![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
The end will wait for another night [Hannu Viitanen]
Title: The end will wait for another night
Fandom: A Redtail's Dream
Characters: Hannu, no pairing
Rating: 0+ (ish. I guess.)
Length: ~420
Summary: He dreams of death, but he isn't dead yet.
Other: Bit of a canon rehash, but whatever whatever, I do what I want. Prompt was "Nightmares about the dreamworld". [Original post]
The end will wait for another night
He was dangling in the air. All the blood was rushing to his head, pounding in his ears, and he wondered what the hell he was even doing this for.
The ground beneath him was so far away.
There were black shapes down there. Dark shapes. Beady eyes and sharp beaks, staring up at him, waiting.
I'm going to die, Hannu thought. I'm going to die, and that's going to be the end of it.
He fell.
Cold water in his mouth. In his nose. Plunging icy wetness that made his eyes fly open.
He stared into the darkness.
Shaft of light above him, and that dark shape grabbing. Pressing. Trapping.
He squirmed. Gasped, and when he tried to breathe in, there was water. Water and that dark shape and the sharpness of the ice above him. He pressed a palm against it, tried to scrabble toward the hole, but he couldn't.
I'm going to die, Hannu thought.
The empty eyes stared at him, and then all he could see was darkness.
The swan was not a swan. Or it was something that was once a swan. It didn't matter.
Blood everywhere. On the banks, in the water, in the air. The scent of it made him gag. He tried to breathe and found he couldn't.
The knife trembled in his hands.
It was coming at him. He couldn't run. He stayed, feet planted as firmly as they could be, and he stared into the empty eyes of the thing that only a moment ago had been a bird, but was now death itself.
I'm going to die, Hannu thought.
And then the beak which was a knife which was bone which was blood sank into him.
Daylight.
Hannu jerked awake. Blinked. Breathed. Squinted.
There were bright lights in his eyes.
He blinked again, and took a deep breath. Then another one. And then another one for good measure.
It was fine.
It was just a dream.
It was fine.
He was in his room.
It was fine.
The sunlight filtering in through the open blinds was what had made him wake.
Just in time, Hannu told himself. And then he felt like slapping himself. But he didn't.
He breathed, and listened to the sounds. Ville sleeping beside him, muttering something about five more minutes. Birdsong outside. The clock ticking on the wall. A car passing on the street outside.
I'm alive, Hannu thought.
Good enough.
He watched the sunlight on the wall, and didn't go back to sleep.
Fandom: A Redtail's Dream
Characters: Hannu, no pairing
Rating: 0+ (ish. I guess.)
Length: ~420
Summary: He dreams of death, but he isn't dead yet.
Other: Bit of a canon rehash, but whatever whatever, I do what I want. Prompt was "Nightmares about the dreamworld". [Original post]
The end will wait for another night
He was dangling in the air. All the blood was rushing to his head, pounding in his ears, and he wondered what the hell he was even doing this for.
The ground beneath him was so far away.
There were black shapes down there. Dark shapes. Beady eyes and sharp beaks, staring up at him, waiting.
I'm going to die, Hannu thought. I'm going to die, and that's going to be the end of it.
He fell.
Cold water in his mouth. In his nose. Plunging icy wetness that made his eyes fly open.
He stared into the darkness.
Shaft of light above him, and that dark shape grabbing. Pressing. Trapping.
He squirmed. Gasped, and when he tried to breathe in, there was water. Water and that dark shape and the sharpness of the ice above him. He pressed a palm against it, tried to scrabble toward the hole, but he couldn't.
I'm going to die, Hannu thought.
The empty eyes stared at him, and then all he could see was darkness.
The swan was not a swan. Or it was something that was once a swan. It didn't matter.
Blood everywhere. On the banks, in the water, in the air. The scent of it made him gag. He tried to breathe and found he couldn't.
The knife trembled in his hands.
It was coming at him. He couldn't run. He stayed, feet planted as firmly as they could be, and he stared into the empty eyes of the thing that only a moment ago had been a bird, but was now death itself.
I'm going to die, Hannu thought.
And then the beak which was a knife which was bone which was blood sank into him.
Daylight.
Hannu jerked awake. Blinked. Breathed. Squinted.
There were bright lights in his eyes.
He blinked again, and took a deep breath. Then another one. And then another one for good measure.
It was fine.
It was just a dream.
It was fine.
He was in his room.
It was fine.
The sunlight filtering in through the open blinds was what had made him wake.
Just in time, Hannu told himself. And then he felt like slapping himself. But he didn't.
He breathed, and listened to the sounds. Ville sleeping beside him, muttering something about five more minutes. Birdsong outside. The clock ticking on the wall. A car passing on the street outside.
I'm alive, Hannu thought.
Good enough.
He watched the sunlight on the wall, and didn't go back to sleep.