Was he perhaps leaning on that mist a little too much? Perhaps. But, there were no more nightmares from here on out. He could visualize, with perfect clarity, where he wanted his life to go. All there was left was manifesting it.
He "awoke" to his apartment, again. The scents of the previous night lingered, a mix of filter cigarettes and some herbal, fruity perfume. Some tincture of orange zest, allspice, and lavender. His typical all-black denim outfit was on, horseshoes on every pocket. And there wasn't just a knock at the door, there was a loud, urgent knock. Back of the hand to the hardwood. He laid on the couch, seeing some dragon in the distance through the glass door to the balcony.
He blinked, rubbing his eyes. There was that incessant knocking again.
Yujin Ha let herself in, nearly bowling him over. He had the vague impression that she was building a profile of him while they talked the past few times, and this is where his subconscious wandered.
"Are you free? Do you mind if I let myself in?"
Dylan blinked, his usual morning murmur coming through. "Make yourself at home." He said, barely above a whisper. She walked past him, subtly leading him around the house like some kind of sheepdog. "...Why don't you give me a tour."
His kitchen was immaculate. Perfectly polished marble surfaces, with a spotless sink and several sharpened knives by a whetstone. One even looked to be his personal switchblade. "...That's supposed to be there." He looked up at her with a smile. "You're like a lot of boys; your home is messy, but you know where everything is."
Then came his bedroom. That dragon again came by the window. A smile crept across his pace. Dylan lost all patience, throwing open the drawers below his computer desk. Below his laptop and drum machine, and monitor speakers. Several bottles of promethazine and powders sat there, wrapped in foil. His walls were adorned with pictures and posters of acts he'd worked with. Everyone from the Teravolt roster, and even one of that pop-punk outfit he'd been cajoled into joining.
"Like what you see? I have one last thing I'd like to show you."
He was at this point far past "off his rocker". His floor had less a pile of energy drinks as they were immaculate stacks. His bedsheets had Gengars lining it, and a Grimer pillowcase. His closet held all of his platform boots and outfits. Every color of the rainbow of horseshoe-marked denim, and streetwear. $400 belts hung off every jacket like a necktie. A hockey mask sat there at the head of a nightstand, whose drawer held an assortment of knives and box-cutters.
She stopped, raising a brow. "You said that you had to fight sometimes. But, I think I've seen enough. You can play innocent, play dumb all you want."
And he snickered. Every dream of his thus far couldn't simply be a perfect day for him. Some subconscious fear manifested. Some note of doubt in the midst of his fantasy. And here it was, someone coming to the correct conclusion that he was a bad person, in some regard. As he ran out to the balcony, that dragon drew closer, falling to a hover over the railing. Yujin gave chase, watching with bated breath. Dylan once again started with that maniacal laughter. He started to shout, his voice cracking. He started to cry.
"No more pleasure! No more pain! No more anxious thoughts! No more uphill battles, just to see people I love have their little moments wrenched away from them the second I turn my back! No more waiting for the other shoe to drop, the second I know joy! Take me away!"
And then, Giratina "ate" him, putting him in that Distorted World. Hills where nothing ever grows, water is still no matter how you try to disturb it. Finally, an eternal peace and quiet was found, without having to put him in the ground first. His innocent, peaceful smile would never fade. He truly got everything he wanted this time.
GOOD ENDING.
SLEEP POINTS: 999 (420 WORDS)