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Shut the light, heavy thoughts tonight
The dreams got worse and worse, to the point where Krem now actively avoided sleep, if he could. He knew, as the days went on, concern grew around the house, and things had been anxious and strained lately. Things were surreal, bizarre. Aggie was a fidgety, staticky thing. Hild was plagued with fits of misbehavior and cruelty that was unlike her in any way he'd ever known her. Gannicus was a constant, but the unreliability of the rest of them was a strain.
Guilt chewed at Krem, and that made it worse. It all fed in on itself. The nightmares chewed at his self-loathing and doubts, fed on his guilt, fed on the anxieties in the house, and so forth into perpetuity. There was no escaping the serpent consuming its own tail.
It didn't help that the city itself seemed on the brink of madness. Krem ignored it, as best he could. It was all he could do, really. He didn't want to think about it, about the endless possibilities of what a population like Darrows could get up to in a twelve hour period. There was no point in speculation. Hopefully it would all blow over. Hopefully, Krem wouldn't have gone made by then.
For tonight, though, the nightmares had gotten to him again, and staying inside the house was proving hopefully. He'd stepped out. The night seemed unseasonably warm, or maybe it was just the sensation of his skin crawling. When had he slept last? He couldn't remember. Krem headed toward the barn, because he thought the loft might be nice, warm and familiar and smelling of hay and the newer roofing and everything else. It was dark, and quiet inside, and he stood silently just inside the door, just breathing, as if his eyes might adjust to the almost complete absence of light.
Guilt chewed at Krem, and that made it worse. It all fed in on itself. The nightmares chewed at his self-loathing and doubts, fed on his guilt, fed on the anxieties in the house, and so forth into perpetuity. There was no escaping the serpent consuming its own tail.
It didn't help that the city itself seemed on the brink of madness. Krem ignored it, as best he could. It was all he could do, really. He didn't want to think about it, about the endless possibilities of what a population like Darrows could get up to in a twelve hour period. There was no point in speculation. Hopefully it would all blow over. Hopefully, Krem wouldn't have gone made by then.
For tonight, though, the nightmares had gotten to him again, and staying inside the house was proving hopefully. He'd stepped out. The night seemed unseasonably warm, or maybe it was just the sensation of his skin crawling. When had he slept last? He couldn't remember. Krem headed toward the barn, because he thought the loft might be nice, warm and familiar and smelling of hay and the newer roofing and everything else. It was dark, and quiet inside, and he stood silently just inside the door, just breathing, as if his eyes might adjust to the almost complete absence of light.