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I've had an interest in dreams for a very long time, probably because I always have so many memorable ones, and I've always wanted to keep some sort of record. A lot of times I wake and think, "That was so awesome! I've got to tell somebody!" and then it just kind of stagnates in my brain. To alleviate that I started writing a dream journal a few years ago and even though I haven't kept up with it as much as I should have there is some pretty good stuff in there. Stuff that needs to be said and, well, I did say it but now I realize that just "saying" it wasn't good enough. That wasn't "telling" it. So now I've decided that I'm not going to just keep a dream journal. I'm going to write dream stories. 

What follows will be a collection of the contents of my sub-conscious in story form. I'll be writing dreams both old and new. Keep in mind though that dreams are by their nature ethereal, fickle, and volatile. Even though I will be making small adjustments to aid in the writing process and adding some embellishments to gloss over the really large holes, they will still be dreams and quite frankly won't make much sense some of the time. I will do my best to make them cohesive and enjoyable.

As an additional note, sometimes they may be disturbing, gross, or otherwise offensive. Please try to remember these are for the most part the workings of an unconscious mind and shouldn't be taken at face value.

I'll start the show with a dream I had just one day ago...


Family Matters



I woke up in a familiar bed from my past, the bed of my childhood. I untangled myself from the sheets and sat up to watch some television. After rooting around for the remote for a few minutes I remembered I never had one and the television turns on. I was watching the fellows over at Corridor Digital build a guillotine in their office when suddenly I heard a scratching on my door, high pitched like someone raking nails across it. I paused. From the room across the hall I could hear my sister Jenny scream, "I know what you're doing in there!" I shook my head and continued to watch my shows. 

It was clear to me she thought something untoward had been going on in here but I didn't have the energy to correct her. A few more minutes passed and I heard a scratching sound again, this time running across the glass of my bedroom window. I turned the volume up on the television and then once more, from across the hall, I heard Jenny scream, "That's really nasty! I'm going to tell mom!"

I could feel indignant rage boiling up inside me. I knew what she thought I was doing and I wasn't doing it. I didn't know what her problem was but it was starting to get under my skin. I grab a game controller and boot up Sonic Adventure to take my mind off of it. I was finally starting to get over the irritation when suddenly my door was being pounded on hard enough to rattle the frame and I hear Jenny's voice coming through like she has her mouth pressed right against the door, "You're fucking disgusting and I'm telling mom!"

I'd had it. The rage came back in full force and boiled over. I jumped to my feet and ripped the door off its hinges leaving Jenny leaning against air with an "oh" of surprise plastered across her face. I snatched her up by the throat and started squeezing. Immediately my world was blown apart by an ear shattering screech. It was the scratching sound again magnified a thousand fold. I winced as the sound pierced my eardrums and grit my teeth as it only increased in intensity. It wasn't stopping.

Suddenly, I realized that the sound was emanating from a dried up corpse dangling from my fist. I squeezed my fingers around its throat to try to make the sound stop but it only became louder. I ran outside, dragging the corpse along, still squeezing. I was met with the fiery red skies pf the apocalypse. I had forgotten the world had ended some time ago. I saw a flicker of movement out of the corner of my eye and a massive wildcat strode into view. I glanced down at the shrieking corpse in my hand and with a pleading look at the cat I requested, "Do you think you can take care of this for me?"

I tossed the corpse on the ground and the cat pounced on it, gripping the leathery skull in its massive jaws. With a crack! the skull imploded and silence washed over me. I stood there, staring at the empty horizon and feeling mildly sick from the sounds of the cat's chewing, when I remembered that I was late for a dinner.

I sat down at a very long table covered in a pristine white table cloth. Seated all around me were folks I didn't recognize but whom I was dimly aware were distant relatives. We were all talking amongst ourselves, trying to catch up on the family lives we had missed, when a tinny scratching sound like chalk on a chalkboard rent the air. Everyone at the table looked up towards an ornately carved wooden tree hovering in the air behind us inscribed with the word "Mother". As the sound of chalk writing continued, names began to appear around the tree and decorative swirls branched out to embrace them. A figure began to come into focus beneath it. She was inhumanly tall with pale skin the color of a fish's stomach, a long thin neck that supported a head obscured by a flowing veil, delicate spidery fingers that rested on the arms of a massive throne woven of branches. As she materialized, a wave of calm rolled over the table as we all felt the warm presence of mother. She smiled and we felt the smile from behind the veil. All would be well.

Then the sky darkened and several feet to the right of the floating tree a black wound opened up in the air and spewed forth a series of black roots. They writhed and tangled and came together to form a twisted tree of their own. The chalk sound began anew only this time it was a nerve-abrading screech. The sound was accompanied by the appearance of letters being written into the black flesh of the tree. 

