Beta read by: SinikkavonWolperting

Alright, so this is the story I think I'm most excited about, seeing as it's one that is finally delving into the genre that I love most, that being horror. C: So hopefully people like this; this is mostly a teaser of sorts, so that's why it's so so short. Concept may be far fetched, but bear with me here.

Also have a message at the end.

That noise, so grating, so penetrating, scraping through the air and into his head. Like nails on a chalkboard, each drag resounding off the interior of his skull more painfully than the last. He didn't dare move, no, more so found himself unable to pry himself off the bed, or even convince his eyes to open if only the slightest amount. His body wouldn't let him, and at this time, Noctis understood true petrification, understood what it meant to be trapped and bound down by one's own fear. But, why was he so afraid? There was nothing to truly be afraid of. 'Scratch.' Another injection of ice plunged through him. Mumbling, spoken so softly, yet completely uncontrolled followed the sound. That sounded so unlike the friend he had come to know, and somehow, he could still hear him in it.

'Scratch.' He felt nothing as more terror was pumped though his veins, he wanted to call out, wanted to scream, to help, to do anything. But, he couldn't. There was no one but the two of them, no others around to hear him if he were able to give in to his urge.

'Scratch.' He had to do something, lying their like a frightened child would accomplish nothing. A shuddering breath. A demand to himself to just open his eyes, but what if what he saw was that of a true nightmare? No. That shouldn't matter. He needed him, and he would be damned if he was going to revert into a frightened child and leave him there on his own.

'Scratch.' Dammit, why was this so hard? Why was everything so numb, so encased in solidified horror, slowly suffocating him.

'Scratch.' So undenyingly calling him for aid, begging for someone to take it all away.

'Scratch.' Finally, his eyelids cooperated, cracking open, but nothing coming into view for them; only stark black greeting him with anticipation.

'Scratch.' He opened his mouth to speak, only succeeding in releasing a small and meaningless croak. Heart now grasped in chilled tendrils, weaving in and around, he held his breath before attempting again.

'Scratch.' "P-Prom?" Breathy and uncertain, his voice joined the fray of scrapes and mumbles, almost getting lost within them. The noise stopped. Though, relief should have replaced his fear, it didn't. Only more dread and more apprehension. "Prom?" He asked again, mustering the will to speak louder. A strained and agonized fueled sob took the place of his response; it shattered the border between reality and delusion, and he prayed to himself, begged to himself, that this was merely a bad dream. It had to be. Unseen weights painstakingly fled his body, giving Noctis permission to go to him.

He acted almost without purpose, limbs moving on their own as his instincts to just help took over. One foot on the floor, the other hesitating in its following, and another stifled wail brushing past him as he pulled his body upright. The process of walking over was slow, reluctant and cautious. The choking hold of utter and absolute panic teased its fingers across his throat and chest. "Prom, what are you doing?" his question pulled the other to a halt, the once rocking silhouette coming to a deathly stillness that sent a tremor through his spine.

"Lass mich raus," he spluttered out against another sob. "Lass mich raus, lass mich raus," he repeated, hand drifting back to the wall and falling back into its idle rhythm of clawing, clawing over and over without restraint. "Lass mich raus," he spoke louder, voice becoming more clear, taking on an edge that was so unlike him. Noctis took another step, footfalls drowned out by Prompto's desperate pleas. Foot in front of foot, each one being placed down reluctantly until he was within arm's reach.

"Hey," his heart raced, pounding against his ribs in an attempt to fruitlessly escape. It hurt, unimaginably so, "Prom, why don't you," he paused to lick dry lips, a trembling exhale fluttering out, "Why don't you go back to bed, alright?" He didn't recognize his own voice, it sounded too reserved, too restrained and trifling. Silence followed, deafening quiet that only assisted in accentuating the ringing blaring in his ears. His hand was reaching before he could constrain himself, "Hello?" It was placed on the blond's shoulder.

Prompto didn't react to the contact, only sign being him allowing his own shaking hand fall onto his crossed legs. He took a deep breath, the tremors racked through him and up the prince's own arm. A drawn out and anguish laden whine slipped out, his head careening forward to lean against the once pristine wall of their room. Even in the blackened night, the darkened stains stood out. "Come on, let's get you back," Noctis tried again, hand traveling down to his bicep and gently tugged.

Startled, he gasped, snatching his arm away as he dragged himself backwards, almost primal-like, pulling with his arms and kicking with his feet, only stopping once his back found the corner. His face was shoved against the wall, mouth agape in a silent cry, "Bitte, lass mich raus!" He pulled his knees under his chin, both arms now wrapped tightly around them protectively, "Ich will gehen, lass mich einfach gehen!"

Noctis still had his hand outstretched, hovering in shock and frozen in fear, breath hitching as he was once again at a loss of what to do.

"Lass mich raus!" He shouted this time, words echoing off the walls, seemingly taking on an imitation of itself. It was inhuman. This wasn't Prompto.

Ok, so I just wanna be real for a moment here, and feel free to just skip over this part, it holds no significance to this story, just some stuff I want to say. But, it's still something I want to throw out there. I don't talk about my feelings or anything much, so this probably won't be happening again anytime soon. Anyway, I'll just go ahead and say it, I'm someone who doesn't think very highly of themselves, take that as you may, but I do tend to have a lot of doubting and at times hateful thoughts about myself. And I night, I can't do anything but think about everything I'm doing wrong. I don't tell people this for obvious reasons, but I have a point to this. When I write these stories, it's literally the only thing on my mind, so I don't dwell on those feelings, and I guess in a way, it is a sort of escape, or distraction. Almost just mindless typing. That's also why I think I write as much as I do; it's one of the only times I don't feel so worthless.

Then I actually get people commenting on these things, people who actually enjoy these and only make it that much more rewarding. Despite knowing that one day, this stuff will mean nothing, it's still unexplainably gratifying to know someone is actually finding some sort of enjoyment. And, when he do start feeling unmotivated or start thinking horrible about myself, I do go back and re-read some of the comments, and it honestly does lift me back up, as cliche and dramatic as it may sound. But a lot of the time, they are literally the highlight of my day.

And the more I think about it, the more guilty I feel, seeing as I don't put as much effort into these as I could be doing. I should be trying harder than I do, or else it seems like a disservice to those who genuinely likes these. But, then I thought even if my stories are something like fillers between the really nice ones out there, then I still feel good about them. And, I'm not gonna lie, I do get a bit emotional in a sense reading some of them, because it feels so damn nice to have those doubting thoughts drowned out by such positive feedback, and I can't explain enough how much I do appreciate it. And I do try to comment back to everything, and I know some of my responses may not come off as pure, but that's just my social awkwardness; I really do not know how to interact with people very well.

Anyway, the point of all this, is that you guys are great, and I really wanted a better way to thank you guys. So, I was thinking of starting a little mini series as a way of giving back. I'll take requests and do little drabbles and one-shots. And they can be about any of the guys, don't have to be about Prompto, and they can be romance or anything you like. I just ask it not go into the x rating stuff if ya catch my drift. But, my Tumblr name is Elillierose as well, so you can message me there if you have any requests, or you van just wait until I have the first chapter out in that series to comment. But yeah, thanks so much. 3