Things to Run Away From Really Fast

We finish our coffee and the blonde conference-goer shakes my hand with a smile. I hand her my card and grin back.

The waiter walks up as the woman leaves. He leans over the table to pick up empty plates, his long hair swinging a bit as he moves, and I lean back, holding my coffee.

"These new age yoga nitwits are easy pickings," I tell him conversationally. "They'll buy anything if they think it will help them along a spiritual path."

The two of us chat for a bit, and I give the waiter my card and head out.

Perspective switch

I'm the blonde "yoga nitwit" from before. I'm looking into a mirror, changing my hair and appearance to match my character. My husband comes into the hotel room and smiles at me.

"You got him?"

"He's hooked."

Someone comes and knocks at the window of the fire escape, and my husband dives for cover so that we're not seen together.

The manager of the hotel is explaining to us that they ran out of space, so there's going to be a whole bunch of kids sharing our suite.

"That's unacceptable," I tell him or her. Their gender presentation keeps shifting.

They shrug. "You still have the bedroom. It's just the living area and the bathroom that you have to share."

I look at the line that's formed in front of the bathroom and narrow my eyes, but I can practically see the timer for our op ticking down before my eyes.

"Get out," I tell them. "I'll deal with this later."

We probably have to scrub the op.

I'm on another part of the same floor when all hell breaks loose. I'm pinned by a couple of girls from high school and a man is dumping cages full of dangerous things on me, which I'm deflecting. I break loose, wearing the guise of a brown-haired Samael.

"Get back, fiend!" says a booming voice, and Thor is swinging Mjolnir past my head. I dodge across the room, and the hammer comes flying at my stomach.

Oof. Confirming that sacred objects can still knock the wind out of you. Good thing I'm invulnerable, or this probably would have torn straight through my chest cavity. I still go flying, knocking down a wall behind me. Splinters of wood go flying everywhere, and I pick up the hammer.

Just as an enemy agent pops out with an AK-47. I'm swinging Mjolnir by its strap to ricochet the bullets back at my enemies, and then I'm letting the hammer fly—

And I throw myself through the door into the hotel room.

"Elhaz," I command, waving a hand at the wall and weaving protection into the doors and windows. Overwhelming force, meet immutable object. That should buy me a moment's peace.

I wave my hand in a pattern, more jerky than it needs to be, and glance up from the floor at Sandman's Lucifer, who's standing on this side of the door and looking at me with a nonchalant expression.

"You were supposed to be covering my back," I accuse.

I bicker with my counterpart. The two of us are the same person in different universes, or maybe opposite sides of the same coin.

---

I'm walking on the side of a highway in the mountains. A girl has stopped me to ask about backpacking, and I say that I'm just walking from inside the town to the campsite on the mountain.

"Really? I've never been there," she says.

"You should; it's the best climbing spot in the area."

My name is Honor Harrington, and I'm biking down a path in a valley. In the centre of the valley is a school, and I hop off my bike to go investigate.

I sneak in through an unalarmed pair of double doors, and look around the main floor.

The intercom is blaring something. My communications device is picking up another frequency.

Honor Harrington is there? says an alarmed voice. We can't let her get to the balcony!

The balcony. Interesting. I'd better get up there, then.

I still haven't been spotted; they just know I'm in the area. I pick the doors that I walk through and the shadows that I creep through carefully, and make it to the room by the balcony. There's a bench there, and I poke at it to find a secret compartment filled with papers; glossy, like a magazine. I feel a stab of betrayal; J at the church put them there.

I need to unravel what's going on here. But first, I need to make my escape.

---

I drive my car into the parking lot at the school and step out. It's a work night for a local club, where we all sit and chat and work on projects. I used to volunteer with them, but it's been a while since I've gone.

I'm inside, working on my project, but my hackles rise as a woman walks behind me. Apparently while I've been gone, one of the only really bad bosses that I've had has risen through the ranks of the organization. I try to ignore her, but leave soon after.

02/22/11

Three people sit around a table. Two of them are dead.

The bodies are slumped at awkward angles, twitching. Under their skin, tiny creatures mass and swarm and crawl, and at any moment, the meat-sacks will burst at the seams and the kitchen floor will be flooded with blood and tissues and squirming maggots.

A little girl sits in the third place-setting, quietly finishing her homework.

They play hopscotch on the sidewalk, and they make fun of her. They don't know what she could do to them, what she's about to do. Calling through cracks in the sidewalk, calling up all the little things that crawl.