P-A-P-

All eyes turned towards mother as she moaned in terror, "Papa!" The word repeated across the table in an endless whisper. Papa was coming! A hand shot out of the nothingness behind the tree and grasped it. A great monster of a man dragged himself from the aether and tumbled onto the ground. Like a pustule erupting he stood to his full height. He was easily twelve feet tall, dressed in a rotted black suit, atop of which was a white lump of flesh reminiscent of a smashed melon. The flesh cracked into a drooling smile and began to lecture the table on the importance of family.

I had pissed myself. I tried to ignore the voice of PaPa as I ate my dinner, hoping nobody would notice.


Condoms & Kumquats


A boy and his mother are running through the ruins of a parking garage. Their rasping breaths echo off the cracked and crumbling ceiling. A tremor shakes the building and their panicked eyes search for signs of collapse. The mother pulls on the boys arm and they run faster. They must hurry. It is close behind.

The building shakes violently and the boy tumbles to the ground. The mother stumbles to a halt and turns to help him. She freezes in place. The boy can hear a sound behind him, the sound of some massive bulk dragging itself towards him. The mother's eyes lock onto the boy's and she slowly reaches her hand forward. A great moaning howl rips into them, knocking the mother off her feet. The boy curls into a ball as the great bellowing raises in volume, fetid wind rushing past him. He squeezes his eyes shut and claps his hands over his ears but the sound chews its way through skin and bones. Just when he felt like his eardrums would surely burst he heard another sound, a distant crack. He opened his eyes and saw fissures branching out in the floor around him. He raises his head up to see his mother struggling to reach him, resisting the gale with all her might. He wants to reach out to her but he can't. His body doesn't want to move. His vision blurs as tears begin to form and then suddenly he is falling. The world recedes into a shrinking puddle of light as he falls through darkness.

With a thud that tears the wind from his chest he hits the ground. He rolls onto his side, gasping for air as lights dance across his vision. After a few minutes he realizes the lights are not just a trick of the eye. He is in a cave filled with luminous flowering vines crisscrossing their way across brilliantly colored gemstones embedded in the rock. The only sound is the slow drip of water trickling into a pool behind him. He looks up at the ceiling and sees solid rock all the way across. The hole he fell through seems to be no more. He misses her already.

Dusting himself off he makes his way down a tunnel which forms the only exit from the cave. As the tunnel gradually leads upward he starts to hear the sound of a roaring crowd in the distance. He breaks into a run. He can smell the open air! After a few moments he sees a patch of sunlight ahead of him and rushes toward it. He launches himself through the opening and is almost spun off his feet as a mob of greyhounds blow past him at breakneck speeds. Squinting around him he sees that he is standing in the middle of a racetrack, stadium seats filled with all manner of folk shouting and waving their arms wildly. Suddenly the crowd quiets down and they're all looking at him. From somewhere above the stadium a dais comes floating through the air and comes to a halt, hovering over the ground in front of him. Seated on a glimmering golden throne is a great beast of a man, shirtless and covered in tufts of curly-cued golden blonde hairs. Atop his mane of luxurious, shimmering locks sits a tiny golden crown with a single ruby embedded in its face.

With a grunt the king leaps from the dais and lands before the boy. He grins and raises the boy to sit atop his shoulders. The crowd cheers and applauds. In a booming voice that fills the stadium he announces that, as it is the boy's tenth birthday, he must fulfill a quest to prove his manhood. He decrees that the quest will be to journey forth and shatter the Golden Shield and also obtain the Mystic Kumquat. Only by accomplishing these two task will the boy truly become a man. He then raises the boy in one massive hand and launches him into the air like a rocket. The boy flies farther and faster than he's ever gone, the land a blurry smear of color beneath him. After several minutes he drifts lightly to the ground and comes to rest in front of a tree stump. On this tree stump is the Golden Shield and resting atop this shield is a hammer several times larger than the boy.

With a strange feeling of certainty the boy grips the handle of the hammer in both hands and effortlessly lifts it into the air. Grinning from ear to ear he gives the hammer a few test swings and laughs aloud at the -whoosh!- the hammer makes as it pummels the air. With a sly glance at the Golden Shield he raises the hammer high into the air and brings it down with all his strength. The impact blasts the shield apart into sparkling fragments of dust. The tree stump and the ground beneath it burst apart and a great chasm opens as the earth crumbles away at the point of impact. A great moaning howl tears through the air as the boy is thrown backwards by the shockwave. His tiny body hurtles through the air of an aged and flaking parking garage. He feels the brush of his mother's fingertips as he flies by her. He sees the look of anguish on her face as he once more plummets into a gaping hole.

