Mzzkc's Mind Games

1.4.2011

Ruined (Non-lucid)

★★★★★

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

With gusto, I sprint across the cool, black asphalt, brown sneakers propelling me forward with every pounding step. The horde looms in the distance, row upon row of agile, intelligent zombies. Knowingly, I dash forward, weaving through cars, crimson, white, and purple, cutting to the right with nothing but STAR, my trusty yellow Nitefinder, in hand. Nay, the zombies aren't on my tail; they're right in front of me.

They mock me, as I slow down, off to their rightmost flank. What could I possibly do with such a small weapon, they wondered? Was I even worth the effort of a charge?

Stopping, stepping back, I know they're right.

Well, at least about the former.

With a smile, I raise my arms, and lift a dart from the ground, twenty paces away. The zombies look in astonishment as the dart floats of its own accord, and their jaws drop when it fires through the air, nailing one unfortunate zed in the face.

But still, they mock me.

One dart won't be enough.

Both arms, and countless darts, rise at my command. My eye lit with a fiendish glint, I can't help smirking at their shock. Even as they charge, I'm alight with joy, as my darts rain upon them, taking out their front line. But despite my barrage, many of them remain untouched, and now they're upon me, here to devour me.

FWIP.

A quick teleport puts me behind their ranks, where I continue to wreak havoc. Every time they get close enough to do something, I teleport away and attack from a different side. Eventually, it becomes too much for them.

They quit, walk away, deband themselves.

What have I done? Could it be I've singlehandedly ruined this Invitational.

My perspective cuts away. . .

______________


A girl walks along the same black asphalt I had run upon earlier. As she goes, she breaks the rear windows of every car she can. Another girl, part of the same horde I had just forced into ruin, goes to stop her, asking her what's wrong.

The first girl replies, “You know, when the game's on I can keep it under control; I can stay sane,” she rubs at her face, smearing the black ash covering her cheeks and forehead, “But now look what's happened. . .”

The second girl, yelling, remanding, starts: “That doesn't mean you—” but she's cut off as a knife pierces her pink skin-tight shirt and enters her gut. With a thump, she's lying on the ground, as the ash faced girl smirks and walks away. . .

______________


What have I created?

Years have passed since that fateful day, but the terror, the crazed female killer, remains at large. As her creator, I'm tasked with her extermination.

______________


We meet on a field of dead grass, my sword drawn, a machete with a complex, elegant, two-handed, design, her knives at the ready. In a flash of steel, we clash, crossing blades, determined to end the life of the other.

But alas.

The dreams fades.

26.3.2011

HvZ Hax (Non-lucid)

★★★★☆

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

Surrounded on all sides, I fight back, blasting away at the horde, still thinking I'd get out of it alive. Alone in this battle, my squad had all died before me, for I was unable to protect them in the crucial moments before their lives were taken.

Zera, my blaster, my launcher of foam death, performs admirably, but even she can't stop these nimble Zeds from getting too close. A girl, new to the game, lunges at my right, reaching for me, looking to end me.

Dammit! I think, as her hand starts to grasp at my shirt. Only one option left. . .

FWIP

My body disappears, blinking out of existence, as I teleport away, leaving my would be killer with a handful of air. On my reentry, I appear above the horde, on a grassy hill, the sun at my back, looking down on them. At this point, I could run, live to die another day, but. . . I've already gone this far.

FWIP

I TP closer and let off a shot, taking one of them down.

FWI—FWIP—FWIP

Again and again, I teleport, fire, teleport, fire, keeping a steady rhythm as I eliminate their numbers, one by one.

They can't keep up.

______________


“You cheated, hacked the system,” JTN, leader of the Zombie forces remands me, as the two of us stand on a rooftop, overlooking the battlefield.

“'Cheated' is a little harsh,” I tell him, Zera still hanging by the strap around my neck. “Besides, it's not like I got out alive anyways.”

“Still. . .”

¡Single Sentence Sizzler!®

10.1.2011

Plush Slayer (Non-Lucid)

★★★☆☆

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

Originally Posted by Mzzkc

On a raised platform, in the dead of night, I slayed hordes of plush zombies with the help of family, friends, and cold steel; Puffin made an appearance.

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.

16.10.2010

Tales From a Survivor (DILD)

★★★★☆

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

The undead are everywhere in this hell-forsaken, urban town. Myself, and three other survivors have managed to snag ourselves an old red Cadillac and are on our way to wherever we can find refuge. Of course, there's only one problem: the car is a stick, and none of us know how to work the damn thing. I volunteer to drive, since I understand the basic concept, and manage to get us moving after some work with the clutch. Unfortunately, I have no feel for shifting gears so every mistimed swerve around the frequent masses of rotting, staggering, corpses dotting our path slows us down considerably. And when you're surrounded by these monsters, the last thing you want to do is slow down.

