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    Non-Lucid Dreams

    1. Mzzkc's Mind Games

      by , 01-05-2011 at 07:09 AM (Mzzkc's Mind Games)
      4.01.2011
      Feeding Time (Non-lucid)
      ★★★★☆
      NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID






      Darkness covers the deserted outpost. Grey walled, black roofed buildings, dot the area, each a relic of the past. Though, the architecture, old-west in style, seems to be the norm across this post-apocalyptic wasteland. Shuffling through the first floor of the Inn, my sisters and I cast shadows on the murky glass. They're coming. . .

      “What's that movement? In the window,” a woman points and whispers through hushed sobbing. A group approaches from up the grassy, wet, dirt-laced hill. They haven't slept for days. I motion with my flesh-torn arm for my sisters to cease their movement, close to the door now, out of sight, we're in perfect striking range.

      “You're hallucinating,” warns the portly man with a broken staff and scruffy shadow of a beard. He saw it too, but hunger, the possibility of food, and a lack of sleep disrupt his reasoning. Unsure as he approaches the loosely hinged door, he warns the others to stay back.

      It's likely these people have never seen one of our kind before. Never had to fear our bloodlust, our thirst for human flesh. No, these poor travelers have no idea what's waiting for them, just inside the darkness. We have the advantage.

      They're unlucky, really, terribly unlucky. We could have come to any world, any universe, in the hunt for our true prey. I never had to steal that alien craft in our home dimension; the resistance would have gotten along fine without it. Sure, some key leaders would have been executed, but the fight would have continued.

      Instead, out of character, I took a risk, and here I am now, in another plane of existence, dead and rotting, kept moving only by a powerful virus, or magic, I can't be sure. My intelligence, my self, remains intact. A true zombie, I am not, but my craving, my need to feed. . . all too real. Even as I bite down on this man's fleshy leg, repulsed by the taste, the dirt, the grime, I can't stop biting, tearing, where the others can't see him, can't hear his muffled cries.

      I really hate it when they don't shower.

    2. Mzzkc's Mind Games

      by , 01-04-2011 at 06:06 AM (Mzzkc's Mind Games)
      ¡Single Sentence Sizzler!®

      4.1.2011
      Eval (Non-Lucid)
      ★★★☆☆
      NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

      Quote Originally Posted by Mzzkc View Post
      I drift and roll, consumed by bliss, by care free wonder, as my thoughts, my life, my being are evaluated true, false, back to true, on and on until I soar too high; the weight of my consciousness brings me crashing down into an empty, concrete pool.
    3. Mzzkc's Mind Games

      by , 12-26-2010 at 11:52 AM (Mzzkc's Mind Games)
      ¡Single Sentence Sizzler!®

      26.12.2010
      Confused (Non-Lucid)
      ★★☆☆☆
      NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

      Quote Originally Posted by Mzzkc View Post
      After showing my father a chart of the best bands to ever come out of Michigan, I wake up thinking I'm in an wide, open field, starry night sky overhead, realizing I'm all alone and the band I was following had up and left; in actuality, I lay awake in bed, suffering some serious delusions, as the word serendipitous came to mind.

      I later learned that the woman residing in my head can kill me at any time, so long as I let/ask her. She advises me not to take that course of action; I'm inclined to agree.

      Updated 12-26-2010 at 11:55 AM by 25167

      Categories
      non-lucid
    4. Mzzkc's Mind Games

      by , 12-04-2010 at 03:32 AM (Mzzkc's Mind Games)
      ¡Single Sentence Sizzler!®

      3.12.2010
      Evasion (Non-lucid)
      ★★★☆☆
      NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

      Quote Originally Posted by Mzzkc View Post
      Evaded extermination by using short range teleportation to stay one jump ahead of the red-laser wielding hunters in a rather confined, futuristic city-scape.
    5. Mzzkc's Mind Games

      by , 10-25-2010 at 04:07 AM (Mzzkc's Mind Games)
      24.10.2010
      Networks (Non-lucid)
      ★★★★☆
      NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID






      Stretched out against a vast, black aether, they weave and twist about, branching down into unfathomable depths. At the head, a name for each: Walms, Naiya, Raven, and so many more. Delving down, I explore their reaches. The expanse below Walms' is the largest by far, and twines itself about the others more and more the deeper I go. Naiya's is closest to Walms', their trees the largest, while Raven's name is drifting, slowly pulling away from the others.