The boy wakes to find himself in a cave filled with dimly glowing weeds, lusterless gems barely visible along the walls. The boy wends his way through a tunnel in the back of the cave and, after a short while, finds himself emerging into what appears to be a dog track. The races have ended for the day and the remainder of the crowds are ambling back to their homes. The boy looks around and sees a track attendant standing nearby grimacing with agitation at a yellow notepad in his hand. He waves the boy over and asks him if he succeeded in his quest. The boy explains that he shattered the Golden Shield but he never did obtain the Mystic Kumquat.

The attendant's jaw drops. "Not kumquat you idiot! Condoms! You were to bring the king..." He peeks down at the list. "Eight boxes of condoms! Look! It's written right here!" He rips off a page from the notepad and hand it to the boy with a scowl. With trembling hands the boy takes a look at the paper. The list contains a variety of fruits and vegetables which have all been crossed out and there, sure enough, in the middle of the list was the eight boxes of condoms. The boy couldn't help but notice there were no kumquats on the list. The attendant crosses his arms and begins tapping his foot, indicating that the boy should get a move on.

Shoulders slumping in shame the boy wanders out of the stadium and into the desert. After several hours he reaches a convenience store and parked in front of it are his friends. They're a bunch of rough and tumble 12-year-olds with Schwinn bicycles and leather jackets. The boy and his friends enter the store, much to the displeasure of the clerk, and begin to browse around. The boy knows what he needs to find. He must obtain the condoms. As he wanders the seemingly endless shelves he notices his friends are shoving random items into their jackets. Nervously, he glances over at the clerk. The clerk is staring daggers at his friends but doesn't seem inclined to do anything about it.

The boy runs into a rotating rack at the end of an aisle and sends it crashing to the floor. Condoms spray every which way across the floor. The boy shouts in jubilation. These are what he needs! He bundles them all close to his chest and proudly dumps them on the counter for the clerk to scan. After chewing his lip for a moment the clerk looks down at the boy and says, "You're not old enough to buy these son."

"Oh."


The Thug Wolf Cometh


As a young boy of twelve I was once sitting on my living room couch, enjoying some quality time with my old pal the television, when from directly behind me I heard a snuffling noise. Now this was odd to me since directly behind me was the large window that overlooked our front yard. I whipped my head around to see what could possibly have made such a sound behind me. There sat the largest wolf I had ever seen. He wore a navy blue baseball cap turned sideways, a basketball jersey, and his neck was bedecked with gold chains of various sizes. He was only inches away from me, staring directly into my eyes. It was around this time I noticed our window had no glass. That seemed odd.

I tilted my head slightly back and hollered, "Daaaaaaaaaad!" not breaking eye contact with the wolf. He simply continued to stare at me, tongue lolling out of his mouth in a lopsided grin. My dad comes running into the room wild-eyed and wearing Buzz Lightyear pajamas. Upon seeing the wolf, he immediately rushes over and starts conversing in what I can only assume is the wolf language. I couldn't understand what they were saying but it sure sounded a lot like English to me. 

The wolf raised its snout and yipped once in the affirmative. A look of determination came over my dad and he responded, "I understand." He stood up in a full paramedic uniform, swung open our front door, and stood for a moment bathed in sunlight before running down the street as fast as he could.

I turned my attention back to the wolf, which now had its head resting on the back of our couch, gazing at me with thoughtful eyes. After a moment it cocked its head at me and said, "What are you watching?"

I understood that! It turns out wolf language was a lot like English. I responded, "Power Rangers. I like Kimberly."

The wolf snuffed in derision. "Girls are lame. I want to see a really cool fight scene."

I had something I was certain would impress him. I ran over to a stack of DVD cases and pulled "The Matrix" from its place in the pile. I popped it into our DVD player and ran back to sit on the couch. With a smug grin on my face I pointed the remote at the screen and skipped through to the final fight scene. There was Neo in all his edgy glory fighting alongside Thor and Captain America in what could only be described as the most epic fight scene of all time. I turn to the wolf to see his response.

"Oh cool! The Avengers are in this one!"

I nod my head sharply in satisfaction and together we watch the rest of the movie.


The Ancestral Home of the Giants



There is a boy standing alone in a field of brilliant green. The wind whispers in the grass around him and tickles his shins before rushing off towards the mountains on the horizon. He takes a moment to admire the cloudless sky, breathe in air so crisp it feels brand new, and feel the sun warm his skin. It is in this state of complete tranquility that he hears a booming voice from high above him.

