An eerie silence hung over Violet's empty room. Though her furniture was gone, she recognized the tear in the hideous floral wallpaper beside the door. She no longer had her lamp, but instead the dull moonlight seeping through the window.

Why was she here?

A small scratching noise on the other side of the door cut through the silence, causing her to jump. It sounded as though a small animal was trying to get in. Violet froze, her eyes widening in fear. The scratching was growing more desperate by the second. Whatever was wanted in badly.

With trembling legs, Violet inched toward the door. It felt as though her feet were trying to resist, making her steps agonizingly slow. Her chest was tight, her palms were drenched in sweat, and her mouth was dry. She had no idea who was standing outside of her room. It could be someone harmless, like Larry or Sal. Then again, it could also be...

She placed a sweaty hand on the doorknob, now fully aware of just how badly she was shaking. For a moment, she stayed there. The scratching had gone from desperate to aggressive as soon as she came into contact with the door. Whoever it was seemed to be dragging their nails from the top of the door all the way down to the carpet. The sound made her want to throw up.

Finally, Violet threw the door open. There it was.

The Red-Eyed Demon.

She tried to back away, but some invisible force held her in place, leaving her under the life-threatening stare of the entity. There was no more scratching. Everything was completely and utterly silent. Violet couldn't speak, she couldn't move, she couldn't even breathe. She just...stood there.

The demon took its usual stance. It did nothing but stare down at her with its blazing red eyes. Although, this time, there wasn't the deafening buzzing sound. Instead, every last bit of oxygen seemed to be sucked from the air.

At first, Violet felt her breaths growing heavier, a result of what she assumed was anxiety. But it only got worse from there. Her chest tightened painfully as her breathing turned into hyperventilating. The entity before her had long been forgotten, though its piercing gaze remained over her. It was almost as though it was mocking her just by standing there and watching her suffer.

It wasn't long before Violet's lungs felt as though they had been set ablaze. The pain was unbearable. She felt like someone had stabbed her in the chest, twisting the blade until her lungs could no longer function. At this point, Violet was sure that this was how she'd die. And the only one by her side was the one killing her.

Her vision went black.

> > >

Violet sat bolt upright, sucking in a great breath of air. Her chest may have ached, but the pain was very tolerable in comparison to what she had just experienced.

"Just a dream..." she whispered to herself. "It was just a dream."

She looked around, wiping beads of sweat from her forehead. The second her eyes landed on an Edward Shovelhands poster, she realized that she was still in Sal's room. His green comforter had been pulled off of his bed and over her trembling legs.

Sal seemed to have fallen asleep as well. His prosthetic laid on the floor beside him, though he held a pillow over his face to avoid exposure. Violet's eyes wandered onto their entwined fingers. It was a comforting sight, to say the least. She gave his hand a squeeze, allowing herself to take a few more deep breaths before looking up at his alarm clock. The fluorescent numbers read 12:38.

"Sal?" She squeaked, using her free hand to rub his shoulder. "Sally?"

He hummed, lazily throwing an arm out to reach for his prosthetic.

"Get in your bed. I gotta go home."

"What time is it?" He mumbled.

"Midnight."

"Shit."

The blue-haired boy slipped his prosthetic under his pillow, fumbling with the straps until he heard two clicks, before pushing himself into a sitting position. His hair had been released from its notorious pigtails and now hung at his shoulders. Tangled and messy as it may have been, Sal pulled it off.

For a moment, the two sat there in silence, staring into each other's tired eyes. It was clear that neither of them were ready to part ways. Violet rested her forehead on Sal's prosthetic and closed her eyes, pulling his hand closer to her.

"You okay?" He asked her, tucking a strand of loose hair behind her ear. He couldn't help but notice how shaky she was.

She shrugged. "I had a stupid nightmare, that's all. I'm fine."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

She told him every detail she could remember. She told him about Red Eyes, her empty room, the darkness, her inability to breathe, and the excruciating pain she endured. The entire time she spoke, he rubbed circles on the top of her hand with his thumb. It made Violet regret not trusting him enough to tell him such things sooner. The very action of telling him of her distress made her feel a hundred times safer. For once, someone was listening to her.

"I have nightmares about it too," he admitted. "But they're just dreams. They can't hurt you."

"I thought I was dying..." Violet whimpered, tears pricking her eyes.

Sal wrapped his arms around her, gently rocking her back and forth. He couldn't stand seeing her so upset, especially over something he had to struggle with. Violet didn't deserve to be this scared. Life was enough of a nightmare. She deserved a peaceful sleep.

"It's okay, Vi," he whispered, holding her closer as she began to cry. "I'm right here. I won't let anything hurt you."

The girl's head fell onto his shoulder, muffling her cries. What was it about her that interested this demon so much? If anything, it should be going after him! There was a reason he kept Violet as uninvolved with the supernatural world as possible.

"You're safe." His words were mindless, as he glared at the moon peeking through his window. "You're safe..."