Lucid Nightmare: Death and Despair

"How much longer will I have to stay in here?" 
Until the day you fall in love me, that's for sure, thought Flatline, and then mentally whacked himself. Ugh! Stop throwing yourself out at her! She's not interested in you, Flatline, so get over it. 
But it was awful! The way his heart ached, just thinking about her. The way her scales gleamed like polished ebony, the way her eyes lit up whenever she laughed at his bad jokes. He remembered the first time he met her — "Nightingale... that's a pretty name." He remembered what he'd said to her the next day when she'd woken up — "It is hard not to look into your eyes and lose myself in them." 
For a second, he almost wanted to ask one of the potion smiths to create a love potion. But it would be fake love — he wanted only the rawest, more pure affection. Why am I obsessed with a dragon who doesn't even love me back? he wondered. Why do I waste my time on Nightingale when there are other dragons who will probably love me the same way I love them? 
Because I want Nightingale and no one else, he admitted to himself a moment later. He sighed and rested his head on his talons. "I don't know when you leave," he said. But just know that I will never forget you, his mind whispered as another piece of his heart broke off and fell into the pit of hated death and despair. 
Nightingale, he thought again. That's a pretty name. 
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Hey everyone, it's Darkdragon2670 (aka Dark). Please do not edit and/or steal! **This fanfiction takes place 100 years after the Scorching and 100 years before the reign of Queen Diamond. This fanfiction also has characters from my own fanon tribe, the DayWings. This is the sequel to Lucid Nightmare (The Eye of Chaos). Also - the SwiftWings (and Vampire Dragons) are owned by Wings-of-Bloodfire, the DeathWings are owned by Atomicake.
Author's Note: all characters used in Lucid Nightmare are merely a figmentation of the author's imagination and any references to any characters (living or dead, canon or fanon) are entirely coincidental. Yes, I read the publisher's note on the WoF books and tried to write it from memory so sue me (don't sue me, please). Other than that, carry on and enjoy! 
~PROLOGUE~ 
Flatline tried very hard not to look offended. "Magpie always told me that tribes should never 'mingle' with each other. Then you get abominations like yourself." Nightingale thumped her tail on the cold stone floor of her prison cell.
"So I would get — abominations, was it? — of... myself? That doesn't make any sense." he replied. His scythe glittered in the green firelight, casting rays of emerald green across the prison hallway. The usually dark gray underground prison seemed more... alive, now that Nightingale was here. 
"I meant 'you' as a whole of Pyrrhia," she retorted. 
"Oh," he replied, feeling more empty and desolate than usual. His wings drooped and Nightingale tapped his shoulder. 
"When will I get to eat dinner?" she demanded. "I'm so tired of being cooped up in here like a trapped chicken — I need to fly! My wings are cramping! How much longer will I have to stay in here?" Until the day you fall in love me, that's for sure, thought Flatline, and then mentally whacked himself. Ugh! Stop throwing yourself out at her! She's not interested in you, Flatline, so get over it. 
But it was awful! The way his heart ached, just thinking about her. The way her scales gleamed like polished ebony, the way her eyes lit up whenever she laughed at his bad jokes. He remembered the first time he met her — "Nightingale... that's a pretty name." He remembered what he'd said to her the next day when she'd woken up — "It is hard not to look into your eyes and lose myself in them." 
For a second, he almost wanted to ask one of the potion smiths to create a love potion. But it would be fake love — he wanted only the rawest, more pure affection. Why am I obsessed with a dragon who doesn't even love me back? he wondered. Why do I waste my time on Nightingale when there are other dragons who will probably love me the same way I love them? 
Because I want Nightingale and no one else, he admitted to himself a moment later. He sighed and rested his head on his talons. "I don't know when you leave," he said. But just know that I will never forget you, his mind whispered as another piece of his heart broke off and fell into the pit of despair. Nightingale, he thought again. That's a pretty name. 
"Are you all right?" asked Nightingale, her voice impossibly soft, almost lost in the overlapping sounds of unseen insects and the hum of the sparks of electricity running up and down the walls of her prison. 
Flatline lifted his snout towards the green fire lamps. "Yeah. I guess so." 
"What's wrong?" she inquired. Flatline twisted around to see her watching him, a worried expression pulling at her snout as her two-colored eyes bored into his. "You sound... hollow. Empty." 
He laughed. "Right. The best way to describe a dragon's tone of voice: empty. Or hollow. I applaud your wittiness." 
"What's wrong?" she asked again. She touched his claw with her own. "Why are you sad? Who died? Your grandpa? Just finding out about it now? Maybe your horribly mad at someone because they stole your kumquats?" 
"Ew," said Flatline. "Kumquats. Gross." 
"Your face is gross," she replied. "Wait. That doesn't make sense. Your idea of humor is gross. There! Just got... scorched?" she offered. 
Flatline grinned. "That works."
Category:Content (Darkdragon2670)
Category:Fanfictions (Incomplete)
Category:Fanfictions (Fanon)
Category:Fanfictions
Category:Genre (Mystery)
Category:Genre (Comedy)
Category:Genre (Prophecy)