      The scene shifts into a game of conquest, and here I find MoSh, willingly under the control of a female presence I never get to see. She guides him well; his troop placements are precise, his movements coordinated. I find myself under pressure. . .


      ______________


      The dark conference room, with its expensive wooden tables and high-backed chairs lined up against the walls, is deserted. Making my way to a table across the room, the other High Aide walks in, aghast.

      “They're not here,” she sounds frustrated.

      “No. It's not like Congress to be here in a time of crisis. I expect they're safe somewhere, probably out of country.”

      “Point taken, but that still leaves us. The enemy is descending upon us, as you well know, but what are we supposed to do about it?”

      “Keep things under control,” I pick up a pink slip of paper with several ornate signatures scrawled across it. “A standing order,” I tell my coworker.

      “What does it say?” the other Aide asks quietly.

      “We have to evacuate.”

      “Then let's get out of here. . .”

      We walk through the white-walled building, all the way to the heavily populated atrium. A commotion erupts upon our arrival, and I drop the book I wasn't carrying moments ago. Stepping on it, I notice there's something under it. . . is that?

      “NOBODY MOVE!” A man in a black leather jacket and slacks steps out in front of me, back turned, left arm locked around a secretary, right hand handed aiming a gun at her head. Just like the one beneath my book. I scoot backwards, dragging the book and gun underfoot, taken aback by the occurrence. Why would terrorists be attacking the House at a time like this. No one is here, except us two. Slightly dumbfounded, and fearing for my own safety, it takes me a moment to realize the man doesn't know I'm behind him.

      Reaching down, I grab the gun; it's an old five shot revolver, I'm not really sure on the make. I point the weapon at the man's back and move slowly, silently forward. Putting up my other hand to steady the shot. . .

      BANG!

      A hole appears in the back of his jacket, followed by blood. He slumps to the ground, dead, but he's not alone. His accomplice comes at me from the left, swiftly. I try to aim the gun at him, but my hands are shaking too violently. A shot rings out, and a bullet wizzes by my head, tousling my hair. I fire wildly, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG. Each shot either goes wide or spirals out of control, missing the mark. The accomplice fires back at me four times. One miss, two miss, three miss. . .

      THMP.

      The bullet rips through my chest and my mouth opens in shock, spitting up blood. I stagger for a moment before my eyes go wild and I look at my killer with a maniacal glint. I let him know, “I can regen, mother fucker!” I charge him, quickly regenerating the wound in my chest, pushing out the hot lead. Pointing my empty gun at him, I demand his weapon. He hands it to me, terrified; it's got one shot left. I put it against his head, and he whimpers like a puppy. As I pull the trigger, I grimace as. . . the shot bounces off his skull?

      The anticlimactic ending stifles my rage, and the two of us have a chat. “You know the only people of any importance here right now are the High Aides, right?” I ask him.

      “Oh, really. . ? Well, we should have figured as much with Rob moving in on Cambodia [Kaomea?] in the west.”

      “Yeah, I still have to let the Adamarill know.”

      “Admiral?”

      “That's what I said.”

      Another shift and I'm streaming a video of Galactica's CIC. Starbuck let's Adama know the current situation, and I can't help noticing the HAL eye at the bottom of the screen. I remember that signifies this is one of my Dream Journal Entry. Wait a second. . .

      My phone rings.