"Are you ready, friend?" 

The boy cranes his neck and gazes up at a face far above him. It is a friendly face full of all the lines and deep crevasses of a life well lived and well loved. It is a face full of ancient wisdom, eyes that sparkle with secrets that have never been told, and a smile that could warm you on a cold night. It is also the face of a giant, one who does not wait for an answer but turns and walks towards the mountains in the distance. He chuckles to himself imagining the boy running to keep pace. His strides would easily match a hundred of this child's. He stopped and turned to let the boy catch up but frowned when he saw that the child had vanished.

"I'm not...as slow...as you might think!" the boy shouted from ahead of the giant while gasping for air. In shock the giant turned back towards the mountains in time to see the boy ahead of him running faster than he imagined possible. The boy's legs were almost a blur and the sweat poured off of him in rivulets. For the first time in his life he found himself running to catch up with a human boy.

This reeks of destiny. He had been sent to find this boy by a council of his elders and instructed to bring him to the ancestral home of the giants. He did not know who the boy was or what his purpose would be but he knew the boy must be very special. It had been many ages since an outsider had been allowed entry into the great fortress they called home. Although it was not for lack of trying. Many had attempted to penetrate it's defenses to discover the secrets within but none had ever survived to make another.

The boy turns and calls out just as the giant matches pace with him, "It took...you...long enough!" The boy grins but his face is quickly turning from a deep shade of red to a sickening purple and he is puffing like a bellows.

The giant laughs a great booming laugh, "Maybe not destiny little one. Maybe just pure stubbornness!" which earns him a quizzical look. It is not long before the two reach the mountains and with the giant's help they reach the top in no time at all. The boy stands at the top and gazes down upon a great basin so deep that it's bottom cannot be seen and completely hemmed in by the mountain range on all sides. However, it is what stands in the middle of this great basin which garners his attention. Set deep in the center is a mountain fortress like nothing he has ever seen. On the west face swirl rivers of molten rock, embers fly through the air like dancers, and great tongues of flame flick across the surface like hungry animals. On the east face a ferocious storm savagely tears across the mountainside kicking up clouds of dust and obscuring the face completely. Directly in front of them is the south face which does not appear spectacular to him in any way. It has all the appearance of a simple mountainside but he can't help feeling there is an air of menace emanating from within.

The boy isn't sure why he had ended up at this moment. For his entire life he had been just a little bit different. He had never really wanted to be anything special. He just did what came naturally to him and for some reason things always ended up okay. He would get a little tingle in his spine sometimes and an urge to do something and he knew that if he followed that urge nothing could go wrong. It didn't seem to matter how perilous the adventure, he always came out on top and usually had a lot of fun doing it. Now he is standing at the top of a mountain and staring at another mountain that seemed designed to kill him and yet he feels like he is in exactly the right place.

The giant rumbles, "Climb onto my shoulder and I will take you to the Eastern Gate. That is the only entrance I can approach with you safely."

The boy doesn't listen though. He's feeling a familiar tingling. "Why not use the Southern Gate? It seems safe enough."

The giant gives the boy a grave look and solemnly intones, "Giants are born from the earth and return to the earth when we die. For us the use of the Southern Gate is symbolic of these things and as such is only used in the most sacred of ceremonies. It would mean death for us both to enter from the south without permission."

This all comes to the boy in a haze. He needs to go through the Southern Gate. He doesn't know why but he knows that he does. Before the giant can react he leaps down into the darkness below leaving the giant yelling in anguish. He falls for what seems like an eternity before slamming into the ground. As the dust clears the boy catches sight of his objective for the first time. A massive stone door is set into the mountain, a door so insurmountably large he feels that given a thousand years he could not budge it even a single inch. All across its surface are etched the most fantastic designs and curious figures and some of them look slightly familiar. The boy places his hands on the door and gives it an experimental shove.

He senses danger immediately and just barely escapes being crushed to death by what appears to be a gargantuan stone finger. An eerie grating sound reaches his ears as he sees a seemingly endless amount of gigantic stone arms emerging from either side of the door. He doesn't think. He simply follows his instincts. There is a tremendous crash and the ground splits behind him as he rushes towards the door. A flurry of hands and fingers fly towards him as he climbs the door to escape their blows. As he climbs he hears a curious whirring sound under the cacophony of stone on stone and he turns to see a strange glass eye staring at him. Instinctively he reaches out and yanks the eye from its socket. Suddenly a hand slaps the door inches from his shoulder and flings him into space with the eye in his hands. The eye trails a network of brightly colored veins behind it that catch him mid-fall and swing him across the doorway at incredible speeds.

