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The Nightmare Never Ends	By : Raholea Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > General Views: 1099 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own HP, the Harry Potter Characters, creatures, or themes. I do not own any elements from any of the freddy Krueger characters, elements, themes, etc. I make no money from the writing and posting of this fic.

Chapter List
- 1-The Nightmare Never Ends
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This was inspired heavily from a HP Creatures prompt for their 2011 HP CREATURES FEST Halloween Challenge, on Live Journal. I didn't want to partake in the challenge, but I loved this otherwise unclaimed prompt too much to ignore.

This story has been posted to my LJ acct (Kyuubi_paw) and linked over to the HP Creatures comm for full appreciation of the story. Cross posting or Copying of this story without my specific permission is otherwise denied. I will sic Fenrir on your tails.

Prompt Scenario: As a child, Remus Lupin keeps dreaming that he is stalked by a giant werewolf with yellow teeth and razor-sharp claws. Always, just when the werewolf catches him, he wakes up screaming, only to discover razor cuts on his pyjamas and his skin, just like in the dream. One night, Remus doesn't wake up when the werewolf attacks.

Now, on to the fic....

Remus screamed as he bolted awake in bed. Cold sweat dripped along his body, and his shoulders ached in phantom pains for the terrifying dreams he’d just been ripped from. A warm hand brushed along his cheek, and he spooked, face and eyes flying up to see his mom’s worried face. “Remy, honey, you okay?”

He shook his head a little, still feeling the sting in his shoulders and the terror haunting him into his waking moments. “Bad dream,” he whispers, voice shaky and a little raw. He must have been screaming before he woke up. “It’s the big bad wolf again.” His mom nodded, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him close for a comforting hug. This was the third time the dream had happened, both occasions being just the week before.

She had credited it to a scary movie the babysitter had let him watch the weekend before the dreams started, a nasty werewolf movie that had way too much gore and violence for her eight year-old son. At least, her theory seemed fully supported by the level of nightmares that had woken her up because his screaming had filled the house with pain and terror. She cradled him against her, running her hands along his back and trying to soothe the worries away. He was home, and safe, and she would keep him safe. Everything was fine, everything would be okay...

Her words slowed as he flinched violently when her hand brushed along the outside of his left shoulderblade, just away from the soft skin of the armpit. She frowned slightly, wiping it off her face as she encouraged him to sit up a little better and peel his shirt off. He complied, peeling the loose white t-shirt he wore for sleeping over his head. She turned his shaking, sweat-damp body and gasped at the livid lines of red that sloped over Remus’ back. Four lines about three inches long ran along both outer edges of his upper back, like someone had tried to grab him around the ribs and missed. Violent enough to chafe the skin, they were luckily not bleeding, but the sign panicked her. What was happening to her little boy?

“Mom?” His voice quivered, then hissed as she tenderly prodded along the edge of the raised, irritated skin. “It’s alright Remy. How about you come sleep in my bed tonight? I can keep the monsters away.”

“O..okay.” He didn’t sound much encouraged, but he hadn’t been allowed to sleep in her bed in years. When she turned him around he had a tentative, hopeful little smile on his face. She ruffled his hair a little and swore to herself that she wouldn’t let anything else hurt her son.

That night was the last night he’d had that dream. Months dragged into years, until he’d nearly forgotten about those three nightmares. He was always careful, though, never watching werewolf movies, or any scary dog movies. At twelve he hung out at the back of the room, face in his pillow and tense when one of his friends brought out ‘Cujo’ at a sleepover. A year later another friend decided it’d be cool to watch the American Werewolf movies, back to back.

Remus had fled home that night, the sounds of howling and tearing flesh echoing in his mind as he hid in his closet. His mom found him nearly an hour later, curled up in a terrified ball. It took her hours to coax him out of the tiny space, calm him down, and soothe him to sleep. But the damage was done.

A week later the nightmares returned.

There was something lurking in the darkness, a presence that projected sinister, devilish vibes. It was a familiar presence, like an old friend, but this was far from comforting. Remus turned on the path, knowing in his mind that he was sixteen, nearly an adult, but on this path he felt like he was eight again. He always felt like he had those first couple of nightmares, small, defenseless, terrified. He knew that he would run, the beast in the shadows would chase him, and he’d wake up screaming. Always.

He dared to wonder, as he stood and circled in one spot, waiting to figure which direction he needed to run this time, he dared wonder how many scratches he would have when he woke tonight. Sometimes it was a couple of small marks, and they would be gone by the time he left for school. Other times they were deep scratches, dripping blood down his skin and took days to heal. Once, he’d woken to two claw- like marks across his face, that left behind faint scars. Usually, though, they marked his back, a last blow to his body as he wrenched himself from the nightmare.

A pair of red lights, not bigger than large marbles, flashed in the darkness to his right. The grating chuckle, the nasty sound that he imagined a dog would make if it could growl and laugh at the same, filled his ears. Remus turned and fled away from those eyes. The blood- red eyes that haunted his waking hours blinked out of his sight, but Remus knew they weren’t gone. They’d never be gone. No amount of counseling and psychiatric therapy- and he’d had a ton of it in the last two years- could ever banish those eyes. He saw them when he closed his own eyes during the day; they were the sign the monster was present when he slid into the nightmares. Those damning eyes, the heart- rending growls, the iridescent full moon. The nightmare, no matter how often it came, the dream always had a full moon. It cast sharp shadows and illuminated bits of the forest he was running through.

The full moon was never a blessing in his nightmares. Sharp branches turned into claws, wanting to catch on his skin, patches of water became pools of blood. And it always hid the monster hunting him.