      Updated 01-05-2011 at 07:12 AM by 25167

      Categories
      non-lucid
    6. Mzzkc's Mind Games

      by , 10-23-2010 at 01:31 AM (Mzzkc's Mind Games)
      I decided to journal today after all. ^.^

      22.10.2010
      War Games (Non-lucid)

      NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID







      Dream: Lone Warrior
      ★★☆☆☆
      Romping through MM, I notice a thread devoted to a site-wide forum game. It's a risk-esque game of sorts, where players build armies based on their dream lives and then battle each other for territory. I'm amused by the fact Walms doesn't have an army, but still has stats rivaling some of the better players. On a trip to the mall, I keep myself updated on the happenings of the game, and eventually join in the fun.

      Dream: Civ Dev
      ★★★☆☆
      Once again, I'm in MTB's apartment. This time, however, we're alone. Letting myself into his room, I discover he's working on an RTS game based on the board game a friend of mine had helped put together for one of his classes. The design is simple enough. Each player starts with a single town on a gridded map and takes turns working toward conquering the opposing player's town through economic or military might. Very Civ. He's starts up a test game and walks me through what he's doing. Very quickly, he builds up a formidable city while the computer player lags behind. Secretly, I make a note that the AI needs work.

      As the game progresses, MTB is clearly winning, and I'm starting to better understand the game's dynamics. In a few turns, it's clear the AI is trying for an assault. I suggest MTB make use of his navy to take out the nearest enemy regiment. But my suggestion proves fatal, as the AI had been spending all its resources making ridiculously powerful infantry which quickly wipes out MTB's fleet. Meanwhile a southern contingent literally walks into MTB's city, takes the town center, and wins the game. Maybe the AI is better at this than I thought. MTB is not amused.


      Dream: Alpha Meat
      ★★★☆☆
      We're in agreement, CTB and I. On principle, all Zeds should attack people carrying Alpha Troopers on sight. So here I find myself, thirty minutes before safe-hour, outside the dining hall, with an Alpha Trooper. I know CTB is mocking me from his room as I stride carelessly about, girlfriend in tow. The first zombie that spots me seems dejected, and just stands there as I take my shot. Soft, orange foam from my bright yellow toy spurts out the muzzle and flies awkwardly to the left, wide of my target. Always prepared for misses, I pull back on the pump-action grip to prime the blaster, but then unthinkable happens.

      I screw up; my hand flies wildly off the smooth plastic grip, leaving the blaster in a half-primed limbo. My foe is as surprised as I am, but is smart enough to lunge at me. Just like that, I'm dead. But I shouldn't be. That should never have happened. Defiantly, I reverse time, back to the point where I first encountered the Zed. Things play out differently this time, and I unload two quick, successive shots into his chest using slam-fire. Looking behind me, I spot another Zed and do the same to him. All in all, I stun five zombies before making my way into the D-Hall; my girlfriend got one, too. She had run up to the last Zed in the area and pressed her NF into his chest, pulling the trigger, putting him out of the game for fifteen minutes.

      Once inside, I swipe in and grab myself a large chocolate chip cookie, taking a seat next to some other HvZers I don't really know. One of them has their Alpha Trooper opened up on the table. Taking a look, I notice how hefty the spring is. Clearly modified. He closes it up in due time, well before the mission, and I get to see what he's done to the shell. The most prominent feature is a six-inch bowie knife on the top that seems to be a little loose, attached partially by rubber bands. He could seriously hurt someone with that. . .

      Updated 01-05-2011 at 07:13 AM by 25167

      Categories
      non-lucid
    7. Mzzkc's Mind Games

      by , 10-20-2010 at 03:53 AM (Mzzkc's Mind Games)
      SPECIAL EDITION

      Most of you probably didn't notice the removal of one of my five star entries recently. I took it down because I was using it as a base for a school project. Today, I present the result of that project in Dream Journal Format. Enjoy.


      10.08.2010
      The Way The World Ends: Special Edition (Non-lucid)
      ★★★★★
      NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID






      Thoughts, silently drifting atop an ocean of blackness, play in my mind. Flashing images, darting under supple waves of nothing, form together to create new and exciting visions. Drifting slowly toward sleep, the onset of a dream is upon me. The shift into the dream-state is sudden, yet subtle. . . .

