“Welcome to the midnight hour, little owl.”
Malakai Midnight sits on the edge of a bed, in which a young girl sleeps. She tosses and turns, her head snapping from side to side as she has a nightmare.
“When I was but a wee lad, I had vivid nightmares. They didn’t feel like dreams. I would awaken in my bed, covered in sweat. The things I’d see before my very eyes were haunting.”
He sighs, wincing slightly as he grasps at his chest. He’s feeling the effects of Doom’s booming fist from Vendetta last week.
“Bloodshed.”
His eyes become wide.
“Ghouls.”
He looks back at the girl.
“Terrors beyond anything I thought I could imagine – even more horrifying than a mad scientist or his weakened little best friend, that’s for certain.”
Midnight places a hand on the girl’s hair, soothing her. She stops thrashing.
“Awaking from a dream in a dream is a deception that even the vilest of minds should not concoct. An alluring falsity that leads to comfort, only to be dashed by the realisation of fear.
My screams would echo throughout the halls of our hostel. So much so that one night, Isaiah himself would come to comfort me. He explained that for me, it felt like a nightmare. It felt dangerous. It felt terrifying.
But it need not be. No. Isaiah explained that the devil was sending me messages; that I was a special boy to be communing with such a powerful entity. I was chosen. I had a purpose, you see.
He encouraged me to explore it. He encouraged me to meet my purpose head on and here I sit before you today, at midnight, hooting away.”
Suddenly, the girl abruptly awakens, gasping for air. Midnight carefully places a hand on her shoulder to let her know he’s there.
“Embrace it, little owl.”
She smiles softly at him, laying her head softly back onto the pillow.
“You’ve awoken in a dream, Narcissa.
And you’ve a choice to make. That dream has a purpose, a goal, and now so do you. What you’ve witnessed, what you’ve seen, no matter how much it terrifies you, is a fortune to behold.”
His smile becomes sinister.
“You’ve been given an opportunity to do something special. She beckons you, just like the devil did me. You have a choice now, Narcissa. You can bend the knee and give into her whim and accept her opportunity….
….Or you can awaken, cold with sweat, begging for it all to stop.”
Midnight looks at the girl who now smiles in her dream, standing up and walking towards the door.
“The terror stood before you was real…
And with it comes the Midnight Hour, little owl.”
He smirks.
“But don’t worry, we’ll have a hoot.”