New

Ok, the dream has been progressing at an alarming rate… progressing might not actually be the right word here, but I don’t know what else to use. Let me explain,
BEFORE: I would be surrounded by darkness and have and overwhelming need to move. Somehow I know that there is something behind me that I do not want to catch me. But I can’t see so I start to walk forward, slowly, feeling with both my hands and my feet to make sure I don’t hit anything. As I am moving along, I keep thinking, not fast enough, not fast enough, not fast enough and I start to move fast and faster until I am full out running, but the thing behind me stays the same distance away, no matter how fast I run. I start to slow down and when discovering that it slows down along with me, I go back to walking. No use wasting energy, right? Wrong! As soon as I have calmed down enough to wonder exactly what it is that is chasing me, voices start to fade in and out of my hearing. They whisper to me saying stuff like; you belong to the Master, the Master will hurt you, he is going to take you, etc. it’s unsettling, but bearable. But then they get a little louder. I feel cold whispers of air all over my body it feels like they are trying to grab me, but I still can’t see anything. They start to tell me exactly how the Master is going to hurt me and what he is going to do to me after he makes me his. I’d rather not go into detail about what, exactly, they say if you don’t mind. The voices get louder and louder, until they are all screaming at me or laughing hysterically and the soft touches I felt before become violent pushes and pulls on my clothing, making me stagger one way then another. Finally I can’t take it anymore and fall to my knees while covering my ears and screaming, trying to drown out the voices. Suddenly mine is the only voice that can be heard. Everything else is completely silent. I slowly stand up, looking all around even though I know I won’t see anything. Once I am fully upright, I feel cold hands wrap around my throat from behind. I freeze, and a tremor moves through my body. The thing I have been running from, the voice’s Master, has caught me. I start to shake remembering what the voices had said he would do to me. A deep, chilling voice whispers into my ear, “What do you see?” but I’m too scared to reply. Again, the voice asks, “What do you see?” I can only shake my head. There is a dark chuckle and I jump when I feel a mouth nibbling at my ear. “This is as it should be,” he continues to whisper, his warm breath tickling my cheek. “You are mine and can only see that which I wish you to. You shall live by my side in the darkness; no more shall your skin be marred by the light. But do not worry, my pet, soon you will be able to see through the night as I do. There is one thing, however that you will always be able to see, no matter how much you wish you didn’t.” he stops and waits for me to ask the obvious question, and, after I swallow three or four times, I’m able to force it out. “Wh-what?” He suddenly moves his hands to my shoulders and spins me around so that I am looking straight into his face, centimeters away from my own. I can feel my eyes widen as I take in his pale skin, his dark hair that somehow stands out from the emptiness behind him, and his cruel smile, but the thing that captivates me is his eyes. They look like red hot coals, glowing as he devours me with his gaze. “Me,” his voice rolls over me like a wave in the ocean, both chilling and exhilarating at the same time. I am so lost in his gaze, that I barely notice when he pulls me tightly against his firm body. I can feel his hard muscles pressing against me, and his hands move to one on the small of my back and one in my hair. His touch is soft now, almost a caress as he stares into my eyes. He tilts my head up towards his before he slowly bends down and kisses me full on the lips. My eyes first widen in shock before they slowly flutter closed. And that’s when I sit straight up in bed, gasping for breath. After I am able to think clearly, I sigh in relief that it was all just a dream, but, somehow, I can still feel warmth from where he was holding me. My lips feel numb and I can still feel his breath on my cheek. For all the rest of that night, and sometimes the next, I can’t sleep (which really sucks because I usually have the dream several nights in a row).
RECENTLY: (look at my other post labeled My Dream)
NOW: My dream has changed a lot in the past few weeks. Not only is he visiting me almost every night, but I usually don’t wake up from it because the entire chase through the darkness usually doesn’t happen. Only every once in a while will that be repeated. I can also see a lot of my surroundings during my new dream. Now what happens varies from dream to dream and because of this I have gotten to know a little about him. He’s… well, he almost becomes two different people. Some of the time he is the way he was in my first dreams, teasing, manipulative, and forceful. But he is like that less and less. Most of the time anymore, he is gentle, kind and, at times, he seems so sad and lonely that I can’t help but try to comfort him..
