Warnings: None really
Spoilers: Very vague spoiler for Season 3
Word Count: 256
Disclaimer: Not mine. This is for pleasure not money
Summary: Sometimes something reminds us of past horrors
A/N: Truth is I've been struggling lately. At least I've posted something
Challenge #19 Confined spaces
Daylight wasn’t the problem. Okay, it wasn’t without its discomforts since the plastic wrapped around the damned box trapped the heat of the blazing Panamanian sun, drenching Michael with sweat and accelerating dehydration. But sunlight kept the demons away.
Unlike the moonlight, even if the satellite was reduced to the smallest of waning crescents so the illumination it cast over Sona was negligible.
Darkness and heat, the two conditions guaranteed to drag an unwilling Michael back to those days on Pershing Avenue.
In the delirium of heat exhaustion, he could once again feel the hard, rough concrete under him, scraping his bare legs and making it almost impossible for him to sleep away the hours he knew he would be locked in, alone and afraid of the darkness where the monsters lurked.
Even though, in his fevered child’s mind, he associated monsters with the dark, he knew well enough that they existed in the daylight too. They weren’t as scary but paradoxically they were more dangerous. His split lip and bruised body testified to that.
The box in the compound of Sona, as night fell, made Michael that little boy again and as he tried to settle his tall frame on the sandy floor of the tight prison to try to sleep away the dark hours, he was once again haunted by dreams of monsters.
And as in that house on Pershing Avenue there was no Lincoln to tell him they didn’t exist. Not that it would have made a difference, of course.
Michael knew they did.