Y/n had a nightmare last night. She always does when the moon is full and the shadows dance on her ceiling. It's like clockwork, every time she closes her eyes, the monsters come out to play in her dreams.
I can hear her painting in the other room now. The scratch of brush against canvas echoes through the walls like a ghostly whisper. Skidmark is there too, adding his own twisted touch to Y/n's creation.
"Add more blood here," he says with an unsettling glee that sends shivers down my slimy spine.
I tried to make Turbo leave earlier. I didn't want him to see what Y/n was creating this time. It's always something dark and twisted, born from the depths of her subconscious mind.
But as much as I try to avoid it, I can't help but feel drawn towards it all. Maybe it's morbid curiosity or maybe it's just my snail nature – slow-moving but relentless in its pursuit of knowledge.
Y/n is a talented artist, there's no denying that. Her paintings are hauntingly beautiful in their own way – filled with darkness and despair yet somehow mesmerizing at the same time.
She paints like she breathes – effortlessly and without hesitation. Each stroke of color on canvas tells a story that words could never capture fully.
And yet, behind those piercing blue eyes lies a world of pain and fear that few will ever truly understand... except maybe for Skidmark who seems all too eager to delve into those depths alongside her.
As much as I may joke about being fast like a shadow or yell my name as if it were some battle cry, deep down inside me lies a heart filled with empathy for Y/n and everything she goes through every single night when sleep claims her fragile form once again.
It breaks my heart seeing someone so young bear such heavy burdens on their shoulders alone - haunted by demons both real and imagined while trying desperately not to let them consume her whole...
But what can I do? What can any of us really do except stand by each other’s side in times of need?
So here we are once again - another night spent watching over Y/n from afar as she pours herself into paintbrushes insteadof tears; hoping against hope that someday soon these nightmares will fade away into nothingness leaving only lightness behind where darkness once reigned supreme..