This door really feels like the odd man out in this room. You feel as if you’re looking at the entrance of a kindergarten, the bright paint and children’s drawings looking playful and inviting. This couldn’t really be a nightmare, could it…?
Stepping inside doesn’t feel any less wrong, as you look around at the brightly lit room full of soft toys and children's activities. You must have made some kind of mistake, now you definitely know this isn’t a nightmare. You turn to make your exit, before being stopped by a quick yank on your sleeve.
“Ohhhhh no way, bub! You’re not leaving me to deal with these snot nosed terrors alone!”
… Okay, maybe this is somebody’s nightmare.
You turn to look at the source of the barking voice, and see a very exhausted looking Constance. Judging by the environment, you’re able to piece together this dream involves kids in some way. Strange, shouldn’t a clown be used to dealing with children?
“Hah! Right! Entertaining kids is easy, but babysitting? Please! I don’t know what these brats want! Blood probably, I haven’t tried.” She scoffs, rolling her eyes, “You’re free to give it a shot if you want.”
Oh, she’s being a dramatic teenager. There’s no way it can be that bad, right? You begin to wonder where exactly these kids are, and scan the room, only for your heart to immediately sink. You’re not sure how you missed it the first time around, but you now are gazing at a row of countless children lined up before you. They all stare at you, not speaking, not blinking, their dark, empty eyes fixed intently on you. You grow increasingly uneasy, unsure what they want from you, and you take a step back away from them.
This seems to trigger something in them, as they begin to step forward, their small hands reaching out towards you and Connie as you’re suddenly surrounded.
“Plaaay….. Play with usss…” They begin to speak in unison, their voices blending together with such harmony it feels completely unnatural and inhuman, “We want to play a game…..”
Connie shudders with a distressed groan, before jumping up to slap the back of your head, “Good one, genius! Well, go on! Hurry up! Figure out a way to calm them down before they rip us apart or make us have a tea party or something!”
Art by ghost.