      Everyone gets a test. Crap, I whisper inwardly. The answers were just on the board, but my recall is hazy, murky. I struggle, fighting through my memories like one would against a powerful current, but—realization strikes me abruptly. With great haste, I record my revelation.
      “Soul: The agent that binds humanity together.”
      “Biology: The genetic force that drives humans apart. Often incites violent conflicts.”
      I ponder, deeply, the implications of these definitions, likening soul to an archaic ideal and biology—difference, technology—to humankind’s present outlook. In today’s world, with its holographic displays and galaxy-wide communication, hardly anyone believes in the existence of a soul. Clearly, technology has ascended to fill our need to connect with one another, making souls obsolete. And yet, something is missing, something one can’t get from behind a dim glowing screen. Without this crucial piece, our physiological differences rise to the surface, and we begin to look upon those unlike ourselves with disdain and contempt. Even the best of us fall prey to this reality.

      The proof is here in this classroom full of geniuses. Each of us, raised in a world of cold circuitry and wire, place ourselves above this guest-lecturer who had the nerve to test us. More than that, none of us, save myself, are afraid to show it. One student in particular vocalizes the intellectual disparity between the professor and her students using several colorful metaphors, and I can’t help agreeing with him.

      Without warning, the dream changes. Our test is over, and my class is headed back to Earth, yet no one celebrates our return. A sea of nuclear warheads is descending upon us, dropping through the same atmosphere we are. This is it: the end of everything. My peers look at me; their dark, motionless eyes stare blankly. All hope has left them.

      I extend a shield of energy around those close to me as the nukes hit ground. Fallout descends upon us, drowning the air in a blood-red hue, buffeting my shield, heating it beyond the realms of human survival. The world outside my bubble is dead, and there’s nothing I can do about it. I think I failed the test.

      Updated 10-20-2010 at 06:15 AM by 25167

      Categories
      non-lucid , memorable
    8. Mzzkc's Mind Games

      by , 08-27-2010 at 12:55 PM (Mzzkc's Mind Games)
      ¡Single Sentence Sizzler!®

      27.08.2010
      This Church is Flammable. Your Argument Is Invalid. (Non-lucid)
      ★☆☆☆☆
      NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

      Quote Originally Posted by Mzzkc View Post
      My wife attempted to convince me, in front of a church, why I should go to Mass by reading off a pamphlet she just picked up which offered counter-points to "The Top 10 Reasons to Not Go to Church"; a counter argument to "wasting an hour of my life each week, performing bizarre cannibalistic rituals, in order to gain the affections of a bearded man in the sky" was not listed in the booklet.

      Updated 08-27-2010 at 01:01 PM by 25167

      Categories
      non-lucid
    9. Mzzkc's Mind Games

      by , 08-18-2010 at 03:44 PM (Mzzkc's Mind Games)
      ¡Single Sentence Sizzler!®

      18.08.2010
      Security War (Non-lucid)
      ★★☆☆☆
      NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

      Quote Originally Posted by Mzzkc View Post
      I battled wits with my good friend and RA, as he tried to use the knowledge he gained during his internship to lock me out of the school's system, while I used my own summer experiences to subvert his plans and bypass his security blocks; by winning the inevitable arms race, I eventually won the entire war.

      Updated 08-18-2010 at 04:06 PM by 25167

      Categories
      non-lucid
    10. Mzzkc's Mind Games

      by , 08-17-2010 at 01:23 PM (Mzzkc's Mind Games)
      ¡Single Sentence Sizzler!®

      17.08.2010
      Tugging at Heartstrings (Non-lucid)
      ★★★☆☆
      NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

      Quote Originally Posted by Mzzkc View Post
      After murdering the Chief of Police's son (before he can murder me), I cunningly convince the Chief to adopt me and another young orphan girl when he starts questioning us.
    11. Mzzkc's Mind Games

      by , 08-17-2010 at 03:17 AM (Mzzkc's Mind Games)
      ¡Single Sentence Sizzler!®

