#sonofanun

Yep, Mox thinks, staring feverishly up at Krueger. I am officially losing my mind. The only surprising part is how long it's taken.

His hand drifts to the stitches on his side. They're loose. The intention is to cut them open, again, within a few days. He knows that. Has already been through it. Can only take so much of shit shoved under his skin before the screams become incoherent pleading. It's pathetic, it's annoying, and quite frankly if they intend to flay him, they should fucking get on with it already and let him die.

Every time he wakes up here, ever time his crusted eyes open and he's hit with pain and dim light again, he rues that he's still breathing but can't summon the willpower to end it himself in the few ways presently accessible to him.

He might regret that eventually.

"You could do me a favor and slit my throat right now. You've got the blades for it." He exhales and closes his eyes, expecting this to be over by the time they're open again. Just a symptom of a fracturing mind.

One eye cracks back open. Krueger's still there. Fuck's sake.

Fred: *points at self* It's me I'm dead

bad dreams.

A long time ago, something inside him changed. He'd spent a lot of time thinking about it, how can you not? Ever since he was a boy, he'd been plagued by bad dreams. He used to call them nightmares, when the contents involved things like the demon over his shoulder, in the corner of his eye, burnt to a crisp, knives for fingers. He calls them bad dreams now. There are no monsters, no demons, not usually. Just his hands, and what they've done.

He's been swinging the axe all night, underwater, arms made of rubber, someone who used to be his friend just won't die. He knows he's dreaming. It only took three swings in real life before he went quiet forever. This guy just won't shut up.

It feels like an epiphany, it feels like the voice of God, cutting through dreadful echo from his past, you can't kill something that's already dead. The thing in the corner of his eye deserved his attention. He turns, he's covered in blood, twitching like a cornered rat.