Jason managed to peel his now bleeding pathetically aged looking form off the bed and started cowering on the floor. It was too much, far too much. It wasn't a dream at all. It was real. It was all real. So much hatred, so much violence, so much shame. He was violent, horrible, maybe...he deserved this? Maybe this was his price for being such a creepy old man, for not following society and their ideas of what was right. Maybe all his strange ways weren't such a good thing after all? A soft and gentle hand reached out and patted him on the head, and he looked up, full into the face of Lilly, that same crazed and vicious smirk playing across her lips. He stood up to go, turning around her to avoid her touch, and walked backwards towards the door, not seeing anyone else. He was aware that Gibs was in the corner killing himself, but everything else was a blur. That's when he tripped.
She had always warned him about that damn coffee table, and now it would be the death of him. Lilly shifted, her form changing from the fearsome girl to the violent woman he called his wife. She advanced upon him, bloody dagger in hand. He screamed again as all of his attention was averted to getting away from her while a part of him, a very small part of him wanted to stay and let her kill him.
Meanwhile, the illusioned form of Kyle had disappeared, and all it's fragmented scraps along the wall with it. The blood stains had vanished as well and all that was left was the smears from Jason himself. The sensation of shock lingered in the room before Heather called out. "He's stuck in it. He still thinks he's dreaming!" She was in the doorway completely now, unsure of how to progress, and somewhat afraid of what she would see if she got involved. She had however, been around Jason in a fit enough times to know that whenever her sister showed up it was the illusions taking control of the man and not the other way around. "You have to wake him up! Make him realize he's doing it."