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“It hurts so much, doesn’t it?” Thomas voice was ever so clear as he looked him in the face, “What would you give now to not remember?”

Brian looked at him, trying not to focus on the pain, but failing miserably. The pills in his hands were smaller than he remembered, but he didn’t care. He was supposed to take them, he’d promised Leighanne he would. But they would make everything so much worse. They’d make him dizzy and defenseless and he would be alone with his thoughts that tormented him in every way possible.

They would.

Thomas said so.

“Did you ever tell anyone about those dreams?” Thomas wanted to know and Brian felt his throat starting to close up as he shook his head.

“It’s best they don’t know,” he whispered, letting the pills slowly fall from his hands into the sink. He watched, mesmerized, as the water took them down the drain, never to be seen again. He heard the muffled sounds of Bonnie’s nails scratching away at the door. The dog was frantic, doubtlessly sensing something entirely bad was happening. Brian smiled, watching the figure in the mirror do the same. The man’s hair was darker than Brian remembered, and his gaze was intense and unblinking, his blue eyes staring him down as he stared back. Brian couldn’t recognize him.

“You know they deserve it,” Thomas sneered close to his face and Brian gasped, taking a step back.

“What are you talking about?” he said.

“Your dreams, Brian,” Thomas smiled, circling him, his feet soundlessly padding the floor. “It’s so unfair, isn’t it?”

“No,” Brian mumbled, his back now pressing into the sink as Thomas loomed over him.

“Oh, come on!” Thomas yelled now, throwing his hands up in frustration, “Why should they be free from suffering when you go through it every single moment of every single day?”

“Shut up,” Brian said, but knew he sounded pathetic.

“You remember those dreams, don’t you?” Thomas taunted, “You remember how good it felt? How right?”

Brian clasped his hands together, stumbling to the toilet and sitting down as he clenched his eyes shut. Please, please God, let it stop. Please make it stop. I don’t want this. I can’t take this. Please.

“Has God ever really listened to you?” Thomas sneered, “I’m as real as he is, and yet I am here, I’m the one you can talk to.”

“No,” Brian whimpered, his eyes still closed as he continued to mumble in prayer.

“Remember when that monster got really creative and shoved that pipe up-”

Brian’s hands were around Thomas’ throat before he knew it. It felt so real, Thomas was as alive as he was, and still, Brian squeezed down on him. They fell to the floor, Thomas landing on his back and Brian jumped on top of him, his fingers still around the dark man’s throat. Thomas struggled, his hands clasping Brian’s and his feet scraping on the floor. “You can never escape, Brian,” he choked out between wheezing gasps. “I was his victim. You were his prize. He would never let you go. It’s all a lie.”

Brian let go and stumbled back, shaking all over. Thomas quickly got to his feet, like nothing ever happened. “I’m dead, Brian,” he reminded him, “I can never suffer again like you did. Like you do.”

“What are their names?” Brian whispered, barely aware of his dog’s cries outside of the door.

“Remember what you did to her in your dreams?” Thomas smiled reassuringly and Brian saw a glinting knife in his grasp.

Brian nodded slowly, his hands turning into fists. “She deserved it.”

Thomas shook his head, “No,” he said, “No, she didn’t.”

Brian looked at him questioningly.

“But neither did we.”