Mahou Shoujo: Nightmares

A series of vivid nightmares triggered by wearing the odd ballet outfit when going to sleep. They briefly wake you up at 2 am and significantly decrease your stamina and HP recovery for that night. Maybe you could even lose some fatigue.

Don't know if they should be in order or just randomly chosen. Not sure about the frequency either, or if they should be repeatable or not.



> Dream 1

The altar before you is all you can see; it is all the faint candlelight manages to illuminate in this moonless, rainy night. You clutch the pendant in your hands tight. It is everything you have left. That, and your trusty halberd. The weapon's scratched blade glints in the pale light beside you.

The color of this world is gone. Ever since you did what you had to, all vibrancy has vanished. It has only been a few days, but here in this purgatory, it has felt like years. Years in solitude and endless battle. Your body is exhausted, your mind close to breaking. You will not be able to hold out much longer.

You thought you could be the village's saviour, everyone's shining hero, but all you did was doom them all.

It all went so well at first, you made everyone happy. You finally saw your mother's smile again, your father stopped his drinking, and even your sister's condition seemed to improve. So what happened, where did it all go so wrong? Where did this all come from? You gave up everything for their sake, you took up arms so they wouldn't have to, you went and fought in countless battles so they could sleep peacefully at night. So why? Why would you be denied your reward? Why would all you have built crumble to dust before your eyes? Why were you powerless to stop it?

Why must their faces haunt you so?

You pound the cold stone floor with a bruised fist. Your vision blurs. You had asked these questions countless times, but no answer ever came. Nor would one tonight. You hold the pendant before your eyes. Has <i>she</i> abandoned you, too? Are you truly alone now in this wretched world? Your hands are shaking and you choke back tears. You're afraid. You don't want to die. But this is the end, isn't it? No help is coming. No-one will save you from this nightmare.

The mighty church doors tremble in their hinges.

There is no escape.

You clench your fist and tilt your head towards the ceiling. Should you be angry? Angry for being forsaken? Angry at your own failure? Should you be sad? Sad that you will die alone? Sad that you led them all to their deaths? You don't know. Your heart is pounding in your chest, your consciousness dangerously fading in and out. You wish the rain could wash away your fear as it washed away the blood from your hands. Maybe you deserve this. Maybe this is punishment for your hubris. You thought you could stand on top of the world, thought you could fix everyone's woes—keep everyone safe. Now you know how mistaken you were. You know you stand no chance against what lurks outside. The creature that now hammers against the oaken portal, its shadows creeping in through the broken stained-glass windows, slowly encircling you. You can't see them, but you feel it. The monster that suddenly appeared on that fateful day.

You grip your halberd tight and stand up on shaky legs. But even if you've lost everything, you will <i>not</i> be defeated.

The shadows encroach all around you as you stand in the middle of your father's old church, all alone, dried tears on your cheeks. You take a deep breath. Wood cracks and the doors are flung open, giving entry to the monstrosity and snuffing the last few candles. Everything is cast in darkness. But you need no light for what you are about to do.

With a kiss, you place the pendant on the ground before you, where it shimmers in a faint glow. Then raise your halberd high.

If only your mother's last face could have been a happy one.

The roiling shadow lunges towards you, maw wide and claws outstretched, and with all your might, you bring your weapon down.

The last thing you see is a blinding light before your world shatters.



> Dream 2

You stare at her lifeless body. It doesn't feel real. None of this does. She was alive. Just... Just moments ago. And now—

"<i>So this is our final fate. What awaits us all.</i>" Your friend's voice sounds hollow, distant. You look up at her. Her usually gentle and collected face is empty, her silver eyes blankly staring at the corpse at your knees.

This was never supposed to be. This was just supposed to be a routine patrol through the woods. You had been laughing and making jokes. You had brought cookies and shared them. Made them yourself. They came out too dry, but she still wolfed them down and told you they were delicious, a bright smile on her lovely face. Even the refined rich girl, no doubt used to much better confections, asked you for seconds. The three of you against the darkness. A trio of unlikely friends, but here you were, bonded by your shared duty. It had seemed so perfect, all was going so well.