      16.08.2010
      The One Where I Play The Piano (Non-lucid)
      ★★☆☆☆
      NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

      Quote Originally Posted by Mzzkc View Post
      Not convinced of our abilities, Jeremy Clarkson, one of our instructors, forced me and the one other pianist in the orchestra to compose three separate, complex pieces on the spot using nothing but our pinkies; the music we created was beautiful, exciting, and inspiring, yet also morose and haunting.
    12. Mzzkc's Mind Games

      by , 08-15-2010 at 07:31 AM (Mzzkc's Mind Games)
      15.08.2010
      Eight (Non-lucid)
      ★★★☆☆
      NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID






      The aerial surveillance camera pans quickly and zooms in, tracking the movement of eight military transport jeeps as they blaze through the pine forest, kicking up light brown dirt into the air behind them.

      "Eight?!" says a voice. Was it my own? "There are supposed to be nine. . . You don't think he. . ."

      The boy, Achilles, stood before us, as his men removed the dark burlap bags from our heads. He begins talking gently to us, still trying to win us over, but the feigned kindness quickly turns into malicious indignation as he remarks on what all of us have already noticed.

      There are only eight of us.

      What happened to Crazy Tom? Abandoned? Left for dead? That's certainly what this scumbag wants us to believe. . .

      I have to know the truth. So, when Achilles finally finishes his tirade and turns to leave, I make my move. Toggling Super Jump I leap into the air, higher and faster every second. Still airborne, 150' up, I turn myself back from whence we came and start the search for our comrade at arms.

      Traveling at speeds in excess of 200MPH tends to get you places quickly. Soon enough, I spot an opening in the trees. I know this is where I'll find Tom. More than that, I know Achilles set a trap here. Still, that's not going to stop me.

      Setting down, I immediately spot the remains of a crashed and burnt jeep, but upon further inspection I fail to find any corpses. Determined to locate some kind of evidence, I venture further into the forest, which quickly turns to swampland.

      A woman's laughter echoes behind me. Could this be the trap? I ponder as I whip around toward the source of the surreal sound. There, in the pale moonlight, amidst the moss covered trees was indeed a woman, and she wanted me to follow her.

      She takes me to a thin veil of vines under a large fallen tree that has created a natural archway. Beyond the green mess I can see movement and activity. It doesn't take my curiosity long to get the better of me after the woman passes through the gateway. Cautiously, I make the plunge.

      The dark swamp is now a resort, with people everywhere, lounging about and in the many clear watered pools. Something is off. A sinister presence becomes apparent as several of the 'guests' and the woman from before slowly circle around me, moving ever closer.

      Shaking my pitchfork at them, I shout, "What have you done with him! Where's Crazy To--" Lethargy strikes me as I feel a sharp prick on my neck. The swamp-woman is biting me, and there's nothing I can do about it. I feel drained, helpless, but it doesn't hurt. . . No. . it actually. . . feels kinda. . . go--NO! With a burst of will, I right myself and try to shake her off, but the other guests take their bites, too. . . latching onto my flesh. . . I really am helpless. . . aren't I. . ?

      No. . . My struggle is weaker this time, and last only a moment. The power they have over me is remarkable. Most of me wants to give in and enjoy my demise, and the part that wants to fight, to live, is quickly fading. . .

      I die, willingly.
    13. Mzzkc's Mind Games

      by , 08-12-2010 at 03:38 AM (Mzzkc's Mind Games)
      10.08.2010
      The Way The World Ends (Non-lucid)
      ★★★★★
      NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID






      "Good morning, Colonies! Boy, do we have a show for you today!" The announcer's voice blares over my ear-piece, as I walk through Karachi, heading to my assigned 'interview.' "We're joined today by an esteemed Physics Professor and doctorate who is conferencing in all the way from. . ." He pauses. The view cuts to the broadcaster as he quickly flips through numerous files on his holographic display. "It's Cambridge, right?" he asks, more quietly.