She doesn't realize that she's raised a hand, fingers stretched out, until another hand is closing over hers and forcing her arm down. She turns and meets the cool stare and raised eyebrows, and knows that the black-clothed child is other, like her.

This "Samael" has a job offer for her, and so she follows.

Sarcophagidae. Scare Factor: 3.

★★★★☆

I've been working a lot. A lot.

12/06/10

I'm standing in my childhood bedroom, surrounded by white walls and pastel shades. None of my rooms have looked like this in years, but that's not something I notice. It seems like I'm awake - already, the fragments of previous dreams are falling away.

I hear a low hiss in the background of my mind, and I smile.

I thought I'd lost you, I admit. I tilt my head, listening to a voice only I can hear, and make a face. "Yeah, I'm not having that argument with you."

A flash of a symbol, the ouroboros, a snake in a circle, eating its own tail. I see green and black stripes, and the dream fades into another one.

"The walls between realities grow thinner by the day," she says, "And people continue to mine them for profit!"

I'm half-listening to the merchant at this point, waiting for her to hand me the items I'm buying from her brightly-coloured wooden stall. I need the monkshood for an attempt on the Guardian up in the mountains.

"One of these days," mutters the woman, "Demons will tear through from the world beyond, and our world will be without hope!"

Snake chuckles darkly, in the quiet of my mind. Too late for that.

I nod absently at the woman. I know how to close the gaps between worlds, but of course, I'm one of the demons that these people fear. "Do you know where I can find any explosives?"

Ouroboros. Scare Factor: 2.

★★★☆☆

I finally got to move away from Saskatchewan, so I'm happy about that. Haven't really been concentrating on my dreams, though.

Also, Halloween is the best holiday ever.

10/31/10



An angel and I talk economics.

"You gambled my soul away in a poker game?" Bobby growls, his voice growing louder with every syllable.

Balthazar raises his hands in a peaceful gesture, as best he can while I have him held up by the collar of his two piece suit.

break

"Look at that man over there," says Balthazar, pointing across the street. "What do you think would happen if you said to him, 'Give me your soul, and you can have anything you want in the world'?"

The sun is shining down on us; the crisp autumn breeze brushes leaves through the gutters. The man pulls his overcoat more closely around himself, hurrying his steps towards the church on Eleventh.

"He'll say no." I say in a low voice, my arms crossed over my chest.

"He'll tell you to fuck off, is what he'll do. Pop culture's done more to harm the trade than religion ever did. He probably doesn't believe he has a soul, and he still won't sign it over." Balthazar takes a breath, grins. "Look, the trick is to ask for something smaller."

The man is out of sight, now.

The trick, apparently, is to plan for the long term. Get someone to agree to a small price, a small favour in exchange for their needful thing. These agreements, they're bound to the bloodline. If the man doesn't pay back the favour, rest assured that his children will.

Chances are, we'll get our soul eventually.

break

When Dean comes to, he's leaning against a concrete wall in an underground parking garage. He doesn't know exactly where he is or what he's doing there, but he knows it can't be good.

Dean stumbles up the exit ramp, blinks a bit against the cool night air.

Click. Look up.

Sam's at the top of the ramp, pointing a gun directly at his brother.

"Sammael," says Sam Winchester, his voice cold.

Dean fades to black, and I smile up at Sam.

break

In which I try to solve a puzzle involving time travel.

Standing at the ticket counter, drumming my fingers impatiently against the arborite. The ticket-seller has my passport in her hand. She glances at the name, up at my face, at a poster I can't see behind the glass, and her face goes white. She hands me back the passport, slides two tickets under the glass, and tries not to meet my eyes. I smile and thank her, and I take my thinks and walk into the parking lot.

I open the driver's seat door to an Oldsmobile, my parents' car when I was younger, and start the engine. Zoe is sitting in the passenger seat.

"They're already onto us." I tell her. "Buses aren't running, cops'll be all over the place within an hour. We have to drive."

break

And now it's real life, and I tell Zoe I'm leaving Calgary. It's two years into the future, and I've been in one place too long.

break

"Where are we?" I demand. My voice is quiet, but the threat is there.

Daniel smiles, suddenly nervous. "This is one of the last human settlements on Earth."

"I'm waiting."

"From your point of view," he says slowly, "I suppose this is the future."