You had let your guard down.

They were everywhere. Where did they suddenly come from? Shadows all around you, glints of claws and fangs in the evening twilight, poised to strike. The muskets roared first, tearing into your ambushers, and steel clashed with claws. Your bow slew them in droves, magic arrows felling foe after foe. They stood no chance against your combined might. This was what you were chosen to do, what your powers were meant for. But something was off. There was no end to them, and something at the back of your mind—a tiny, concerned voice—was trying to make itself be heard. A sense of unease clawed itself to the surface, and your shots faltered.

And then, <i>it</i> appeared.

A roiling mass of darkness, pitch-black against the setting sun. Nearly as large as the trees around it, swathes of mist obscuring much of its massive form. The air seemed to freeze as it blotted out the light. A creature right out of a nightmare. You had been fighting off fiends for over half a year now, but never before had you seen a monster like this. Your blood ran cold in your veins.

But she charged it head-on, fearless as ever. You screamed at her to wait, but she was already mid-leap, twin blades raised high. '<i>With a single strike to victory!</i>'

You will never forget how she was swatted out of the air like a pesky fly. How it grabbed her tiny body and lifted her up. The desperate howl of the guns besides you. Her screams as its claws tore into her gut. Your own inability to do anything but watch as the nightmare sucked the blood and life out of your best friend, shrieking and struggling in anguish, until it left her an empty, shrivelled husk. Its horrifying, featureless face, its maw stretched wide in a mocking sneer. Her body dropping to the ground, limbs splayed in impossible ways. The sound of your heart thundering in your chest as the monster turned to you.

Bile rises up in your gullet. You hack and cough, but nothing comes out. Your stomach couldn't give any more, even if it wanted to.

You've had enough. You don't want to do anything any more. You can't. It's impossible. You never wanted this. This is not how you thought it would end. That monster is still out there. It simply disappeared after murdering her, vanished into the night with its rumbling laughter. How are you even supposed to fight that thing? How are you supposed to fight at all? You can't do this. You're not nearly strong enough. Not like her. You're pathetic, helpless, weak. You always knew that. The only reason you kept fighting was because she was there besides you. And now, without her... without her at your side...

"<i>We have no choice but to die, don't we?</i>" Hearing her speak your thoughts out loud makes you choke up, your bitter response lost in your throat.

You don't want to die. Not like this. Not like her.

But you're doomed. It's all over. She may be an experienced fighter, but there is nothing either of you can do against that monster; even her guns seemed like mere children's toys in its presence. You are just two stupid little girls who played hero for too long. And now you pay the price for your foolishness. You wish this was all just a terrible nightmare. You wish she was still alive.

Tears stream unhindered down your face. None had come when you pulled her body out of the bushes and carried her here. None had come when you had said your prayers. None had come when you had closed her terrified eyes. But now they seem unending. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone for good, dead, murdered! And you will soon be, too. You choke and sob as your tears drip onto her cold body, soaking her chest. A gentle hand rests on your shoulder, trying to console the inconsolable, despite her own trembling.

"<i>Hey...</i>" Her shaky voice is barely above a whisper. "<i>Can you forgive me?</i>"

Through watery eyes, you look up at your friend again, and stare down a musket's barrel.

"<i>I'm sorry.</i>"

Your world cuts to black.


> Dream 3

The crows circle overhead where you sit, amongst the ashen ruins of the town you once called home. A biting-cold wind tugs at your bloodied clothes and you shudder.

There's nothing left to do now. But you had a good run, didn't you? Showed those bastards a good fight. Caught you off-guard, they did. Didn't think they'd come this far north so late in the year. The mountains become treacherous after the first snowfall. But it didn't matter, your axe is always sharp. The ones who remained behind with you to fight are dead, but their glory will be remembered by those they bought a life for. Glory. Yes, glory... You cough. Fresh blood stains your hand.