      Another man with a thick accent begins to reply, "No, actually--"

      But the announcer has already found the file in question. "Oh, that's right! Texas MIT! Before we get to that segment, however, we have another installment of our bonus lecture series!"

      That's my cue, I better hurry up the stairs and find this woman.

      "Today's class is presided over by one of our very own Sociological Ethics and Law Lecturers."

      There she is. I greet her quickly and take out my small audio and visual recording device.

      "Please feel free to join the lecture remotely, and don't forget to ask questions!"

      We were live. The professor briefly introduces herself as we make our way through the dark, rundown building. My camera work is surprisingly smooth, but I seem to be having trouble keeping her in the center of the frame and following her movements. Eventually, we make it into a decent sized room and the real lecture begins.

      She starts by explaining basic concepts that anyone viewing should already know. Yet still, she has the gall to ask if there are any questions. "Hold on," I say as I reach for my com device. Sure enough, there's a solid red light, indicating someone is trying to interact with the class. Or just messing with her.

      Hitting the talk button, I wait for the person on the other end to say something. . . Silence. I hit the button again, "No questions," I state. She smiles, blissfully unaware that she's already lost everyone's respect.

      ______________


      The lecture continued as I faded in and out of alertness. At one point, she began discussing law making theory. An analogy was on the board, relating the foundation of any structured law to pipework, which one builds onto over time. But what happens when the pipes get old and outdated. I think. Shouldn't they be replaced by something that can keep up with the times?

      I bring the point to the Professor's attention, and she addresses it by referencing several countries whose base 'pipework' was designed to gradually be replaced to accommodate ever changing needs. Stupid. In today's day and world it'd be better to scrap the whole damn thing and start fresh. These antiquated pipes just aren't cutting it anymore. I don't press the point any further; it'd just waste time.

      ______________


      The classroom is brighter now, and there are students here besides myself. Professor Whatserface is angrily going over some definitions. I briefly stare at the board to memorize what's on it. Simple stuff. I just wish the kids in here would stop screwing around.

      Glancing around the lecture hall, I spot a friend behind me, two tiers up. Standing up from her seat, straightened arms supporting her thin boy-ish frame, I see Samael leaning over the desk of the boy beside her, who himself looks a lot like Lucidmax. She seems vastly interested in whatever is written on the papers in front of him. I turn back toward the board, and contemplate pulling out a pair of display glasses, linking into my own feed, and putting my head down. Nah, more trouble than it's worth.

      Regardless, our seeming lack of attention had finally struck a crucial nerve in our Prof. She hands out tests to everyone in the room, including myself, ranting about how she expected better from us and insisting she didn't want to give us exams, but we had forced her hand.

      "Look lady," commented a rather brash young man one tier above Samael, "we all know how excited you were to finally get a shot at teaching savants." His voice played off the sarcastic intonation perfectly. "Yeah, we learned everything you taught us. And, yes, this test is bullshit. But you keep in mind this whole thing is nothing more than a bonus class for us. Free time. So, don't you be surprised when most of these papers come back with 'The Great Leopold Wiggin' written at the top." The class snickers audibly. He's completely right, and the raw truth of it all brings a smirk to my face. I'm quick to hide it.

      Well, I might as well work on this test.

      Question 1: What are the definitions of "soul" and "biology" as discussed in class.

      Crap. These were just on the board. But, for some reason, my recall is hazy, blurry, almost dream-like. It's as if what was written on the board never existed. I keep struggling, fighting through my memories like one would against the ocean's current. . . Nothing. Maybe if I work through it, BS here and there.

      Soul: A spiritual essence that some believe

      Samael gets my attention, only, it's not Samael anymore. She's still my friend, the same girl from before, but her hair is longer, more teal, and her figure is very pronounced. The girl begins talking to me, and I know what she's doing instantly. Brilliant. She's dropping me clues to the answer while making it look like nothing more than chit-chat. So eloquently, too. There will be no way anyone can accuse her of cheating. Though the Professor caught on right away, echoing the last thing the girl had said in a mocking tone. She's just upset because she knows there's nothing she can do about it. Just then, I remember what was written on the board.