Zoe stands quietly behind me.

break

I step through the sliding metal doors, out into an oasis of footpaths and greenery, quiet places for meditation and training. Above us is a dome, given away by the subtle waves in its surface, the way it refracts the light from the bright skies above. Beyond the dome is the endless desert that the earth has become.

break

"When you say this is the future," I ask Daniel, "Exactly how far do you mean?"

He hesitates. "Well, it's been at least... it's been tens of billions of years."

He's expecting me to freak out, but I simply nod, having had my suspicions confirmed. "And physiologically, humans have remained the same for the last... tens of billions of years?"

Daniel frowns, and looks at me, searching. "Physiologically? You mean evolution."

"And there have been no significant changes." I state, daring him to contradict me. "You know what this means?"

"Someone's been breeding us."

Scare Factor: 2/10

★★★★☆

...or "Taking Over a Country in Five Easy Steps".

09/27/10



"Your son, your majesty, is a psychotic despot who's been running your country into the ground."

"And you have a solution?"

"Your youngest child went missing several years ago. You should inform your court that I have returned."

Johanna swings the sword furiously at her attacker. Her blonde hair, braided into a plait, sweeps through the air as she ducks his return attack. She's on the defensive, frantically blocking his sword, barely avoiding being cut. The man's face is expressionless as he forces her into a corner.

A slow clapping starts up from across the room. The attacker stills, and Johanna steps away, keeping her sword ready.

"Bravo," says the man on the other side of the room. "You've done extraordinarily well, getting this far."

"I'll kill you," she hisses back, not taking her eyes from the bodyguard, "For destroying my family."

"With that sword?" asks the prince, "I think not."

"I've fought my way through your legions," she pronounces, "Decimated them."

"Yes," says the prince, "But then, you had someone to protect, which is the purpose of your enchanted sword. Tell me, where is your brother?"

"He's dead," says Johanna, "Murdered by your men!" On the last word, a knife materializes in her other hand. She rushes the bodyguard, swipes down, slicing at his face.

Blood splatters against the wall, and Johanna clutches at her throat in surprise. She falls to the ground, aware that she's bleeding out. From the corner of her eye, she can see another man emerge from the shadows. Stupid, she thinks, should have realized he would have backup...

She's standing on a stone bridge, which spans the entirety of a mountainous valley. At the end of the bridge is a city. Blue spires reach up into the sky, and Johanna is dimly aware that she's looking at the Capitol City. This was her home, before everything. It's still peaceful. The sky is blue, and sunlight shines down, lighting up the valley and the mist with an ethereal glow. The valley is lush, full of greens and grains and enough food keep most of the kingdom from growing hungry. It's almost unbelievable, that such an awe-inspiring sight could hide such a great evil.

"I brought you back." I tell her.

Johanna turns to look at me. "Why?" Her face is blank, but I can hear the anguish in her voice.

"I don't think you understand," I say slowly, "I brought you back. Nothing you've endured has happened yet. Your family is still alive."

She's quiet for a moment, looking out over the blue lustre of the city in the distance. "What's the catch?"

I have to smile at that. "You can prevent all of this from happening," I say, "If you do exactly as I say."

plots to pacify the population with the latest crop of sweet potato, wading through water fields under the bridge

I'm standing in a stone building (opulence, splendor) at the centre of the city. I know the precise moment that it happens, because it feels like a string is being cut. And just like that, destiny has been rewritten. The prince is dead, long live the prince.

A cell phone chimes in my pocket. I answer on the third ring.

"Hello, 'Father'," I say, irony in my tone. "So, when is my coronation?"

Scare Factor: 3/10

Wait, wait. Your crown prince is an evil sociopath, so you want my dream self to rule instead? Good luck with that.

1. Establish yourself as an heir to the throne.
2. Find someone who wants the prince dead.
3. Bring them back in time.
4. Assassinate the prince.
5. How old was the king, again?

★★★☆☆

LUCID

If my hair keeps changing colour in the pictures, it's because that's what it tends to do IRL.

09/26/10

Fragment about going to my (late) grandma's church for a Halloween party. There were some really cool decorations. A distinct lack of alcohol, however.

I'm in the front entrance to our house. Everything seems normal, and I do a routine reality check just because. I count my fingers. Onetwothreefour... new ones start sprouting. Well, that's weird. It's almost like I'm dreaming or something.

I try again, and I get to seven before I give up. Obviously I am dreaming. So... Nomad's task. I need to get to a forest. I jump out the nearest window into the front yard. My brother is there, hanging out with a DC from the Halloween party. Definitely dreaming, then, and whoa...