"<i>Ahh, fuck.</i>"

You won't be seeing their faces again, will you? A shame, but you have no regrets. The day you took the chance, the chance to become a warrior without equal, blessed by that goddess, you knew you would die on the battlefield. A 'champion of justice', she would call you. Heh, <i>justice</i>. You never cared about that trash. All you wanted was kill as many fiends and demons as you could. All you wanted was revenge. And you got that tenfold. A smile crosses your chapped lips.

Where is that little goddess now, anyway? You've never been one for praying much, but she's been awfully quiet lately. Ah, whatever, you've got other things to worry about.

Like the fiend you hear stalking through the ruins. A straggler? Or did you miss one? Your muscles ache, your bones protest, but you grip your mighty axe and force yourself to stand. Dragging the weapon through the half-frozen mud, you step outside the broken-down shelter to face the intruder.

It first looks like a bear, rummaging through a fallen watchtower. But it's larger than any you've ever seen before. A massive creature, black as the midnight sky, a strange, roiling mist emanating from its form. A demon, no doubt. You grip your axe tight. It has noticed you, and its head swivels towards you. You recoil, before catching yourself. Where its face should be, only a gaping maw stares back at you.

"<i>Well, aren't you an ugly little shit.</i>" Tough words to mask your nervousness. You've faced countless abominations before, but something about this monster unsettles you deeply. Not its looks, but the way it carries itself, the way it mirrors your circling steps, staring at you through absent eyes.

A slight shift, almost imperceptible, then it lunges forwards. Prepared, you duck to the side and swing your axe upwards into its belly, but hit nothing but air. You twirl the mighty weapon around and sideways, blocking its next strike just in time. The impact has you nearly releasing your grip, rattling your bones to jelly. You retreat backwards as it lunges again, nearly missing your throat. Another step back to get out of harm's way. The assault is relentless, forcing you back step after step through the smouldering ashes. An opening, an opening, there has to be one!

Claws graze your arm, neither of you expected that to hit, the creature is off-balance. You ignore the pain and swing your axe around. The thick blade sinks through flesh and tendons, deep into the monster's side. Its bellow nearly ruptures your eardrums, the acrid stench of its thick blood heavy in the air. It reels, tearing free from your blade and crashes backwards into the rubble. Fresh, powdery snow and ashes are whirled up by the massive form collapsing onto the ground, startling the crows in the treetops.

This is your chance. You can't wait for the vision to clear and rush in, clenching your axe tight. You make out the creature's form, writhing in pain amongst the wreckage, and heft your weapon up high.

The monster turns and tenses. Faster than you thought. Shit.

You twist your body to the side as your axe slices deep into the creature's shoulder, just missing its neck. You try to force the blade deeper, but a sudden, numb pain spreads through your gut and you wrestle with the urge to vomit. Your feet leave the ground and a sense of vertigo sets in as the monster lifts your up and slams you into smouldering rubble. Its fangs shoot towards you and you ram the shaft of your axe into its maw. With all your might, you kick the creature's head, but it ignores your attempts just like its gaping wounds and shatters the wood with a single bite. Shit. You're out of options. The remaining blade has skittered out of your reach and you're pinned beneath the colossal beast. Its massive paw bears down onto your shoulder, crushing it to dust. You could swear it's sneering at you as you cry in pain. Its head slowly lowers down towards you, as if savouring every moment of your agony.

"<i>Fuck you!</i>" is the last thing you shout before its maw closes around your head and your world is crushed between its mighty jaws.



> Dream 4

The world around you is a blur as you race past, screaming winds tear at your body and the sense of vertigo threatens to overwhelm your mind.

You are falling.

There is little to see beyond the reach of your hands: only the clouds overhead and the imposing shape of the dark tower against the midnight sky. A lone figure watches you from up top, its piercing gaze following you as you fall from your high throne towards your grave.