______________

The four of us are in a dank sewer system, with another group of survivors, but the green, waist-deep, muk surrounding us is the least of our problems. Cornered, without a clearly defined means of escape, there's a school of zombie piranhas hot on our tail. It's like something out of a dream.

“This is your dream, after all. . .”

Says the small girl at my side as I become wholly aware of my situation. This is a dream all right, but I still want to get the hell out of here. Running out from under the large, boat-sized pipe above us, I jump up and pull down on the huge, mildew-covered cart that looks like it belongs on an ancient, over-sized amusement park ride. Motioning for everyone to climb their way out, I begin the journey myself. Halfway up, the cart buckles under our weight, sending me crashing down to the lower seats.

Great. Now I'm going to be savagely ripped apart and devoured by a bunch of undead fish!

It isn't pleasant.

______________

“What are you doing?”

“Making macaroni pictures for the dead.”

“Right,” I state, ignoring the clearly-oblivious, craft-obsessed people in the room. The whole scene is quite absurd really. Sure, this might be the last haven on Earth, but is this really the best my mind can up with after that whole tunnel fiasco? The computers in the corner of this modern, windowed atrium-turned-art-room catch my eye. Once there, I find a worn, yellowed note tucked under one of the keyboards.

“Arts and Crafts
1600 hours
We'll be there.”

Clearly, this is an extraction notice, meaning this area isn't going to be safe for much longer. I guess this explains the whole arts and crafts thing, then. I toss the note aside, and approach the tall double doors at the front of the room.

That's when the nightmare begins.

A demented, ethereal voice hisses through the room as the florescent lights around me dim and flicker menacingly. The voice continues its bone chilling speech, piercing not only my ears, but my mind. They're here.

Stepping away from the door, I locate my group, who're already moving back into the building, away from this madness. As I run to catch up, the tall glass window to my right shatters suddenly, and the stuff of nightmares, the source of the voice, falls through, blocking my path. It's all skin and sinew, with matted black hair on its misplaced, feminine head. Its arms and legs, if you can even call them that, are unnaturally long and bent at disturbing angles. To my relief, it doesn't seem to notice me, and moves sickeningly away, towards the screaming, as more glass shatters around the room, spilling forth the beast's tentacle-mouthed minions. I walk past it, but make the mistake of giving it one last glance.

Before I know it, it's on top of me, trying to splay my body into bits. Sighing internally, I grab the snarling head, and twist its neck, hard, fast. I'm met with resistance, but it's not enough to save the wretch.

______________

Turns out the escort was real, and here we are now, riding a Scorpion Tank through a literal sea of undead. I'm designated driver, once again, and sure enough: Tank. Beats. Everything. For fun, I blast holes in the ocean of bodies, sending bits of flesh flying into the cold, red, night air. The zombies fill out their ranks faster than I can take them out, but it doesn't matter to me. I'm driving a fucking tank during the zombie apocalypse for crying out loud. It doesn't get much better than that.

17.01.2010

Making Fiends (DILD)

★★★☆☆

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

I heard a knock coming from the back work room. I go to investigate, leaving my friend unattended. KA-KRACK! Lightning struck outside, illuminating the cold dark room and the sharp steel tools and saw blades that lined the walls. In the flash, I made out a figure climbing up the wet concrete steps outside. It looked back at me and I saw it was the hag from before, the witch I had given the human test subject to for experimentation!

Oh, no. . .

Had she come to return my gift? I needed to warn my friend.I rushed out to the main basement area only to be pounced upon by the creature I feared would be there. It tore at my arms and opened my skin. I was infected. I felt the virus starting to take hold and watched, helpless, as my friend, who had come to help me, was infected in the same manner I had been.

Spoiler for MIND SCAR:

We had to get the cure. . . fast. I called for my father, who had training in these matters, and it turned out he was in the back room all along. With his help, we managed to synthesize a cure composed of various herbs, grasses, and shit. Lots and lots of shit. Using my hands, I mixed the herb components with the gooey brown fecal matter, but I was running out of time. I had to apply the cure to my now quickly decaying body. Taking a handful of the chunky brown and green mixture, I smeared it all over my face. I didn't care how stomaching wrenchingly disgusting the action was; I was determined to live.

I felt the effects in moments. Life was rushing back into me, and survival was in my grasps. Shit! I accidentally opened my left eye, getting crap all over it. Needless to say, it was unpleasant.

A small amount of time passed, bringing my health back to it's previous state. Now, I wanted to go upstairs. Hmm, having something chase me up these stairs would be interesting. Let's try to create something! I focused on the darkness, but was only able to create vague shape. I turned back to the door for a second before looking behind me yet again.