As he rushes forward there is a deafening staccato of impacts as the stone hands attempt to crush him but every one is just a fraction of a second too late. He reaches the end of his swing and let's out a whoop of joy. He's never had so much fun! The feeling only lasts a moment though as the veins snap and send the boy crashing to earth. He looks up to the sky in a daze and sees all the arms of the mountain raise one final time to crush the life out of him. He hears the hurricane of sound that follows each one as it slices through the air. He closes his eyes and smiles. 

"STOP!!!"

A voice seems to emanate from the mountain itself. The boy opens his eyes to see the gritty palm of a hand much larger than himself inches from his face. There is a rumbling deep in the mountain and a brilliant light bursts forth as the massive doors swing open. A figure emerges from the opening and the boy is surprised to see that it isn't a giant that emerges but an old man.

"What in the world is all this commotion!?" The old man hobbles over to the boy, all the while gesticulating wildly. "Shoo! Go away you great lummoxy things! Begone!" The hands hesitate for a moment and then recede back into the walls of the mountain. The old man shuffles to a stop and stands over the boy glaring. "Well? Care to explain why you're out here making a ruckus and ripping my cameras out of the walls?"

The boy could do nothing but stare. The tingling in his spine had dissipated and he felt more confused and lost in this moment than he had ever felt in his life.

The old man sighs and pulls the boy off the ground, "I suppose you'd better come in. I imagine you're part of some 'greater destiny' or some such and I would be 'struck dead by the gods should I refuse you aid.'" He chuckles to himself as he pulls the boy along. "Well, here we are. Ancestral home of the giants and all that. Waystation of heroes everywhere. Wipe your feet before you come in." Then the doors shut behind them.


"It Looks Good On You Bro!"


I had just had an exhausting day of work and I was ready to collapse into a luxurious state of unconsciousness. Nothing could stop me from getting to that bed. It called to me with its siren song the moment I walked in the front door. After the first note of that lovely melody I became a slow-motion whirlwind leaving a trail of discarded garments behind me.

The door to my room was closed and for a moment I contemplated the odds of me successfully walking through it and arrived at the conclusion that it would be both painful and unsuccessful. Begrudgingly I put forth the effort to raise my hand and turn the knob, all the while cursing myself for not having planned for this. As I crossed the threshold into my domain the sweet somnolent song of slumber slithered from the sheets and into my ears. I found a hidden reserve of energy and ran for the bed, intending to fling myself into her embrace but stopped short when I realized my bed was already occupied.

I looked down and frowned at this foul intruder. Sitting primly on my pillow was a giant toad who did not seem at all interested in the finer points of sleeping and instead seemed to be studying a spot on the ceiling. I was feeling forgiving so I politely requested that the toad remove himself from my pillow. He continued to stare at the ceiling and I began to suspect he may be hard of hearing. As gently as I could I moved him from the pillow to the edge of the bed so I could sleep without being disturbed. I noticed after I put him down that he seemed to have found another spot on the ceiling and was staring at this new spot just as intently. This piqued my curiosity for the briefest of moments but my current business could not be halted.

I leapt into the bed (careful of my amphibious friend) and snuggled deep into the blankets to begin my hibernation. Just as my mind was being soaked in the warm bubble-bath of sleep I became aware of a peculiar sensation in my feet. It felt as though something was crawling across them. I immediately thought of my toad friend but the movements were too agile to be a toad. I wondered if my bed had played host to more than one guest and I had overlooked it. Whatever it was, it was crawling rapidly up my calves and across my thighs, finally coming to rest on my chest where it sat purring.

Realizing I had not opened my eyes throughout the entirety of this event I decided it might be prudent to take a look. Much to my surprise there sat on my chest the tiniest of kittens, a miniscule grey tabby with piercing blue eyes. The kitten looked into my eyes and whispered, "Relax, dude."

He then began to knead and mush his little paws against my chest and it was so relaxing I began to drift off again. I was hypnotized by the rhythm of the paws and was only vaguely aware when they started moving up my neck and onto my face. It felt a bit unusual at first, there were these tiny little needling sensations in my chin that hurt in a distant sort of way. My mind was too close to the edge of sleep to care. Then suddenly the kneading and the purring stopped. The change in atmosphere was enough to jolt me from my drowzing.

My chin felt strange and a little sore and the kitten was staring at me with wide-eyed expectation. I reached my fingers up to my chin and felt a tuft of hair where none had been before. I tugged on it gently and a bit of it came off in my hand. It looked like a ball of old fur and dryer lint.

"What the hell did you do!? Did you sew this shit to my face!?"