The dream is destabilizing. The entire world tilts on its axis, and white lines start running parallel to every object in the scene, as they do in Assassin's Creed. I stop to take a breath, keeping my eyes open, and I start touching the objects around me. I kneel down and touch the grass, the concrete driveway, a metal railing, and I'm back.

I decide that the best way to get there is to run in a straight line. There's a forest directly to the south, I convince myself. I cross the street at a run, hit the wall with one foot, and leap onto the brown-shingled roof.

I don't stop. From the first house, I jump onto the roof of the next. Keep moving. I land on some kind of antennae, and the structure sways dangerously as I make the jump to the next structure.

I'm on a scaffold. The next building - a warehouse - is an impossible distance away, several feet higher than the platform I'm jumping from, and twenty feet away. I jump the gap, and I'm suspended in the air.

I pull at my momentum, bending the dream to allow me a few more meters in height - and I grasp the edge of the roof. I pull myself up near the chimney. On the other side of the warehouse is a big camping tent set up in someone's backyard. I jump. I land on the tent, and it cushions my fall, billowing out around me. My vision is filled with yellow and red, and I think hard, imagining the demon boy I'm supposed to rescue, and the dark thing that's after him...

The forest is oppressively quiet. I can smell the pine, feel the hot mugginess created by a recent rain. Fully immersed in my character, I stand in the center of a huge clearing, waiting.

A flash of red goes zooming by. I've found Nomad's demon boy. I'm slightly disappointed. I was hoping I could use this opportunity to discover Amon's origin (a DC I've apparently mentored throughout his life). Instead, it's just a regular demon.

He's being chased by a wolf. I recognize the creature as an entity from my childhood nightmares. It's back, and I'll have to deal with that eventually. For now, I allow the demon child to distract it.

I spot a piece of paper on the ground near a pond. Picking it up, I skim the text. Instructions from Nomad on what to do next.

Did you save the demon boy? Y/N

I look up across the clearing. The demon is running as fast as he can, frantically trying to get away from my nightmare creature. The wolf is gleefully giving chase. I'm not sure whether he's actually any danger, or if he's just toying with the demon. Either way, I have no interest in rescuing the child.

Did you propose to the barmaid? Y/N

I look at the paper, and blink. And blink again. No, WakingNomad, I did not propose to the barmaid. Although, I should pay a visit to Denn sometime in the near future.

Scare Factor: 3

Also, this result amused me.

09/19/10

"No! No! Stop!" she shouts at the bizarre figures. She's the character from last night's dream, the roommate who looks like a younger Halle Berry. The girl struggles, tries to pull away, but she's strapped into the machine by strong hands holding her down.

The black tendrils bury into her wrists and she screams. Sizzling with dark energy and blue sparks, the wires grate against every nerve, causing her pain beyond what she's ever imagined. (I feel the echo.)

She's suspended horizontally, supported only by the wires on her wrists and ankles, which string her tightly over the laboratory floor. It's pure agony.

"You should be quiet." Says one of the aliens. "If you keep screaming, we'll put you in the chambers."

Images of coffin-sized capsules, each containing a human being. The capsules are filled with a liquid which burns ("like lava," whispers one of the victims) and seems to eat away at the person inside. It's a stable chemical reaction which will last for an eternity, providing power for the alien conquerors to sustain their society.

("This is hell.")

"Nonononono..." whispers the girl, trying to ignore the pain. "I'll be quiet, please! Don't put me in there, I can be quiet!"

I come back to myself. I'm sitting cross-legged on the cold floor, and my arms are suspended by the same tendrils that are causing the other girl such pain. The wires dig into my wrists, and the blue energy sizzles through my arms. I breathe out and sink into a meditation.

"Is it broken?" One of the aliens asks, curiously.

I open my eyes. The two aliens are talking quietly amongst themselves. It's unheard of for a human to be able to withstand this particular torture for so long. It's been at least twenty-four hours since I've been put into it, and the two beings in front of me seem to think that it's broken my mind.

I'm not, of course, human.

My possible futures flash before me. In one, I collaborate with the aliens and facilitate the destruction of the human race. Eventually, I'll destroy the conquering civilization itself, and move on to the rest of the galaxy. In a few futures, I'll lead humanity in a rebellion, with varying degrees of success.

I don't pick one. Instead, I play through each of them, living through each possibility until the point that all life in the universe is destroyed.

It never takes long.

