Oneironaut Zero: Dreamwalker Chronicles

02/13/2011
"Freestyle Walking"

I was walking through the street with a group of what I think were probably (ex-)fellow TMC employees. There was just a huge mob of us, strolling along through the parking lot of a strip mall. I definitely did recognize A.B., who really make me think that the entire crowd was made up of my co-workers at the time. Off to one side, we passed an almost comically large truck/van. Someone told me that there were G.I.'s in there, undercover. Again, almost comically - there was an oh-so-incognito, massive antenna sticking up out of the top of the vehicle. The first urge that I had was to blow up the van. I got into Call of Duty mode, and saw a HUD come up in front of me. I kind of "scrolled" through weapons, seeing the barrel of one come up in front of me, before I switched to another. Yet none of this made me lucid. Someone beside me told me that I should use the Mac-11's. I told them that I was planning on using grenades. Whatever my intentions, I didn't ever actually get around to blowing up the vehicle. I ended up just abandoning the idea, and we kept on walking.

Stepping passed an intersection, I saw this insanely hot girl, crossing the street. I could only see her from her back and profile, but she was smokin. She looked Spanish, with long, wet hair, pulled back in a ponytail. She had a purple-ish shirt on, with a low-cut back and a tattoo visible between her shoulder blades. I can't remember what it was, though. Her body was incredibly fit, muscular in just the perfect propotions - remarkably toned, but not the least bit masculine. I lagged behind a bit to check her out, and nudged a few of the people around me to look over at her. A.B., who is a bisexual girl, was like "Hell yeah!" Apparently there was someone leading our group, because some girl beside us asked if 'so-and-so' would mind if we all stopped, so she could go to the bathroom. None of us figured it would be a problem, though someone in the group said that 'she (the group leader) might'.

Noticing that we were all falling way behind, I tried to speed up my step a little bit, to catch up with the group. When I did this, I noticed that I began gliding; sliding across the concrete parking lot with my sneakers, as if I were in a hockey rink. At first, it began to freak me out. I couldn't figure out why it was happening. Quickly, though, it just became fun. I was passing everyone, without the slightest effort - just kind of speeding up by sheer intention alone. At one point, I turned around, 'skating' backward, asking a few other people in the group about how hot they thought that girl back there was.

Suddenly, another tall, more-slender black man 'skated' up close to our group (also gliding on his own shoes, as I was). Without breaking stride, he cocked back and punched one of the white guys in the group, laying him out with one hit, and skating then toward me, as I was the next person in his path. Just by looking at him, I could tell that I was either going to have to defend myself, or I was going to get knockedthefuckout. Still sliding backward at a speed which just about matched his glide, I slipped aside his first punch. He then reached both hands in at me, grabbing me by my shirt and one arm. My left hand grabbed one of his arms, and instinctively drew my right hand down to my pocket, grabbing hold of my folding knife. Just when I was drawing it out of my jeans, I woke up.

11/27/2010
"You Picked the Wrong House, Bud!"

I was hanging out with Josh. We were in a house that was supposed to be "mine", but it wasn't like the house I live in now. This one was two stories tall, and we were on the second floor. It was night out. We were the only ones in the house but, while we were chillin, I could have sworn I heard my alarm chirp, downstairs, as if someone had opened one of the doors. At first, I didn't say anything about it, and thought I was just hearing things. It wasn't until we actually had to go downstairs for something, that I remembered the chirp and actually began to take it seriously.

Before leaving my room, I grabbed one of my knives. On the way down the stairs, Josh asked me why I had it, and I quietly told him that I thought I'd heard something. We crept through the living room quietly, and I looked in all the corners and behind all the objects I could. Nothing. By this time, I had reverted back to thinking it had just been my imagination. There was only one other possible hiding spot; around a corner and down a short corridor, to the other bedroom. The corridor was dark, but I was just going to peek around the corner, pretty sure that we were the only ones here.

I had let my guard down at the wrong time, though. As soon as I peeked around the corner, a shadowy figure was standing directly in front of me, pressed up against the wall, in hiding. I was completely caught by surprise. I swung the knife around, toward his chest, and he actually caught my arm by the wrist, using his other hand and immediately wrenching the knife out of my grip. Now he had the knife. Instinctively, I grabbed him in a hold, securing his knife hand with one of my own, to keep it away from me. Wrestling each other back into the living room, we struggled for control of the knife, at first. Then, I was able to take the guy to the ground and just began pummeling him in the face, with my free hand. (A lesson I've learned is that, when a weapon is involved, you always go for the attacker, and not the weapon.) Once the man was dazed, he dropped the knife, and I just started dropping bombs with both fists. Everything happened so fast that Josh just kind of stood back. While I was annihilating this guy, with punch after punch, I think Josh came by and picked up the knife, seeing that I had things under control. I don't remember much of that situation, other than leaving the guy on the ground with probably every bone in his face broken. He turned out to be just some random guy that broke into my house. Never got around to finding out whether he was just a crook or what.

The next day, Josh and I were at work, and we were talking about what had happened. I was dramatically retelling some co-workers about it, and just when I got to the part where I was raining down punches on the guy, Josh butted in and said something like "yeah, and Greg beat his ass", kind of dismissing any sort of dramatic tension I was building. I don't think he did it to be a dick, but it just came out that way.

Afterward, I remember telling him something about sticking to letting me tell the stories, from now on.