#prester-centric

Sneak Peek:

He was being watched. He could feel it.

Prester opened his blurry eyes, still heavy with sleep. He stared up at the ceiling of his bed chambers, painted pitch black from the night’s darkness. It was quite late… or perhaps, way too early? Whichever it may be, it was not a normal time for an old man like him to be waking up.

He knew the routine by now. It was not every night, but it surely wasn’t rare. Sleep paralysis. He tried to lift a leg, and then an arm, finding them both to be insurmountably heavy. Indeed, his gut reaction was right, but he didn’t know whether to be silently proud or dreading of his correctness. Prester never liked the ‘not being able to move or speak’ part, he was a man of many words and actions after all. But, then again, he doubted many sufferers of this particular ailment liked that part.

Forcing his crimson-red pupils down towards the foot of his bed, he saw a glowing baby-blue pair gaze right back at him. Ah, so it truly was going to be one of those nights, wasn’t it? He mentally addressed the ‘man’ of the hour who, in turn, began to climb up onto the bed with him.

The Suit who always visited him on these types of nights.

The Skelecog who he hadn’t truly seen in years.