He went to sleep without a single worry in his mind. Dream took him with crushing grip, pulled him under, to dark paths. Scalpels, doctors. Searing pain. Bright flashes from welding torches. Cold fingers poking his internal organs, pushing them out of the way when they cut deeper and he screamed, he was screaming but only inside of his own head. Tears streaked his face. Hand delved deeper in to him. Grabbed a hold of something and pulled. Wet sound of tissues tearing. Blood and bile were rising to his throat. He could see from the corner of his eye one of the doctors, kneeling beside him on the operating table, right hand disappearing inside of gaping hole on his stomach up to the elbow. The doctor was pulling out bits and pieces of him, throwing them to a trash can near the table.
“Let’s clean him up before the final stage,” he could hear doctor saying. His vision turned red and he knew he was bleeding through his tear ducts. Then suddenly a small hand landed on his forehead, fingers combing through his tangled, bloodied and sweaty hair with soothing motion and he was able to open his eyes and crawl in to the bathroom on his hands and knees.
She could hear him gagging and retching. She must have gotten here just in time. No screaming and claws this time. But utter terror in his eyes made her nearly cry. She had no idea of what he was dreaming, and no way to take away the pain. She could hear him flushing the toilet. Brushing his teeth. Bathroom door opened and he returned to bed, pulling her with him under covers. She could feel his heart hammering against her back.
“Close your eyes, little one. I don’t want you to see this,” he whispered with pained voice, still in clutches of his nightmare.
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