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    Mzzkc's Mind Games

    Hiya! Welcome to my inner sanctum. You'll find snacks and cookies on the left; the bathroom is on your right. Upstairs is where the scary things live. Don't go up there; I already called dibs.

    1. Mzzkc's Mind Games

      by , 08-15-2010 at 07:31 AM (Mzzkc's Mind Games)
      Eight (Non-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.