      Soul: A spiritual essence that some believe The agent that binds humanity together. Encourages moral behavior.

      I take a moment to criticize the definition and its obvious flaws. Not all mankind believes in souls. Where do they fall into this definition? They don't, but hopefully, if they've got any power, they're smart enough to see the little value there is in this concept.

      Biology: The genetic force that drives humans apart. Often incites violent struggles.

      More flawed definitions. Though, this one has an air of truth to it. . .

      ______________


      All of us are headed back to earth from the outlying Colony. Our shuttle, nearly finished breaking through the lower atmosphere, prepares for a hard landing. No one celebrates our safe return. We all know a sea of nuclear warheads is descending upon us, dropping through the same atmosphere we just passed through. This was it. The end of everything.

      But I wasn't going to have it. "I know how to stop the nukes." Everyone looks at me; their dark, empty eyes stare blankly. All hope has left them. We touch down violently, but not a moment too soon. Immediately, I create a purple shield of energy and extend it out, all around me, protecting my classmates and a portion of the shuttle-craft. The nukes hit ground.

      FFFWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHH!

      Fallout descends upon us, drowning the air in a blood red hue, buffeting my shield, heating it beyond the realms of human survival. Every piece of the shuttle not protected by the shield is destroyed, yet we survive. When it was over, I couldn't help thinking, Maybe it would have been better to die quickly, instead of slowly. From the looks on my peers' faces I could tell they were thinking the same thing.

      Dropping the shield, I notice my friend sprawled out on the floor, unconscious, and rush over to her, but the boy from before tries to push me away, giving me some ass-backwards reason as to why I should get away. I tell him off, refuting his point with enough logic to shut him up. Lifting her into my arms, I teleport away.

      "Well this is great," comments the young man from before.

      There was a long silence before anyone spoke up.

      "Do you think they'll be back. . ?"

      ______________


      I appear in a lobby. The teal haired girl is standing beside me now, perfectly alright. As I approach the uniformed security guard behind the wooden counter, he doesn't even blink at our strange and sudden appearance. After I inform him of our situation, and our need to move beyond this check point, he informs me that he's a zombie.

      "You seem too intelligent to be a zombie."

      "That's what all the other zombies say. So they stiffed me with job."

      "Well, are you going to let me by?"

      "No, sorry."

      "That's not good enough. Either let me by, or I'll force my way through."

      He stands up and pull his Maverick on me.

      "Do it," I whisper, reaching out my hand.

      "Oh, I will!"

      BANG! BANG! BANG!

      Reaching out with my mind, I catch the projectiles as they leave the blaster and launch them right back at the guard. He's stunned, but it wouldn't last long. Taking the girl's hand I lead her further into the facility. . .

      Updated 10-20-2010 at 03:47 AM by 25167

      Categories
      non-lucid , memorable
    14. Mzzkc's Mind Games

      by , 07-31-2010 at 03:29 AM (Mzzkc's Mind Games)
      27.07.2010
      Enter Nomad (Non-lucid)
      ★★★★☆
      NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID






      Transformed, behind us, likely screwing around, is Nomad, disguised as a container of sorts. Similar to the ones my friends and I had been rummaging through earlier. I know it's him because my perspective had switched to third person omniscient moments ago. He is clearly goofing off, likely without any grand motivation.

      Well, I can mess around, too. I think, as I break off from the group and draw my blade. Propelling myself forward, I shoot through the air, mere inches off the ground, straight toward that metallic container. Swiping upward, the world flashes as I make my cut, rendering the object in two. Times slows enough for me to see Nomad's shocked face as he drifts backward in the air, now in his own body.

      Landing smoothly, he grins before breaking apart into a platoon of smaller versions of himself. They rush me. I dart into the air, but the little buggers are too fast; They're all over me, taunting and laughing like little madmen, as they tear at my body.

      "BANKAI!"

