I just couldn't sleep.

I twist and turn in my uncomfortably large bed, as I try to find a position I could nod off in. I'm too sweaty and too distracted. My clothes feel wet.

Yuck.

And, when I somehow manage to sleep, I have nightmares.

Just fucking peachy.

I'm having all sorts of nightmares a person could possibly have. I mean, what are the odds of dreaming about me dying every day of the week?

Tonight is no different. If weird dreams was a competition, I'd totally bag the first prize.

It began with my body slamming against a bright red firetruck. Which was cool and all, till my body hurt in places I had no clue. The dream shifts, and I am smack in the center of a wild centaur ambush. I run cluelessly to avoid a rather painful death, but to no avail. I am trapped under a black centaur and the last thing I see is not so pleasant, as it tramples me to an early grave. 

The dream shifts again. I am trapped in a high tower, battling a four-faced dragon, trying hard to get to my princess. The creature grunts, and I throw up my shield against the raging fire that erupts from its nostrils a second later, effectively turning me into Dan Barbeque.

The dream shifts, and I find myself in a big pile of dog poop. I groan. I'm back in the cell of Hades' dog.

When the dream shifts again, after the dog threw away the remnants of my body, I'm in a dark, dark, dark alley. A massive dark shape looms over me. It appears to be crouching over something - or rather, someone.

I step forward for a closer look. The figure has dark purple hair, spread over the ground like expensive silk. It is a woman, and my mouth falls open when I realize that it is a woman who is rapidly turning into ice. Thick frost envelops her body and her pale face at an alarmingly fast rate. Even her purple hair is turning light blue in front of my eyes.

The massive dark shape sets down something long and blue and looks awfully like a sword next to the woman's body. It then scoops up something from near the woman; the way one would scoop up water from a pond. It raises its palms to where I assume would be it's mouth and gulps audibly. It's drinking it, maybe? 

Drinking what, exactly?

My jaw goes slack again as it dawns on me.

The creature is drinking blood. Blood of the poor ice-woman.

This dream is different from the rest. I didn't get killed in it, for one, and it seems more realistic, as though this is happening someplace right now. It makes me wince in distaste.

I'm suddenly thrown off my feet by a power message. It hits me square in the chest, but it doesn't sting. It is weak and a little faint, but I hear it, crystal clear, as the air around me resonates with a single word.

Danny... Danny... Danny...

I sit up with a jolt, wide awake. If my shirt was wet before, it is definitely wetter now. My forehead is beaded with sweat, and my skin has broken out in goosebumps. My hands are shaking beyond control.

'No,' I say out loud, to no one in particular. 'No, it can't be.'

But there is no mistaking the voice. And the purple hair is a dead giveaway. 

The ice-woman is Emily Brethon, my sister.

***

Meet Danny.