A darkness clings onto the walls in Zack's room. The only visible light in the room is coming from his laptop. Cleaning took up a lot of time, and school isn't really lenient on homework, especially in the middle of the school year. The constant clacking on the keyboard gets on Zack's nerves, but he really needs to finish this essay. Stuck on a sentence--being unable to word it properly--he looks over the corner of his laptop and sees Trixie's urn. The eerie quiet makes Zack's skin prick.
He gets off his bed to fetch the urn. Can Trixie see what's going on while in there?
"Hello, Trixie?"
Nothing happens. Perhaps it's sound proof. There's nothing about the urn that proves it's sound proof. For all he knows, Trixie might just be ignoring him. Zack really doesn't want to be alone, but his "friend" is scary, so he doesn't want to bother her.
With a sigh, he goes back to his bed with the urn in hand. The computer screen stares at him as he stares in return. The sentence he couldn't complete is still there, mocking him.
Zack looks down at the keyboard. "You know," he says to the urn, "I don't know why everyone I meet treats me the way they do. I'm a good kid. I don't lie. I don't steal. I try to help everyone, but they don't want my help. I don't get it. I just don't get it." His eyes become watery. "What did I do to deserve this? Why does everyone hate me? At school, everyone picks on me. They see me as weak and spineless... I... I want... I don't know what I want. I don't want to hurt anyone, but that's all that goes through my head. Thoughts of revenge, but...
"I don't know. I was raised better by my father. My mom was no help. I don't even think she likes me. She's hardly around and, when she is around, calls me a failure. Some mother that is. I didn't choose my parents, and I guess my parents didn't choose me."
The urn remains motionless. Zack feels silly talking to it, an inanimate object. But this is what Trixie needs, to express her inner turmoil so it doesn't build up inside and make her bitter, though she's probably there already. Zack closes the laptop. There's no way he can finish the essay before his weariness gets the better of him. It's already three in the morning. School starts in five hours and he can spend those five hours sleeping.
Blood rushes through his heart and mind. So much pain, but he continues. Zack is badly hurt, blood oozing out of the gaping hole in his arm where he got shot. A deep growl behind him sends shivers down his spine, but he stays steadfast. Zack jumps out of the way as a giant hammer comes crashing down overhead. "Come on," he yells. "You gotta do better than that!" He runs off.
On his shoulders, he is carrying a war-torn Trixie. "Hey, wake up." He shakes her awake.
Trixie groans in pain. "What? Where am I?"
"You got hurt by that demon. I barely got to you in time before it did anything worse. It did break you hind legs though."
Trixie glances behind her. A bloody, muscle-rippling, demonic beast with a hammer made of bone fused to its left arm is right behind them. Its rancid breath reeks of rotten meat and causes Trixie to gag. "Thanks for saving me," she says to Zack.
He winks at her. "Your my friend. I'm not going to abandon you that easily."
The demon's tongue shoots out from its maw. The slithering piece of muscle catches Zack by his feet and trips him. Blood flows from Zack's mouth from his new injury on his tongue. He spits out what he could but his mouth quickly refills with fresh blood. Trixie is writhing on the ground, her legs rebelling against her. Her pain is palpable; Zack cringes at her shrieks. "Don't worry. I won't let tha--"
The beast pulls in Zack with its tongue still wrapped around his legs. It flicks its tongue sending Zack flying through the air. He lands a few yards away behind the demon. It turns to Trixie, lifting its hammer to strike her. Like a blur, Zack rushes to her, covering her head with his arms. Her warmth seeps into his body, both their fates intertwined.
The hammer lands with a thunderous roar and darkness envelopes Zack.
BEEP BEEP BEEP
An alarm blares out waking Zack from his stupor. It was only a dream. As he lifts his blankets away, he spots blood on his hands. Was it a dream?