The kitten smiled and began purring again, "Yeah, man. That's a soul patch. Pretty rockin' right?" He beamed with intense pleasure and a palpable sense of accomplishment. 

My need to sleep was replaced with confusion, indignation, and just a dash of anger. I could feel it bubbling up inside me and the kitten's smug expression was not helping. 

"You made me look like a jack-ass!"

The kitten grinned so wide its eyes were nearly eclipsed by its cheeks. "Nooooooo, no. Trust me. It looks good on you bro!"


The Parsnip Event


I think my protege is shaping up to be an unstoppable killing machine. This is perfect, just the way I wanted him. We'd been stopping on the side of the road every night and ripping people off the streets and murdering them in every way you can imagine. They got a chance though. They always got a chance. It wouldn't be training if it wasn't hard. Glenn has to learn to kill them when they're fighting back and he has been absolutely marvelous at it, a better killer than even me perhaps?

We'd been having an incredibly productive week so far so I thought it'd be nice to take a little break, pretend to be normal people for awhile. We ran a little delivery business from home when we weren't out being serial killers. It's a simple job. We drive a van from place to place doing small time deliveries. It's also a perfect cover if we get antsy and want to grab someone for a little fun.

We were scheduled to make a drop-off for a little Filipino lady that we'd make grocery runs for a few times a month and things were going well until her daughter showed up. I didn't even know she had a daughter to be honest. I guess Glenn didn't either because when she tapped him on his shoulder he turned around and stabbed her in the heart. It was a nice clean thrust. She went out like a candle. Initially, I was angry. We were too public. Anybody could have seen us! I couldn't be too mad though. I mean, she did walk up behind him. You don't just sneak up on a guy, y'know? Bad things can happen. I shook my head at the crazy bastard and grabbed the girls feet so we could throw her in the van.

We'd forgotten about the mother though. She came running out of the house screaming at us. She started beating Glenn's chest with her tiny little fists. I dropped the girl to see how he would handle it. This was his kill so it was his call. Glenn walked over to the van, all the while with the lady screaming and pummeling him. He grabs her groceries and shoves them into her arms and she pauses in shock, not sure what to do. Then he gestures for us to leave and we do, well, after I shove the girl into the van of course. Wouldn't be right to just leave her there. Yep, Glenn is shaping up quite nicely. Best one yet.

_______________

Glenn is a small boy standing in a stream with his friend. The water barely comes up to their ankles but it runs swiftly. The paradise they live in, just the two of them, is beautiful beyond comprehension. The friend grabs Glenn's hand and drags him to the end of the stream, a massive waterfall pouring thousands upon thousand of gallons of water over the edge with every passing moment. Yet, they stand in their tiny stream with the forces at work right beneath them seeming to be a distant dream. The friend looks into Glenn's eyes and dares him to jump and Glenn doesn't hesitate. He leaps straight off the edge.

He falls for a long time, for thousands of feet. Below him swirls a whirlpool so colossal that even from the such great heights he cannot see the whole of it. Deep in its center is a ball of orange light burning furiously and lighting the rushing tides of water with a brilliant glow. Glenn strikes the water and vanishes into nothingness.


"...and then Glenn struck the water and vanished into nothingness." All of the other children are looking at me expectantly. We were all gathered in my parents' living room for a slumber party. It had been a blast so far and everybody was telling the most wonderful stories. Right now it was my turn and I was telling everybody the story of a little boy, about our age, named Glenn.

_______________

Glenn opens his eyes and sits up slowly. Somehow he had ended up on a boat. He was pretty sure just a moment ago he'd been riding in a van after doing something...bad. The boat rocks a bit as he stands up and he suddenly hears a whisper in his ear.

"Welcome."

Glenn almost falls off the edge of the boat in panic and manages to scrabble to the front of it. Behind him there is a gorgeous woman with gigantic skeletal black wings casually paddling his boat downstream. She seems familiar to him somehow.

He braves a question, "Am I in Hell?"

She stares at him for what seems like an eternity before answering, "No, but you will be if you do not change."

"How am I supposed to change?"

"You must kill the one who created you. Only then can you begin to redeem yourself." And with that she shoves Glenn into the water. He tumbles around in the depths and can't seem to orient himself properly. Finally, when it seems that his lungs are about to burst he breaks the surface of the water.

The boy drags himself onto the shore, unsure of how he survived. In the distance across the lake he sees the whirlpool still swirling endlessly. His sister is running towards him and screaming, asking if he is okay. He collapses onto the ground and manages to shout, "It's okay! I just swam too close to The Parsnip Event!"