When he is ‘good’ I dream that I am still in bed, but he is holding me from behind. The first time this happened, it really scared me considering it was also the first time I saw this side of him. I froze, and he instantly let go and moved away from me. Still surprised and scared, the moment he let me go, I tried to bolt from the bed. Unfortunately I got tangled in the sheets and fell off the edge with a startled squeak. I heard a soft chuckle that was so different from the ‘bad’ side’s cruel laugh that I looked up to make sure that it was really him. Everything looked exactly the same about him, everything except for his smile and his eyes. Somehow they were softer, warmer and he looked like someone that I could easily get along with. I tried to free myself from the blankets, but I was having a hard time. I jumped and squeaked again when his long, thin hand started to help. I held as still as possible, and chanced a look at his face. His half smile was gone, replaced by a deep frown; he was looking down at what his hands were doing deliberately avoiding my eyes so not to scare me any more than I already was. His forehead was creased and he looked… well, he looked as if he hated that I was so afraid of him, but knew there was nothing he could do to change it and it was breaking his heart. He was soo sad, I couldn’t help myself. My hand reached up on its own accord and cupped his cheek. His face jerked up to look at my face, our eyes locked and someone threw away the key. Slowly, almost without meaning to, I leaned up towards him while he bent down to me, our eyes never breaking the connection that had formed. Forgetting about freeing me, his hand moved to the back of my neck, propping my head up while entwining his fingers in my hair. Our kiss was what finally broke the eye contact. We didn’t break apart until we were both panting and then we just stared at each other again. Finally he smiled and picked me up, placing me gently on the bed before he finished unwrapping the blankets from my body. We just cuddled the rest of that night. It was….nice. Whenever the ‘nice’ side visits me the dream always starts with him holding me while we are in my bed. Sometimes we talk (rarely, he’s actually kind of shy), sometimes I read out loud to him (he really likes this, though he can read for himself just fine *I know this because he corrected my pronunciation once, when I looked at him in surprise he grinned and said “I can read, I just like the sound of your voice.”*), every once in a while we will watch a movie, we do other various things (on night we actually looked up random YouTube videos and laughed our heads off at the good ones), but usually we just sit there in companionable silence. The nights after the ‘bad’ side loses his temper and beats me, however, the ‘good’ side doesn’t come. I still ‘wake up’ in my bed, but he isn’t there. It’s almost worse than the actual beatings. He will remain away for a few nights (two or three at the most), but eventually he will return. I open my eyes to see him sitting in corner of the room, as far away from me as possible. He always has his legs pulled up to his chest, with his arms holding them close, and his face buried against his knees. He shakes as he silently cries into his legs; I can almost feel the self loathing rolling off of him. For some reason, he will never tell me why, his whole body will be covered in cuts and bruises *I think he hurts himself because he wasn’t able to keep the ‘bad’ side from hurting me*. I have learned to just walk up to him and put my arms around his trembling form. He stiffens at first, but eventually he will loosen enough to open his arms and legs and pull me tight against his chest. I hate to say it, but I actually love when he holds me like that. I’m surrounded by his warmth, his legs by my sides and his arms encircling me, holding me tightly to his hard chest. He buries his face into my neck, and continues to cry while brokenly whispering “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” I try to sooth him by telling him it’s not his fault but he insists that it is and so this doesn’t do much, I have discovered that he really likes lullabies, especially the river lullaby from Prince of Egypt so I sing it while petting his hair and that really helps him out.
Now, on to the ‘bad’ side. To put it simply, I am his slave. I am to do as he says or I will be punished. It’s not all that bad, really. I’ve learned quickly to obey, and so he doesn’t have very many reasons to beat me anymore. That makes the ‘good’ side happy, but I can tell that it still haunts him. What is interesting is that my wounds usually only take a day to heal, unless they are really bad. For example, a gay friend of mine kissed me goodnight on the cheek in front of my family, the jerk (my family doesn’t know he’s gay and so he’s had quite a laugh about how they all now think that we are going to get married). Let’s just say that, the ‘bad’ side was livid. We went through our usually routine at first (I wake up chained *by a collar around my neck* to a huge throne *where he is sitting* with shackles on both my hands and legs. He says, “Good, evening, slave.” And I reply “good evening, Master.” Then takes all but the collar off and gives me my orders). After we exchanged our usual greetings, he removed the leash, but left the shackles on. I’ve learned quickly that different is never a good thing when it comes to the ‘bad’ side, and so I was half expecting the first blow. What I didn’t expect, however, was the barrage of blows that followed it. He usually will hit me then make me stand before he knocks me down again. But he wasn’t giving me any time to recover between his kicks and punches. Finally, he grabbed me by the hair and pulled me up until I was kneeling in front of him. He bent down and