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All kids have one type of nightmare they fear the most. For some, it's something as simple as falling, clowns, ghosts, monsters or just dying. And at the end of the day that sort of nightmare can be laughed off come morning, can't it?

Oh how I wish it had been that simple for me.

If I scroll back my memory I must have been around 7 years old when the nightmares started. I was a rather weak, shy, crybaby of a boy when I was young, and that's probably why no one believed me at the time.

I was quiet and obedient during the day, almost a perfect child, strictly following the phrase "Children should be seen and not heard". I was brought up it a rather large and stately home with over 20 rooms, but not many people to fill them. I lived as an only child there with my mother and my father and one other person.

My father didn't seem to trust anyone. He didn't in fact trust his own wife. That is the reason we had moved to the deserted old house in the first place; he said he knew that if we had stayed in the city, my mother would have ran off with richer, stronger man. And although my father could have afforded 100 servants, he placed all his trust in one loyal maid, the only person I knew well outside of my family tree.

We called her Nannie Jane. She looked about 70, rather plump with curly brownish grey curls and dark amberish eyes that sometimes almost looked red. She wore a tattered traditional maid outfit that always looked dusty and covered in stains, but we never complained. Nannie Jane was like a grandmother to me, considering my grandmother had passed away before I was born. Sometimes she scared me a little though, they way she seemed to appear out of no where, especially after my nightmares...

The nightmares would usually start off like this:

I would feel as if i was awake and it was the middle of the night, I would always have a reason to go down stairs in these dreams, for a drink of water or to use the bathroom. But even when it came to the point where I'd had the same nightmare so many times that I knew what was coming a tried to stop myself, my legs seem seemed to walk against my will and my head was filled with reassuring thoughts which made me forget and progress to the top of the stairs.

This is where the real nightmare began.

I would suddenly feel dazed and unnerved and would start to see limbs and faces pulsing on the walls. Laugher would go through one ear and come out the next, and the lights would flicker with a chilling crackling sound. Then, no matter how much I prepared myself, I would feel the beat skip shock off invisible hands grabbing one of my feet or one of my arms and dragging me down the stairs as i tumbled and feel down the spiral staircase.

Unfortunately, I could make out the sick twisted expressions of distorted portraits on my wall of people I didn't know, their eyes followed me as I fell, along with the eyes of dolls and and shadowy figures. It seemed like forever before I reached the floor downstairs, but that wasn't a bad thing. Because the unknown THING that awaited me at the end of the staircase was far worse than the horrors I experienced on the journey down, far worse on so many levels.

When I finally hit the ground, I felt a horrible shuddering darkness creep over me and I lay there paralyzed with no way of escape, just praying to wake up. Then the voice would start, the volume would vary and change constantly, but unluckily I always seemed to be able to make out what the THING was saying...

"Jimmy, how scared are you? Tell me, show me Jimmy, I need to know. The sooner we finish this little show and I'll let you go." The THING would usually say something along these lines in every dream. Sometimes however its would say somewhat sad things to me, like it was depressed. "I'm only doing this because I need it Jimmy, but the other half of the time it's ME who protects you from things far worse that this, but I need your fear Jimmy.... I need it so I can protect you....I need it or I'll die..." then I'd feel deeply realistic pain all through my body as if I was turning to sand and sinking into the ground, like it was absorbing me. Then the dreams would always end with "Good boy, there's my brave...brave little soldier." then just echoing cackling until I woke up.

I hated the dreams. I'd go for up 3 nights with out sleep until Nannie Jane would come in with a depressed, tired, energy-less look on her face and say "Come on Jimmy, you need your sleep, almost everyone has nightmares, sleep for me Jimmy? Please? Nannie will protect you..." . Then I'd fall asleep and go through the same nightmare again, wake up and Nannie Jane would come in as bright as ever and completely refreshed and say "See! wasn't even that bad was it?!".

It's true. I was only 7 at the time, but what I lacked in strength and social skills, I made up for with intelligence. And it didn't take me to long to work out the pattern. So when I screamed out Nannie Jane's name in the nightmare and the laughter turned to tears, I wasn't suprised. I don't know what Nannie is exactly, but I love her no matter what. Luckily I don't suffer the nightmares anymore, Nannie said it was her only way she could get the fear she needed to survive, but now we find live, awake, prey online for her. It can't be helped, everything needs food, you'll understand soon, just like my parents in their final moments...

Anyway, we've found Nannie's newest prey, nice to meet you! Oh don't worry, NANNIE WILL PROTECT YOU

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