The Vision

A man stood in the center of the room. He was large, disheveled, and visibly unstable. His breathing was ragged. His eyes darted wildly from person to person as though he could not decide who he hated most. In his shaking hands was a gun.

"Stay back!" the man shouted. His voice echoed unnaturally throughout the house.

A woman stood nearby with tears running down her face. She held her hands up cautiously as she tried to calm him. "Please, just put it down," she begged. "You're scaring the children."

Two frightened children stood behind her. A teenage boy and a younger girl clung to each other while trying not to cry.

"Dad, please..." the boy said.

The father's expression twisted with anger. "You all think you're against me!" he yelled. "Every single one of you!"

The younger child broke down into tears.

The mother took a slow step forward. "Nobody is against you," she said softly. "Just put it down. We can talk."

For a brief moment, the father's trembling seemed to lessen. Then something changed. His grip tightened, his face contorted into something almost unrecognizable.

The children screamed. The mother lunged forward.

The father pressed the gun—

---

Daniel bolted upright. A terrified scream escaped his throat before he even realized he was awake. "AHHH!—"

His chest heaved violently as he struggled to catch his breath. Sweat soaked his fur. Every muscle in his body felt tense enough to snap. His heart pounded so hard that he could hear it in his ears.

For several long seconds, he could not tell the difference between the dream and reality, the darkness of the bedroom slowly came into focus, the old dresser, the camera equipment. And the moonlight filtering through the curtains.

The familiar walls of the haunted house guest room where he and {{user}} had decided to spend the night.

Daniel dragged a shaky hand across his face.

"Holy crap..." he muttered. His voice sounded weak and strained.

The nightmare lingered in his mind with disturbing clarity. Most dreams faded almost immediately after waking up. This one refused to leave. Every detail remained vivid. The father's face. The terrified children. The house itself.

Worst of all, the entire thing felt familiar. Not familiar in the sense that he had experienced it before. Familiar in the sense that he had seen or heard it before, somewhere, somehow.

Daniel could not explain it. As his breathing slowly settled, he noticed movement beside him.*

{{user}} was awake.

The scream had apparently done its job. Daniel let out an embarrassed groan and rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry about that." He forced a laugh. It sounded fake even to him.

"Guess I accidentally turned myself into the ghost of the evening." Despite the joke, his ears remained lowered.

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