You should have known. You think you <i>did</i> know, but chose to ignore it. Chose to delude yourself. You never stood a chance. You should have called for help, rallied the others and taken it on together. You would have defeated it, banished it back to whence it came, it could have been so simple. But pride is as much a virtue as it is a sin. It spurs you on, drives you to excel and resist the temptation of sloth. But it also blinds you. To the possibility that there is always someone stronger than you. To the fact that sometimes, you can't do things on your own. A powerful and dangerous drug, you realize that now. Though it is far too late for such epiphanies.

The rain seems to rise up from below as you speed through the thicket of lazy droplets. There is nothing you can do, your magic—as formidable as it is—won't save you from this. Nor will <i>she</i>, nor anyone else. You are alone.

You try to turn and look for your weapon. The mighty sword has always been by your side, ever since you took the contract and joined this circle of guardians. Strong, powerful and unyielding—just like you—it has done you and the goddess a great service. How many fiends have you slain? How many skulls have you cleaved? On how many nights have you leaned on it for support as you dragged yourself back home? You have long lost count. It was your partner, your reliable ally, the only one you could truly depend on. But now, the blade is nowhere to be seen, swallowed up by the raging storm and darkness around you. This is the first time you have ever been separated. And as it seems, it will also be the last.

You had always imagined you would die on the battlefield, at the hands or claws of a terrible foe, fighting to save the world and taking the beast that slew you with you to the underworld. A glorious death, befit of a true leader. But <i>this</i> only is a fool's demise, there is no glory in it.

With your fall here, the others will be doomed as well. Now, there stands nothing between them and the beast. And they do not know what is coming, they know nothing of this nightmare, know nothing of its terrible power, and when they finally learn of it, you won't be there to lead the charge. They will be helpless. They will be slaughtered. This is your fault. This is all your fault. This is <i>all</i> your fault.

You may have been the strongest, the mightiest. But in the end, you failed. You failed them all.

You curse only yourself as the ground closes in and your world burst amidst the splashing raindrops.



> Dream 5

Sabre-long fangs burrow deep into the dirt where you were just a heartbeat ago. The beast loses little time and tears free of the ground, rearing its massive body back and spraying you with loose mud and pebbles, ready to strike again. You roll to your feet and meet its ravenous glare.

Your left leg is numb, your robes soaked with icy water and blood, and the thin-bladed glaive in your hands feels like it has the weight of the world pressing down on it. But you cannot falter. Not here, not now.

Claws slice past your face as you dart to the side and sink your blade between the monster's now-exposed shoulder joint. The pained bellow shakes your entire body and the riverbed at your feet, and you nearly lose your grip as it jerks back, taking the lodged glaive with it. You put all your weight against it and twist hard, barely managing to slide it free, and quickly plunge it into the shallow water to wash off the beast's corrosive blood.

With your back to the deeper, tumultuous parts of the river and the nearby waterfall, you stare down the wounded, colossal fiend. Limping now, the demonic cross-breed between a hound and a lion half-circles you warily, keeping well clear of the bladed tip without allowing you room to escape. You can see the intelligence in its focused eyes. This is no mere mindless demon, but a cunning, quick-witted predator. Only, you are no prey.

Your long glaive's reach is similar to its own forelimbs, and it knows. Again and again, it ducks in for a swipe, testing your reaction, only to be driven back by the gleaming blade. But it makes no moves to attack in earnest. It's playing the waiting game, and the blood running down your trembling leg tells you that you can't win that one. You need to act now.

One, two, three steps to the right. Lower your weapon slightly, pretend to open your guard, then one forward.

The strike came quicker than you thought, its claws grazing your skirt and catching your hip painfully. No matter, focus! You stab into the paw right next to you, ignoring the beast's roar, and lift yourself up onto its massive foreleg. Balancing precariously as it lifts you up in blind fury, you grip your weapon like a harpoon and take aim. You tense up, then take the leap.

The blade impales the monstrosity's eye, burying deep into the socket. You hear the wet squelch of muscle and flesh being severed and the mighty beast's roar of agony strains your eardrums to their limit. You swing around with a dancer's grace, plant yourself on its face, and drive in deeper. Suddenly, your feet lose purchase as it thrashes around and your glaive threatens to tear itself free again as you cling on tight to it.

