Title: Somnolence
Rating: M
Warnings: Images of non-con.
Summary: When your dreams become your worst nightmare, how does one separate fiction from reality?

AN: When I first wrote this I intended it to be a one-shot...but now it sounds more like a prologue so I don't really know...we'll see how you guys like it I guess.

The one being 'attacked' is Kai...I haven't decided who the other person is yet so again, for the moment, I'll let you guys think what you want.

I also managed to confused the Hell out of my friend and myself so...Kai is the one referred to as 'he' or 'him' and the 'attacker' is referred to as the 'figure' 'shadow' or 'it'...even though 'it' is clearly male. Before you ask me why there are no names...I didn't feel like it at the time and it works for now, if I write more I'll put names in.

The grammar sucks...I'm tired and I dont feel like going over it, I might later.

Disclaimer: I do not own Beyblade or any of it's affiliates, I can barely afford my coffee! Oh, Starbucks, why are you so mean to me with your over-priced coffee?


Somnolence

He saw things in his sleep.

Things he did not want to see.

It was all some vivid reoccurring dream, it had to be, but he wasn't sure anymore. It all felt so real. He could feel it, remembering every detail as it replayed itself in his mind.

Sweet words whispered in his ear, a gentle caress; lips claiming every part of his body, sensually marking him as he could feel himself being brutally taken again and again by this mysterious shadow.

He didn't know what it was, nor what had triggered it, but every night it was the same thing. It escalated with every occurring dream. At first it had just been one-sided innuendo, then turned into touching, and had finally turning into him being forced on by this figure relentlessly, making him scream in the utmost pain and pleasure.

After that, he would awaken. Clothes and sheets drenched with his sweat, his breathing laboured and his heart pounding nearly to the point of bursting from his chest. He would sit there blinking frantically trying to find himself in the distorted world as the images flashed through his head making sure he remembered their presence.

How could he forget?

It was like a record stuck on repeat, playing and replaying itself endlessly until it wore itself out. But in this case, it was him who was being worn out.

He couldn't understand how a mere dream would end up having such an effect on him. He found himself eventually trying to evade sleep altogether, anything to keep the dreams away. Anything to keep the wandering hands away from his shivering body. It had been easy the first week, he had never slept much anyways, but even his body was not infallible. After the week came and went, he felt himself weakening. He was lethargic, stumbling sleepily through the seemingly long days, his body heavy and hard to support, his thoughts were numb and his reflexes were slow.

Every night as he tried to keep himself awake, he could feel himself slipping more and more. The images of the 'dream' flashing in and out of his vision as he would lose consciousness and regain it again momentarily. With every passing moment his eyes became heavier and his thoughts became nothing more than incoherent slurs as everything around him started to blur and darken.

A familiar setting appeared in his head but this time did not recede, it wasn't the same room he had been in just a minute ago...his heart dropped as he realized with horror that he must have drifted off. He was trapped in a world his tormentor had created for him inside his own dreams and he would not be released until 'it' was satisfied.

He found himself pinned down on a wide bed, a strong arm tightly holding his wrists above his head as the other shamelessly roamed his body, making him squirm and feel violated with every lecheroustouch.

The room, with its minimal light was pretty much pitch black save for the rays of moonlight that shone through the open window and over the bed, which only managed to distort the room with odd shapes and shadows and further obscure the face of the figure above him.

Even though he could not see the face, he could feel the smirk on the figure's lips and the satisfaction radiating off.

He yelped as the roaming hand made its way under his shirt, gently stroking the soft skin before pulling out again to nimbly unbutton his shirt. Once it was opened, it was moved off of his shoulders to allow for a better view and more access. He shivered as the cold air attacked his body.

Lips brushed gently against his collarbone and he gasped. He wanted to scream with all of his strength. Hell, he was trying, he could feel the pressure in his chest and the air expel from his throat, but no sound reached their ears.

And he realized, to his horror that he could no longer speak.

The figure seemed to sense his distress and raised its head to look at him, regarding him curiosly. The light, having changed ever so slighty allowed him to now see the smirk on its lips.

"Do not fret." The shadow whispered huskily as it shifted around above him, then preceding to nibble on his ear lobe.

As the shadow continued his ministrations on his ear and leg he felt his pants and boxers being removed slowly. He tried to squirm away, but he realized he could not move either. He was paralyzed and mute and he had never felt so helpless or scared.

His mind was panicking and his pants were dropped to the floor in a forgotten heap, he was completely exposed and vulnerable as he felt the other press against him between his legs.

The shadow was already wearing nothing and he did not need to guess what it was going to do…it happened every time.

"Because you will soon be mine." The shadow stopped its assault on his neck and once again raised its head to regard him and smiled maliciously before running atongue over pointed teeth and parted lips.

The previously wandering hand stopped on his hip and his eyes widened. A hollow laughter filled his ears and echoed throughout his mind as white-hot pain was sent in a mad fury to every nerve. The shadow had entered him, ripping the tender opening and continued to relentlessly tear away at the flesh as he screamed.


It's so weird, I'm sorry.

Uhh so...I don't know if I want to do anything with it...if I do updates will be slow.

Anyways, reviews are appreciated. CC, liked it, hated it, want me to continue, don't want me to continue, ideas...even if you want to say hi...I'll say hi back!

-points to the purple button- Please and thank you.