      The rush of energy throws them all off, scattering them on the concrete below. I don't hesitate. Raising my sword, I form a tornado that quickly ensnares all the miniatures in a whirling vortex. The sight reminds me of how Raven divides herself, which reminds me of the Disturbed song of the same name. Feeling creative, I play through a key part in the song, but change the lyrics ever so slightly to "Form together and combine!" Sure enough, all the copies trapped within my tornado lump together into a full sized Nomad. But I wasn't done just yet.

      KA-CRACK!

      A bolt of lighting tears through the air, piercing the tornado and the man within it. Nomad drops to the ground as the tornado dissipates, no longer amused. I wonder if he knows who I am. Maybe I should've introduced myself first. My thoughts are interrupted as a distortion in the air brings my attention back into focus. A woman I recognize as Raven appears from the anomaly and drops down next to Nomad. Nomad brings me to her attention, and she immediately takes a defensive stance.

      "Hey," I say, nonchalantly, while motioning with my dual blades, "Why don't the three of us have a spar? You two versus me."

      They stare at me, shocked, before turning to each other, as if to confer. Looking back at me, Nomad nods solemnly. I'll take that as a yes, then.

      KA-CRACK!

      I start things off by striking the two of them with another bolt of lightning, but I had the source come from directly behind them this time. It was just enough to throw them off guard as I lunged forward, ready to strike.

      I woke up.

      Updated 07-31-2010 at 03:38 AM by 25167

      Categories
      non-lucid
    15. Mzzkc's Mind Games

      by , 07-24-2010 at 01:50 AM (Mzzkc's Mind Games)
      Originally, I was going to be writing about helping some DV members build a literal dream house, but an afternoon nap cropped up this gem. Part 2 will follow later tonight.

      23.07.2010
      Good Cop (Part 1 of 2) (Non-lucid)
      ★★★★☆
      NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID






      Feeling less than safe, even with my Riot Shield and full SWAT uniform, I quickly crouched and raised my shield as two thugs came up the stairs. I turned as they moved past me and MTM, making sure to keep the both of us safe in case they decided to start shooting. Glaring as they passed, I could see they were making their way further up into the mall. Maybe we should be going down, then.

      Motioning to MTM, who was armed with a G36C, we began moving down the stairs. As we went, I would jump over the ledge each time we reached the halfway mark, making the descent even faster. Soon enough, we were on the tiled ground floor of this vertically structured mall.

      PING! PEW! PING!

      Becoming very much aware of the bullets ricocheting off my shield, I ducked down, protecting the both of us from the fire raining from above. I looked up to see the thugs from before firing at us with a G18 and a Mini Uzi from a balcony several floors up. Calmly, I took out my Intervention, and peered through the thermal sights. Taking a breath, I fired a warning shot at each, hitting the barrels of the assault rifles hanging from their necks. Although, they seemed un-phased as they switched to their ARs, which were functioning perfectly fine despite the holes I had made. . .

      MTM took cover behind the stairs and lay down suppressive fire; I moved in closer to try and stop them. I made it a good distance, but a stray shot clipped my arm rather badly while I was putting my Riot Shield onto my back. Just like that, I was down for the count.

      The world faded in and out, as the amount of gunfire increased twofold. An old squad-mate ran over to me, unconcerned for her own safety, as she stood over my failing body, firing up at the goons who started this mess. It looks like the calvary has arrived, I thought as everything turned to black. . .

      Images flashed before my eyes. First, a scene of the two low-lifes explaining their position and admitting they were wrong to start shooting me like that, especially when they realized I could have taken them out at any moment. They showed the camera the damage I had done to their guns. Then, my time in the hospital drifted past my faint consciousness, and I became painfully aware of the toll the recovery process took on my psyche.

      A meaner, more bitter cop than before, I would no longer hesitate to take out a perceived threat if they even looked at me funny. The only thing that kept me from going off the wall was my family, who weren't taking my personality change very well. I feared they could leave me at any time. . . .

      Updated 07-24-2010 at 02:01 AM by 25167

      Categories
      non-lucid
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