Suspended in mid-air, you have no way to dodging the massive paw that slams into your body, knocking the wind out of your lungs and sending you crashing into the river. Dislodged glaive in hand and dazed from the impact, you try to fight the merciless current tugging at your robes, dragging you closer and closer to the thundering waterfall. You ram the weapon's shaft into the ground to fight the pull, but cry out as a piercing pain shoots up your arm and you falter.

Then, you are falling.

Foamy water to all sides, the wind rushing past in a deafening cacophony, a strangely serene feeling of weightlessness. Then, muffled silence as you plunge into the turbulent basin.

The flood bears down on you, beckons you deeper like the hand of the grim reaper. You fight, you struggle, push back the urge to breathe, and finally, you are swept into a calmer current. Breaching the surface, you take a desperate gasp for air. Your lungs burn, you are hacking and coughing, and pull yourself onto a larger rock amidst the river.

Your hand still grips the glaive. You look up to the top of the thunderous fall, expecting to see the beast staring down at you. But there is nothing, only the white foam against the starry sky. Steel clatters against stone and you hack out the last bits of water from your system before flopping down onto the smooth rock.

You know you won't get up any time soon if you don't keep moving now, but your battered body refuses you service, every bone and muscle feeling like it has been ground in a giant mortar.

You eventually give up, roll onto your side and close your eyes.

Your mind wanders back to your partner for this night's patrol. The beast had surprised you both and torn into her before she could even draw her sword. The look of puzzled shock on her face was one you know will be etched into your mind for the rest of your life. If only you had been faster, if only you had been more vigilant, then maybe you could have saved her. But her death had bought you time, precious time you needed not to end up just like her. You grit your teeth at that morbid thought. You will have to make up for it. At the very least, she deserves a funeral, with proper honors. You will retrieve her body later, after you've recovered enough and dealt with this monstrosity. Only, how are you going to you do that? You had only now just survived by sheer luck; you can't count on that a second time.

For every opening you took, you paid with a wound of your own, every time you thought you had outwitted the beast, it rebound and continued its assault. And now, even your most desperate attempt yet had failed. Well, maybe you did more damage than it seemed. Maybe your blade had reached its brain, or maybe it bled out by now. You will only find out when you climb up there again. <i>When</i>. You're in no condition for that now. You need rest.

Suddenly, something at the back of your mind jolts you awake, compels you to look up. Turning your tired neck, you do. A large shadow blots out the starlit sky, and you realize almost too late what it is.

You hear the rock behind you crumbling to dust as you desperately dive out of the way of the massive creature crashing down on your resting place. Stone splinters tear through cloth and skin before the icy river shelters you from the rain of shrapnel. You surface and try to stand in the relative shallows, glaive in hand, but are swatted by a man-sized paw slamming into you and hurling you back into the water.

The monster's tremendous weight pins you down, its cold, wrathful eye gleefully watching you thrash in panic. From the other socket, thick, black ichor flows down its mutilated face and meets the water with sizzling splashes.

You writhe and flail, fighting for air, but nothing budges, you are trapped. Raising your glaive, you stab wildly where you make out the monster's form above the water's surface. You feel it connect, sink into soft flesh. But if it even registers the wounds in its rage, you do not know. Fear turns to terror as the beast doesn't relent, your mind roils with the desperate need for oxygen.

You can't hold out any longer, the pressure becomes unbearable, and you open your mouth.

Glacial water rushes into your lungs, but it feels like fire, like someone had forced boiling tar down your throat. You would scream if you could. In your panic, you try to breathe in more and more, every gasp more agonizing than the last, muscles spasming, heart hammering in your chest. You can't. You can't do it. You can't free yourself from this. This will be your end.

The edge of your vision darkens, your body feels heavy, an unnatural tranquillity comforts your mind, and you finally find peace as your world fades to black.