harry held him up and Chase saw a glimpse of a smug look from Ed before he lifted the camera again.

He flipped the old reliable double birds again, just before the sound of a shutter clicked in the camera. Chase forced a grin onto his face despite the worry that he’d slip right out of his jacket. He couldn’t put his arms down, though, not without risking everything.

There was an annoyed sigh, and a setting changed on the camera in Ed’s hands. The hand swayed, though Chase couldn’t tell if it was on purpose or just a fidget from Harry. Either way, he had to draw his arms back to himself or really risk being jostled out of his jacket. No matter. The camera switched back to video and he smiled right at it again.

“Harnesses working alright,” he said. He took a risk and kicked his legs a few times, making himself sway and wishing he hadn’t. But the fucking show must go on. “Could we do something about the chafing though? Feels like it’s gonna cut off my circ—”

Take 16

Harry got the camera next. Ed had to get up and pace in his frustration, and as he did he remembered all the fast food they’d gone to get. He was preparing that while Harry fiddled with the camera, trying to figure out what sort of scene to create with it.

Chase realized a few seconds too late that Harry had already started filming, but it didn’t seem to matter. He lay flat on his back on the table, some mix of bored and scared, so when the red eye blinked on he heaved a sigh and held both hands aloft, this time making a lewd gesture with them. He hummed an off-key tune like some kind of elevator music as he did so. This one might not work as well, but then again Ed was ruining the audio with all the sound of the food wrappings. No one was at their best after a long day of filming.

“Oh the camera’s on—”

Take 20

Chase’s shoulders were up to his ears after the loud, oppressive sound of a thick glass tumbler landed over where he sat. The glass was a bit dusty but otherwise clear, and he stared with wide eyes out at the two that loomed over the table just by sitting there. He stared up at a golden round shape of a tater tot, pinched in two fingers overhead. The ultimatum hung overhead too, and he wondered if it was true.

Harry didn’t seem convinced, but Ed was sure Chase would let them get one good shot for a chance at that deep fried potato. Surely, he had to be hungry after all his antics.

Whether he was or not, Chase wasn’t that stupid. But he eventually got over the shock of being trapped under a glass. There were a lot more people at stake than just himself, and he could hold out for them. Ed might think he had him all figured out, just because Chase was small enough to trap under a small glass.

He lifted a hand and beckoned with it. “Alright, Eddie, gimme a fucking close up,” he said, almost faltering at the way his voice echoed back at him under the glass.

That smug look returned, one that Chase wished Jacob or Sam or Dean or anyone was around to punch. But Ed complied, moving the camera closer to the glass. It was inches away, but out of reach. Chase saw the reflection of himself under the glass in that warped lens, and shifted so he sat on his knees instead, since he couldn’t stand up. “Ready?” rumbled overhead. He nodded.