A howl picked up behind him, echoing as the song climbed up to the sky, the sound of a hunter’s pleasure. Remus tried to force his feet faster, running fast enough his chest was heaving, fear making his muscles clench and strain, breath gasping in shallow, harsh sounds. He needed to get away, to wake up, to just do something. Anything. Stay away from the monster. He could be happy if only he didn’t have this damned nightmare ruining his life.

A snapping sound came from his left, a branch being broken with extreme force. Remus bolted instinctively, dashing to the right, weaving around a large oak and continuing on, feet pouncing through the dirt. Fear rose as another sound came, the sound of rushing, pounding feet, faster than his. Another cracking sound as a sapling somewhere behind him was crushed, and the growling, snarling sounds of the chasing beast filled his ears. They flooded out the sound of his whimper, mixing with the wheezing sound of his breathing until it was one pounding, tumultuous mess in his head. He’d wake up soon, he knew. He always woke up right as the beast caught up to him. He needed to wake up, just pull out of the nightmare and escape the vicious fangs and claws that chased him.

A dark mass launched itself from somewhere behind him, soaring over his head and hitting the ground in front of him. It rose from the dirt, this beast that had been his bane. Dark fur covered a large, muscled body, disproportionate and corrupt, large pointed ears on a huge head. Below it were those glowing red eyes, piercing him with their stare, and flashing, huge yellow fangs. The beast, this werewolf, snarled again, the sound trickling from its bared muzzle as it stalked forward. Remus scrambled backwards, terror gripping his throat as his mind filled with the sight of this monster. The claws on its paws were large, hooked things, good for raking and slashing, bleeding and killing its prey. He’d seen and felt them against his flesh dozens of times.

A pathetic whimper crawled from Remus’ throat as he tore his eyes away, scrambling in the dirt as he turned and bolted away. He needed to wake up, needed to snap out of this, he needed to escape. The roaring noise was after his immediately, body pounding after his. He wanted to wake up, needed it, chanted it in his mind.

Claws sunk into his back, and he screamed. Pain exploded across his body and he stumbled, still screaming in pain and terror as his chest hit the dirt. He should have awoken. He need to wake, snap out of this. He screamed again as claws slashed the other way, his back suddenly flooding his nervous system with torrents of agony. He needed to wake up. Now. Now. Please, wake up NOW.

A clawed hand grabbed an ankle and hoisted his body into the air, until his face stared at the knees of the creature and his shoulder length hair brushed the leaves on the ground. He craned his chin closer to his chest, staring toward the sky and the open maw above him. The werewolf grinned down at him, tongue flipping out and lapping at the snout and over the sharp, stained teeth. “Finally.”

Remus froze at the word. Never had his nightmare spoken to him. Hell, he should have been awake by now, nursing a few more scrapes. He wasn’t feeling like his childhood self anymore, he felt like this was his current body, held easily in the grasp of this beast. “Fuck you!” He swore, wanting to get away, no longer knowing how to do so.

“Mine. I have waited far too long, pup, marked you too many times. Now you’re mine.” The werewolf tossed him, limb moving in a casual manner even as his body flew across the forest, snapping branches as he passed, body crumpling as it rolled a couple of times when it hit the dirt.

Remus tried to push himself up, but one arm wouldn’t cooperate, and he looked down to see stark white and crimson blood on his arm. It took several startling moments before he realized what he was staring at and screamed, his whole body filled with pain and unable to distinguish what hurt and why. But he could plainly see the way his bone had broken and shoved through his arm. “No, no, no no no no...” He babbled, rolling onto the other side to try and get up. The beast was stalking toward him leisurely, and Remus shook in terror and pain as he tried to force his body to move, make his mind wake up, anything at all to escape. But he couldn’t.

“Does this hurt?” One claw reached out as the wolf knelt by him, poking roughly at the protruding bone. Remus screamed. “Poor pup. All broken.” There was an edge of volitile humour in the voice and the laugh that followed. “Now, do I eat you, or do I reward myself for finally catching my longest prey?”

Remus screamed again as the hand clenched around the greenstick break, grinding torn flesh and broken bone edges together, blood pooling between the furred digits. The pain, added to everything else, was too much, and as his vision faded he hoped that he would wake up in one piece. That this time the nightmare wouldn’t follow him into the real world. The last thing he felt was a damp, pointy nose prodding around his stomach, and a cruel laugh as new pain exploded through him.

Remus clawed upward to bright light, his body aching everywhere as he opened his eyes to his room. His whole body felt like he’d taken a beating, but the bits he could remember from his dream told him he should be dead. Or at least worse than this. He managed to prop himself up on his bed, taking quick inventory of bruises and scratches but no broken, protruding bones, no missing chunks of flesh. It wasn’t until he was done giving himself a shaky once- over that he noticed he’d dropped a rumpled piece of paper on the bed. That had never happened before. With trembling fingers he picked it up and smoothed it open.

“Hello Pup. Enjoy your second chance at life. Now you’re just like me. I’ll see you in two day’s time. ~ Fenrir ”

Remus crumpled the paper and stood, ignoring the protesting joints and wounds as he shoved himself toward the bathroom. He stopped at the sink, forcing himself to look into the mirror, even though something in him dreaded it.

Blood- red eyes stared out of his own face, and he screamed again.

Something inside wished that Fenrir had merely killed him instead.

____

R&R and constructive criticism very much welcome. it's unbeta'd, barring a spell check. all mistakes are my own.
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The Nightmare Never Ends