So. As the title reads. I have something I need to get out of my head.

I had a... dream... a few days ago and the thought of it won't leave. It was -disturbing-

I would write it and put it up in Tales of Then || Short Stories, like I did with a nightmare I had, but this one doesn't really follow a good story line. So—

Imma just leave it here.

*warning: if gory stuff bothers you, I don't recommend reading below*

So.

Maybe I'll try to kinda put it into story format for you. So it isn't as boring

Anyways

It wasn't safe to go above. The tunnels—they were the safest place to be right now. Even if (... thinks of a name...) Lanie was surrounded by a small group of strangers.

Only dim light from a lantern permeated the darkness, her eyes only just being able to make out those she didn't know around her. There were probably only seven other people down underground with her, all coming down in a vain hope to survive. A hope that maybe they'd find a little comfort down here.

But it was hard to find comfort when someone wasn't quite... right. (Struggles to come up with another name, especially since I don't remember the gender) Gary didn't act normal.

His eyes spoke of things a sane person wouldn't understand. His hand shook not with fear but with something else. He looked sick—in the mind.

But time passed and even the disconcerting feeling surrounding Gary became an inconsequential thing. Lanie's eyes became sandpaper, scraping sluggishly every time she blinked. And eventually, the sleep that had prowled and taken over all her companions found her as well.

*

She awoke late in what had to be the night to agonized moaning.

Is someone sick? She thought. Did someone stub their toe?

Groggily, she looked up.

Only to find Gary, smiling sickeningly. He held a scalpel in his hand.

And then Lanie's eyes landed on another one of her companions: a bald man she had yet to know the name of.

He was gray, his very skin so unnaturally gray as he groaned, as pain and the absence of lucidity shinned in his eyes.

And she saw his leg.

But it wasn't his leg.

Where his own leg was supposed to be was the leg of another person, the skin color ever so slightly different.

And yet, through the gray hair, she could see the graying skin, the bloating of something that was once alive but now dead. And she saw the ragged stitches connecting the leg to the man and the blood shinning on the floor underneath him.

Lanie had enough training as a nurse to know the man was dying. Blood loss would be a factor, and infection would no doubt set in, but the blood of that dead leg wouldn't match the mans own blood type. The mixing of bloods would kill him.

You know what? I think I might as well put this in my short story thing...I'll call it *motions in front of me in an arc* 'Frankenstein'

But mannnn I'm glad I woke up when I did otherwise it'd probably really turn into a nightmare.

*shudders*

And then I had two other dreams later that night. I don't remember what they were but I do know they were also disturbing and verging on a nightmare.

But thankfully, although it was disturbing, it wasn't a nightmare (at least not to me).

***also sorry about any grammatical and/or spelling mistakes. It's purty late so my mind isn't working so well***

And now it's really late, my eyes are full of sleepiness and I have to sleep but I don't          w a n n a.