"GRAAAHR!" the ravenous zombie-like monster behind me yelled as it attacked me. I barreled up the stairs lightning fast and closed the door behind me. The creature kept right on my tail and apparently knew how to use a door handle. I stepped into the kitchen and turned around, watching the basement doors.

I'm dreaming. I fear nothing as the infected bursts through the basement door. It snarls at me ravenously, but I hold firm. I make no effort to reach for my blade. I was going to break the cycle. "Hey, you can attack me and try to scare me all you'd like, but it's all pointless." As if to prove me wrong, it lunges at me at full sprint. I step to the side and let it pass, showing no aggression. It makes a sharp turn and tries again, but I dodge to the side leaving it back where it started.

"See," I say, building up happiness as I speak, "why don't we be friends instead?" The zombie relaxes and puts its gnarled hands at its sides. Then, it transforms, shedding off its appearance in a swirl of dark purple energy. What remains is a girl, about my age, with long black hair and pale skin, clothed in a dark colored glossy dress.

"Fine." she says, almost cautiously. I smile, walk over to her, and take her hand.

What follows is a montage of us building a friendship. The scene cuts to me showing her around a cityscape that is plastered in images of me in my lucid state, but I don't look like me, I look kinda like Lucas from SSBB. And the only difference between my lucid state and non-lucid state is a small puft of hair. I explain my importance and the good I do for the people here while lucid. She tells me she's a dream demon.

"Oh, what's your na-"

"Michelle," she answers before I can finish. I smile again. I'm in a really good mood, now, as a direct result of the emotional control I displayed earlier. Michelle shows me some of the forms she has taken in past dreams. One of them is a disturbingly obese child that appears to have Downs or some other form of mental handicap. The gender is indecipherable and the bodily proportions of the kid are barely human. Thanks to the great mood I'm in, I find this hysterical.

Michelle suggests I try out a "Chuckie" dream, and I agree. My lucidity is subpar at this point. The scene changes yet again and I find myself in a deserted trailer in the middle of a dark forest. I'm sitting at a desk and eerie music is playing. However, even when the doll, or whatever it is, attacks me from behind, I'm not frightened at all. I simply exit the body I was in and find myself looking down on Michelle as she hovers over a small box in a frenzied cackle.

My new body is incorporeal and is attached to the old one by a stream of pale, wavy, blue, distilled light. The old body is in the box which is shaking wildly and emitting shouts and screams. Michelle doesn't seem to notice me behind her. Still, I'm not too concerned. I lift my right hand parallel to me and muster forth a bit of excitement. Sure enough, a bright white light builds up inside the box and the right side blasts off violently, expelling debris all over the the place. My other body flies out and gives Michelle a truly pleased and care-free look.

"I win! ^.^" I somehow have it say, making sure to convey the emotion that is synonymous with that emoticon.

"I hate you. . ." she states dejectedly.

My brother's alarm goes off.

26.07.2009

I'm OP in HvZ (Non-lucid)

★★★★☆

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

Another game of HvZ is happening. I'm in the middle of a mission, running through the woods. I use an onion to activate my motion tracker. As if by magic, I can see, in the corner of my sight, a little box with blinking red and yellow dots to denote where zombies and friendlies are. Up ahead at the weapons cache are a bunch of zombies waiting in ambush, but behind me there are three or 4 right on my tail. I've got my recon with a modified LED attachment to help me make my way through the brush. I'm moving at a good pace, but my fellow humans are going much faster than I.

I decide to take a different route and start moving SW from my previous Eastern path. The zombies don't notice and keep moving ahead. I play cat and mouse with them for awhile, me being the mouse, before all the humans and zombies finally make it to an open field. A firefight ensues. My recon gets great ranges and is pretty accurate. In the dream it was deadly accurate. I was pegging zombies from 40' away. My super clip of ten darts was running out fast. I had to rely on my new NF to save me on one occasion.

A few of my friends had already been tagged and it was only a matter of time before they turned. In the mean time, a bunch of the zombies I had taken out were becoming un-stunned. I re-stunned them, but was soon almost out of ammo. I un-holstered a Maverick and started firing away, running back toward the end of the field, by some more woods. I needed more ammo and I needed it now. I reach out my hand to the fallen darts littering the wet grass. I pull them all toward me using TK. I only manage to get a few at a time, but I quickly learn I can easily control the darts this way. I spin them around and fling them at the incoming zombies, taking out two or three a volley. It was quite fun. Unfortunately, the dream ended soon after that.

24.07.2009

Bleh (Non-lucid)

★★★☆☆

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

A restless night with a few fragments I don't remember, and a long ass dream involving. . .

