Spitfire - Nightmares | (2022)

A distorted reflection looked back at him. It wasn't his face, but a skeletal version of his own regrets, wearing a grin made of jagged silver. The air smelled of ozone and scorched earth. Suddenly, the walls began to vibrate. A high-pitched wail, like a dive-bombing guitar solo, tore through the silence.

The neon lights of the city didn’t offer warmth; they only cast long, jagged shadows that felt like reaching fingers. Elias sat at the edge of his bed, his knuckles white as he gripped the frame. The clock on the wall had stopped at midnight, but the pulsing rhythm in his chest—fast, relentless, like a double-bass drum—told him the night was just beginning. Spitfire - Nightmares (2022)

The creature was gaining. Elias felt the heat of its breath on his neck. He realized then that he couldn’t keep running. In the logic of this dream, speed was the only currency. He turned, not with fear, but with a sudden, jagged surge of defiance. A distorted reflection looked back at him

He closed his eyes, and the transition was instant. He wasn't in his room anymore. He was standing in a corridor of mirrors that stretched into an infinite, oily void. This was the "Nightmare" he couldn't outrun. Suddenly, the walls began to vibrate