The House


We're in the kitchen. Twenty feet away from us is a door leading outside but I know we'll never make it. It feels like I've done this a thousand times before. I look over at my father struggling to survive against a house that's come alive. The sink's sprayer hose is wrapped around his throat, slowly crushing it. The pipes under the sink have wrapped themselves around his legs which are bent at all the wrong angles. My nephew is laying in the floor and I'm pretty sure he's dead. My mom is upstairs and that means she's gone. I've been in a lot of haunted houses but they always have the same upstairs, a short wood-paneled hallway with five doors. It doesn't matter which door you go through, upstairs is its own story. You don't get to come back. I make a run for the open door at the end of the kitchen and just as I'm about to make it something hits me from behind and the world goes to black.

It doesn't stay black for long as I find myself in the living room and I realize with despair that it's happening again. We're all trying to find a way out before the house kills us. I see my parents looking around in confusion and my nephew is crying. Without thinking I scoop up my nephew and make a break for the kitchen. I see the door outside standing open and I blast through it just as the house starts to come alive around me. I roll into the yard and turn around to see my parents still standing at the end of the kitchen with a look of shock on their faces.

"Come on!" I scream and they run towards me. I keep thinking to myself that they won't make it. Something is going to happen and they won't make it. Yet somehow they do. They run into the yard, into the bright sunshine, and we all laugh at what a close call we had.

Then my dad says, "Hold on, I forgot something," and he runs back into the house. Before I can utter a single word he is crossing the threshold, going back in. A bolt of terror runs through me that is quickly replaced by rage at his stupidity. What could possibly be so important that he would need to go back in!? The three of us wait for what seems like forever for him to come back out. We watch the interior, hoping against hope that any minute we're going to see him running back through the kitchen. Then suddenly we hear a sound from upstairs like wooden beams tearing themselves apart and the unmistakable sound of my dad screaming and I know we'll never see him again.


Mr. Sunshine


It all began with a familiar touch. My world was darkness except for the feel of your hand. I could feel every crevace and line of your palm and the coolness of your fingertips as they traced over my knuckles. Then suddenly we were traipsing along what appeared to be a children's carnival. Lights flashed across our eyes and strange tinny music floated through the air.

I felt completely lost but your hand guided me through a twisted landscape of teacups and rainbows. The sound of children laughing echoed everywhere but I hadn't seen a single child since we started walking. I couldn't seem to remember when we started walking or how long we'd been here either. I looked at your face and saw you grinning playfully as you squeezed my hand and urged me to continue on. Your smile didn't ever seem to reach your eyes though and I kept feeling this hidden sense of urgency in your movements.

"Jackie? Where are all the kids at?" You turned back to answer my question and your eyes widened as you looked over my shoulder. An unusual grinding, clattering sound emanated from behind me and I quickly turned to see.

I did't know what I had expected to find but I knew I didn't expect...this. It was a metal cut-out of a cartoon child with a round face and cheery smile, very much like the kind you might see on an elementary school safety diagram, trundling towards me via what appeared to be some hidden underground rail system. As it came to a halt before me with a screech I could feel your hand tightening once more.

"Welcome!"

I stood there frozen, waiting for it to say something else and then suddenly I realized that everything had gone silent. There was no more tinny music, no more flashing lights, nothing left but the sound of our breathing.

"Welcome!" 

Then suddenly from a long way away came the call of, "Welcome!" The air was filled with sound now, the clattering and grinding of metal as it's pushed through the sand and rocks and cropping up all around us, filling the air was the cry of, "Welcome!"

I nearly jumped out of my skin when I felt your lips brush against my ear. "Josh, we need to keep moving. We're almost out of here. Just smile and keep moving," you begged with pleading eyes but never for an instant did the smile leave your face. I frowned in confusion and felt a jab in my lower back as the child contraption pushed into my back.

"Welcome!"

I didn't wait around this time as suddenly you yanked me back into a brisk walk. The strange metal children were everywhere now, coming out of every alleyway and from behind every building chanting the same word repeatedly. You increased your pace unexpectedly and I tripped, your hand slipping from my grasp. The children quickly separated us and began to circle me. I was confused and angry over this whole charade and had lost my patience.

"Will you back the fuck off!" I yelled as I stood up fuming. I looked up to see the color drain from your face and your smile replaced with a look of pure terror. The world returned to silence as all the children stopped moving at once. I looked around and where there had once been cheery smiles there were now looks of horrified shock. Then with a metallic "ping!" the faces changed into white-eyed horrors. Their mouths warped into grotesque shapes and began to emit a terrifying alien sound, a high pitched white noise that felt like it would make my ears bleed. 