The Harry Potter universe, the sacrifice of three good friends in order to ensure an end to the evil that plagued us, going back in time involuntarily to make amends and try to save those friends, shirking my responsibilities in order to play Guitar Hero, characters from the Pokemon universe and their Pokemon coming to our aid, and standing my ground, alone, against an endless horde of undead.

It wasn't as exciting as it sounds, and I don't have time to write about it anyways, so this will just have to be enough for me to recall the whole thing.

19.07.2009

Fight! (Non-lucid)

★★★★☆

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID







It's another Bleach style dream. However, there are no real characters from the show. To prepare for a final battle I go around fighting in order to establish my skill as a combatant. I spend the entire dream fighting things like Hollow and Arrancar. It was fun, but the final battle never happened.

_________________________

19.07.2009

Guitar Hero Duo (Non-lucid)

★★★★☆

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID







I was at a gig that a popular group was doing. They were putting together a Guitar Hero Band for the latest game featuring their music. I end up volunteering for the guitar spot, but it's a toss up between me and this other guy, who just started playing the game a week ago, but has shown ridiculous growth in skill. We have a face off. We're playing Cliffs of Dover, I'm doing great, but my guitar is having double strum issues. I mention it, and they check it out before agreeing with me and giving me a new controller. But instead of just a normal face-off, the guy and I decide to travel around playing at various venues nationwide, improving our skills as we go. We get better and better before, eventually, we decide to both play guitar in the band.

_________________________

19.07.2009

Resident Halo (Non-lucid)

★★★★☆

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID







I'm playing matchmaking in Halo 3. I'm at my former skill level, but there are these new setting that allow you to set your difficulty. At Very Hard, you do less damage and are much easier to kill. At Very Easy you deal a bit more damage and it takes a lot to kill you. I'm playing with my skill set to Very Hard, but most people are playing on Very Easy. I'm wiping the floor with everyone, and continue to do so until the dream suddenly turns into a zombie dream.

I give the shotgun to a friend and elect to use a Katana to cut down any zombies in my path. We end up in the building's Hospital Ward, which before long is overflowing with zombies. I'm slashing away, holding up the rear as our group makes it to the stairs that lead outside. I jump down the stairs entire flights at a time, as they wind down ever closer to the outside world. A zombie is waiting in ambush as I head outside, but a sword lodged in his brain stops him dead. In the end, once we reach a grassy hill, it turns out the whole thing was just a simulation and we didn't have anything to worry about. All of a sudden, someone in the group starts convulsing. Everyone looks at each other, realizing this wasn't part of the simulation. Before a real zombie outbreak can start, though, I wake myself up because I don't feel like dealing with it.

09.07.2009

A Night Out (DILD)

★★★★★

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

There's an HvZ game afoot. I'm speeding down the road to my old high school because there's a mission going down in the area. My old Maxima handles beautifully at those speeds, but, with the traffic, I can't get to the left lane in time, so I'm forced onward. The roads by these residential townhouses were too small to drive through in order to turn around, so I had to wait 'till I reached the end of the street.

When I got there, I parked, got out, and made my way through a building into a plaza, of sorts, with a colorfully tiled ground and a round stone fountain. It was a clear, almost eerie, night. A dark blue atmosphere lined the skyline, wafts of orange tint flowed through the countless stars. Each star burned brightly, making up for the lack of moon. The click of nerf guns could be heard in the distance. I had to get moving.

Making my way back through the lightless building, a girl bursts through the front door, running wildly past me, dropping a bunch of sonic micros as she goes. Crap, I don't have any of my gear, I thought, frantically gathering as many of the darts up as I could. As I approached the front door, it started to open. Knowing there would be a zombie behind it, I chucked my load of newly acquired darts. My victim was peppered with black foam and orange rubber. Too bad she wasn't even playing.

Not letting that ruin my fun, I magically made my way back to the school, on foot, via time lapse. Dreams are cool like that. The lobby had a sickening tinge to it, like you would find in an abandoned hospital. There were traces of mold growing in the corners. Black grime thinly coated the walls. My nerves were starting to get the best of me. Suddenly, out of nowhere, I'm ambushed. But, this isn't your typical HvZ player, this is a full blown zombie. She jumps on me, digging her fingernails into my neck. There's no way this can be happening. This has to be a dream.

It is a dream. The realization swept over me, and as the room around me started to become clearer and more vivid, so did the foul thing grasping onto me. I tried very hard not to look into its blue veined and rotting face as I attempted to rip off its head. However, the harder and harder I tried, the more she held onto me and the less her neck would budge. Brute force wasn't working.

I hate that bird so much.

Edit for clarification: My mother owns a bird that likes to squawk very loudly in the morning after it's been uncovered.