screamed, “YOU LITTLE SLUT! HOW DARE YOU KISS ANOTHER? YOU,” slap, “BELONG,” kick, “TO,” grabs my hair and pulls me up again, “ME!” And then he kissed me with such consuming possessiveness, it left me weaker than the beating had. When he finally pulled away, I was gasping in quick, harsh pants (I couldn’t breathe very deeply without pain since he had broken a few of my ribs). He then threw me back down onto the floor, and I hit my head hard enough that I blacked out and woke up in the real world. It was kind of weird to go from such excruciating pain to none at all. I really didn’t want to go back to sleep because I knew that pain would be back, but my body had different plans. I opened my eyes, and I was back in the throne room, lying in a pool of my own blood where he had left me, but it wasn’t the ‘bad’ side that awaited me. He was kneeling before me, his hand on my head, and I couldn’t hold back the tremor of fear that ran through my body. Upon feeling the tremor, he gently pulled me into his arms and cradled me against his chest. Shocked, I looked up at his face and saw that it was actually the ‘good’ side that was holding me. I was in shock to say the least, not only was this the first time that he had ever came to me directly after a beating, but this was also the first time I had seen him outside of my room. In his eyes was unspeakable grief and pain as they pooled with unshed tears. “Let's get out of this dark place,” he whispered, and he lifted me as gently as possible into his arms as he stood. Even so, I still gasped as pain shot through my body from the movements. He winced slightly, but otherwise showed no outward sign that he had heard me. He simply took one step forward and we were in my room. He gently laid me down on my bed before he started to assess the damage done. I had three broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder; my right leg had a fracture, I had gotten a concussion from my head hitting the floor, and a crap load of bruises covered my entire body. He fixed me up the best he could and then just held me in his arms while I drifted in and out of consciousness. I know he was crying because I remember feeling a tear hit my cheek while it rested under his chin. It took me three day to completely heal, but it was worse for the ‘good’ side than it was for me. I am now starting to believe that the ‘bad’ side hurts me deliberately in order to hurt the ‘good’ side. The ‘good’ side is defiantly aware of what happens whenever the ‘bad’ side is in control, but the same can’t be said for the other way around, the ‘bad’ side knows very little about what the ‘good’ side and I do when we are together. Actually, the ‘bad’ side seems to be jelous of the ‘good’ side’s relationship to me, which makes the ‘bad’ side even more violent. I never leave a night with him unmarked in some way, shape, or form. The ‘good’ side will always find my new bruises, no matter how hard I try to hide them. He will gently run his fingers over the area, and his eyes will be so sad, it makes me want to cry. I actually did cry once, and it really startled him. He cradled my face in his hands and asked me what was wrong. I was too choked up to do anything, but put my hand on his cheek and whisper, “please don’t be sad, please.” His eyes widened and then he blinked back tears before he tried a pathetic half smile that was so reduculous, that I started to giggle, the laugh out loud. He joined in, but I think his laugh was more out of relief that I wasn’t crying anymore than anything else.

NAME: ? He’s never said
Age: appears 19/20
Physical: He actually kind of looks like a much paler Mori-senpai (pic below) off of Ouran High School Host Club (I just barely discovered that anime and I LOVE IT!) any-who he is: tall, 6’ 4”-6’ 6” ish; his shoulders are about medium width and he is well toned but not bulky (he is very, very, very strong); his eyes are red but they change color with his mood (as I have recently discovered), when he is happy/excited they are bright red and almost glow, when he is angry they are cold and almost black, like pools of dried blood, and finally when he is sad his eyes are filled with centuries of pain and loneliness, and when he holds me and strokes my hair, his eyes are warm kind of dark red and they’re kind and gentle; his hair is the color of the ocean one a moonless night, but the style/length changes from uber long (like to his ankles) and in a braid to medium long sometimes loose, sometimes in a small pony tail at the nape of his neck with a chin length chunks that frame his face (this is my personal fav.) to medium short and spiky, and everything in between; he had long hands with thin, but strong, fingers that are almost always cold though the rest of him is warm; his face… well the only way to describe his face is elegantly handsome but he is very a pale, almost ivory.
Personality: obsessed with me, who knows why; protective/possessive; overall he is rather unstable, he is capable of great kindness and is, at times, very warm and caring, but he can lose his temper very easily and he is very, very dangerous when this happens but he always is consumed with guilt and self-loathing whenever he hurts me, he won’t show himself to me for a while afterwards; it’s almost as if there are two people inside of him, one cold, cruel, manipulative and evil, the other sad, kind, and sweet; he seems to have some deep emotional problems and I’m starting to get a feeling that his past may have a huge role to play in it.
Overall opinion of him: I really don’t know. I feel bad for him, but he scares me and he knows it. On one side he likes that I’m afraid, but on the other he hates it. I like it when we are lying on my bed and he is just holding me, he seems like he is so happy and I feel almost safe and secure in his arms.