You ran between the children and grabbed my hand and we bolted. We ran as fast as we could and the children did not attempt to follow. They merely turned and watched us run as their screams followed us. We were within sight of what must have been the exit and running full tilt when suddenly everything went black.

We were surrounded by total darkness. I could still feel your hand and hear the sound of your ragged breathing in the dark. A light began to shine from what seemed a few hundred yards away. It looked like an ordinary street light just floating in the dark. Not long after the light turned on I began to hear cheerful humming coming from the same direction.

I heard you whispering in the dark, "Oh God, no. It's Mr. Sunshine." 

Then in an instant the darkness evaporated and we found ourselves in an empty city lot in the middle of the night. The streetlight was still there and I looked up just in time to see a figure walk under the light. In a sing-song voice the figure called out as it approached, "Joshuaaaaaa. It seems we have done something we oughtn't, hmmmmmmmm?"

Then suddenly he was there, right in front of me, dressed in a black pinstripe suit. His long fingered hands were concealed in white gloves as he adjusted a bright red tie around his neck.

"Now what do you think I ought to do with you? You're clearly not having any fun." 

I looked into his face and saw nothing but a grin full of sharp, angular teeth. There was no face, no ears, no eyes, nothing but a floating cartoon grin, red and white, and full of teeth. The kind of grin you might expect to see on a shark in some children's story.

He sighed dramatically and said, "Now Josh. You knew what would happen. You called me after all." He put his hand on my shoulder and I looked up into that big, bright smile one final time and then never saw anything again.


This is my subconscious (unconscious?) given form. It's a semi-regularly updated collection of stories from my sleeping mind.
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:iconphnks:
phnks Featured By Owner Mar 17, 2019  Hobbyist Writer
Love this! I've always wanted to read a sort of "never ending" story, constant bizarre short stories pumped out every so often based on dreams... or nightmares.
Well, to be honest, I wanted to do this a few years ago even. Used to dream often, and lucid dream occasionally, was cut short due to well, medication. Was better than the alternative without meds but yeah, I do miss dreams and even the nightmares sometimes actually. Should be fun to read what you got when you get there :)
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:iconsubjugatedsandwich:
SubjugatedSandwich Featured By Owner Mar 18, 2019  Hobbyist Writer
That sucks about the decrease in dreaming, but at least it's for a healthy reason. I kind of miss nightmares too. At a certain point in my life I just became incapable of having them because the event of "nightmare" became a lucid trigger for me. So I will sometimes have that almost chemical feeling of fear in my dreams that accompanies a terrible nightmare but my mind will instantly be like "We can blow this joint if need be." and I often do. And monsters won't even show up anymore even if I know they're there through dream-think. It's like they're scared because they know what I'll do to them. :XD:
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:iconphnks:
phnks Featured By Owner Mar 19, 2019  Hobbyist Writer
Yeah, it's a pretty useful skill you have there to lucid dream to that extent. I could never do it reliably. I was suggested by multiple doctors to try and build a lucid dreaming 'habit', apparently you can practice and get better at it to some extent. Most of my issues were night terrors so being able to lucid dream and stop them actively before I wake up screaming and jump out the nearest apartment window would've been great :)
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:iconmissvirginia:
Missvirginia Featured By Owner Sep 25, 2013   Digital Artist
That opening paragraph really resonated with me. I really want to do a series of paintings illustrating this. I have such fantastic images in my head after reading this. :la: Another lovely work SubSandy. ;D
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:iconsubjugatedsandwich:
SubjugatedSandwich Featured By Owner Sep 25, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you so much! Yeah, I wish I could do that paragraph better because there's no describing quite what it felt like to live it. =D
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:iconmetroidpeter:
MetroidPeter Featured By Owner Sep 23, 2013
Have you ever had a Lucid Dream?
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:iconsubjugatedsandwich:
SubjugatedSandwich Featured By Owner Sep 23, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Yep, I used to have them almost every night. And in fact I am almost always partially lucid so I'm incapable of being affected by nightmares.
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:iconmetroidpeter:
MetroidPeter Featured By Owner Sep 24, 2013
I've never had a Lucid Dream, not that I've ever tried to have one...
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:iconsubjugatedsandwich:
SubjugatedSandwich Featured By Owner Sep 24, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Well, it's not really something you need to "try" to have. Sure you can write them down every day or do "reality checks" and stuff like that but I never did any of that stuff when I was younger and I used to have them every night. It kind of either happens or it doesn't. Not a lot you can do to force it.
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:iconnyunyuelf:
nyunyuelf Featured By Owner Sep 22, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
Purty cool...purty cool....reminds me of Neverending Story, amongst other things...don't ask why.
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