[Cursed Child] Nightmares (Patreon)

content: gender neutral reader, horror-fluff, motherly duties calling

You've never struggled much with sleep paralysis and its terrors, yet if you were to imagine such a demon, it would probably look like her. Across your dark room, hanging from the corner of the ceiling, stands the Hotel's little vampire guest. Her many eyes are directed towards your bed, and you can discern small, dark tendrils spreading out across the wall.

"What are you doing in my room?"

"I had a nightmare."

Funny, you could say the same. Waking up to a small, monstrous creature curled up against your ceiling wasn't exactly the most pleasant experience. You nearly swallowed up your own tongue in the initial fright, up until you began to recognize the arcane whispers echoing from her amorphous, yet well polished form.

"Can you tuck me into bed," she croaks deeply.

You stand up and search for the slippers while she lowers herself into a less blasphemous stance. The child is wearing a frilly, white gown, the kind you'd see in post-mortem Victorian photographs. My family loved taking those, she once told you. In fact, among the undead siblings, she'd always been the best at pretending to be lifeless. My brother doesn't count, she added fervently, referring to Vampire Noble. Having your features hidden is cheating, you see. There's an art in emptying your eyes of any glimmer and vitality.

You hold onto her blackened claws as she guides you back to the hotel, occasionally breaking into a skipping step. You can tell she's rather gleeful about you joining her.

"Isn't your room the other way," you inquire once she begins descending some stairs you don't recognize.

"Those are our day rooms, the ones you clean. The underground levels are for experienced staff, I'd imagine."

Curious. Has your manager ever mentioned anything about the existence of an underground? Now that you think about it, your briefing did include plenty of areas that were off-limits for you, due to your human nature. Some monsters, the centaur argued at the time, are a little more difficult to handle. You needn't worry about those.

Wouldn't this imply that whatever is down there is dangerous for you?

The long, slender fingers tighten around your hand reassuringly. It seems the child has sensed your fear.

"Don't worry, there's nothing here I couldn't destroy. I won't, of course, I don't want to get grounded again, but if I must...anyways, my crypt is just around the corner."

Somehow, it doesn't surprise you in the slightest that the little girl sleeps in what resembles a mausoleum. The walls are tall and cold, made of large stone bricks that have been chipped by time. In the middle of the gloomy resting tomb there's a small coffin, cushioned elegantly on the inside and containing a couple of colorful pillows.

You drag the fluffy blanket over the cursed child and pat her head.

"The humans with the pitchforks won't get to you. I'll beat them up," you declare bravely. "You can go to sleep."

Her many eyes begin to vanish one by one, and soon you can hear soft snores coming from the bundle. Well, what now? You’ve no idea how to return to return to your employee wing, and there doesn’t seem to be a convenient mattress anywhere in the vicinity. You eye a pile of straw in the distance and consider just laying on it, until you realize it’s the blood-soaking rug of an execution stump. Perhaps not.

You feel a hand cupping your shoulder and almost jolt out of your skin, when you realize it’s the other sibling tormenting you with unannounced arrivals: the Vampire Noble. He extends a piece of paper towards you, and you squint your eyes to read it in the darkness: Would you like to share a bed for the night?

A quick nod, and you tiptoe your way out and after the ghoulish guest. By the way, he gestures with his bandaged hands, was she once again dreaming of pitchforks and pyres?