i read a few of the accepted applications, and i figure that's what you meant, so heree we go !!
Basil sighed, as he opened the door of the old, worn-down inn. He had hoped for somewhere a bit more... Sanitary, to put up his feet for a couple days, But a place to sleep is indeed, a place to sleep. He pulled a few coins from his pouch, and placed them on the desk in front of him, Where a kind-faced, old man smiled expectantly.
"Just.. Two nights, please." He said anxiously. He avoided eye contact with the man, instead looking down at the worn, wooden floor.
The old man counted the change, and nodded. He turned around to a small box of room keys, fumbling around. Once he grabbed the right key, He turned around and handed it to the Caparii, giving a warm smile. "Third floor, Second door on your right, I hope you enjoy your stay!"
Basil nodded in thanks, and began to head up the stairs. He looked at his surroundings, There were cobwebs in the corners of the ceilings, and the stairs were creaky, and weathered. He found his room, turned the key, and walked in, closing the door behind him. Almost immediately, he noticed the overwhelming smell of feces, coming from the open window. He gagged slightly, fanning the stench out the window, and shutting it. After the smell had decreased, he yawned, stretching his torso. He looked around the room, His eyes fixating on a small cot in the corner. His body ached, as he had gotten in a bit of a scuffle earlier that day, leaving him drained of almost all of his money, the reason he had to stay in this particular inn. He rubbed his eyes, plopping down onto the bed. It was softer than he expected. He stretched out, getting comfortable. He wrapped his torso up into his cloak, as the air around him was slightly frigid, and the inn did not supply blankets. He closed his eyes, And eventually drifted off to sleep.
He ran, and ran, and ran, for what seemed like forever, A small house in the distance-- The house of his childhood. He ran, and ran, and yet never seemed to get any closer. As he ran, he saw a giant, white fire begin to surround the cottage, lighting up the night. He was getting desperate, He ran as fast as he could, But he could never get any closer. He heard the sound of a window being shattered. He heard the roar of flames inching closer and closer to his home. He screamed with all the force he could muster, and yet no sound came out. He could have sworn he had seen a dark figure in the night.. Breaking into the home. His running and pleading continued for what seemed like ages, Until he finally could get closer. He burst down the door, Coughing from the smoke and soot in the air. He saw his mother, grasping someone in her arms, tears streaming down his face-- His father. He saw the blood, as it gushed out of many.. many wounds. He watched as a small toddler came running into the room, wondering why his father wouldn't wake up. Basil couldn't move, he couldn't speak. He was forced to stand and watch the tragedy of his past. He saw the white flames consuming the world around him, Coming closer with every second. And then the flames engulfed him.
He jolted awake, panting. Cold sweat trickled down his skin, and hot tears rolled down his face. Another nightmare-- He had seen this one several times in the past. The scene of his father's death. He seemed to remember every single detail. He remembered the look on his mother's face. He remembered the dim light of the flickering candles. He remembered how confused he was, Seeing his father's lifeless body. He remembered what his mother had told him that night.
"Mom, why won't Dad wake up?"
"A terrible, terrible man has taken your father from us, Basil. He has taken your father's life, and left our family in grief."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Thats probably 400 words .. I hope thats what you meant. Does it still count as violence if it was a nightmare my character had?