Scare Factor: 5/10
Rating: 6/10

Some quick backstory, for context.

Selina is a girl I knew in high school. She showed up once in a previous dream. The two of us never spent much time together, but we got along fine. From what I remember, Selina is a very nice person.

Jesse, I also went to high school with. We didn't get along, and though we're distantly related (small towns, eh?), we really don't share any of the same viewpoints. At all.

I met Zoe Killion a few years ago, at a fine arts-related event. We've been friends ever since. She has a younger sister, whose name is (not really) Ava.

This dream relates to Nomad's RPG. Vaguely.

09/18/10



The good of one, versus the good of many.

We are in a forest, surrounded by tall, black-barked trees. The edges of the clearing are choked with thick underbrush, and the lilac leaves and tall grasses tickle against the back of my t-shirt. The sky is streaked with the orange of the setting sun, which is hidden by the trees ahead of me.

The group is gathered in a large circle, sitting cross-legged on the ground and facing inwards. I look around the circle, cataloging each face. I know all of these people. All of them are my age, and they're from all over the world, these people I've met in waking life.

We've been stranded here, I realize.

"It'll be one of them," says Jesse, pointing at me and - Zoe, sitting to my left. "Look at you two! Your spots are right next to the forest! Anything could come by and grab you."

I'm lucid, not even feeling the need for a reality check. I frown. I can feel the dark, wolf-like presence lurking in the shadows behind me. Wordlessly, effortlessly, I call up a wall of mirrors on the other side of the clearing, confident that I'll be able to see the creature coming.

I recognize the mirrors as a part of Nomad's first task, and I decide to stay here to play out the rest of the game. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror: short blond hair, black clothes... everything gets a little fuzzy.

Who cares about the many? I just don't want it to be -

"- anyone," says Zoe, a bit sharply. "All we've been told is that one of us is going to die."

"And if that happens," says Jesse, "Then the rest of us will be safe until tomorrow night!"

Half of the table stands up at these words, shouting at each other. They're leaning across the round, stone table, ready to escalate into violence.

The sunset is fading into darkness.

Selina is standing up, ready to play the mediator. To get everyone to calm down, and work together, and I see my opportunity.

I squeeze a hand into a fist under the table, and Selina collapses, dropping to the ground like a marrionette whose strings have been cut. Her internal organs have been liquefied, some of her bones have been ground into dust, and I'm pretending to panic along with the rest, pushing through the crowd as someone yells "WHAT HAPPENED!" and "Did you see?" and I'm pressing two fingers against her carotid artery, checking for a pulse that I know won't be there.

"She's dead." I say quietly, and the faces around me reflect both horror and relief.

The rules don't apply to monsters.

I twist open the back door on a blue van, crawling in the back to reach for a case. It's orange, and the outside is covered in foam. My fingers sink into it as I lock it, latch it, make sure nothing is going to open it by accident.

"Everyone's still trying to figure out what happened," says a voice from behind me.

I crawl out of the van, resting the case upright on the bumper.

"I mean, one second she was alive, you know?" says Ava, rubbing her left arm with her other hand. "Everyone thinks it was something supernatural, a new kind of monster from the forest."

"It probably was." I say.

"That's the briefcase." Ava nods at the orange case I'm holding. "The one that'll kill us if we go near it. So, it's safe now?" She makes a grab for it.

"Don't touch that!" I snap, hitting her hands away. Idiot, of course it will still kill you! It's just that nothing is going to attack you outright - at least for now.

I slam the door shut on the van, and walk away from the camp, still carrying the orange case so I can hand it over to my employer.

I'm on no side but my own.

"We're leaving!" says the Matron as she paces the inside of her ship, the flowing fabric of her dress trailing behind her. "Get the rest of the crew."

"And the survivors?" I ask.

The Matron growls. "I meant to capture all of them, but we're on a deadline."

I nod, and turn to leave.

"If you should happen across Miss Killion, of course," says the Matron coldly, "Bring her to me."

I pass Ava as I leave the ship. She has her arms crossed, and is guarding the gangplank. She winks at me, and I allow myself a small smile.

I'm certainly not on yours.

I hit the drunk crewman over the back of the head with a bottle. It shatters over him and he collapses to the ground, dead weight. His equally drunk friend, who was about to attack me, looks from the unconscious man to the razor-sharp bottle neck in my hand. The man stumbles away, apologizing, and promising to go back to the ship.

I sigh, and pick up the unconscious man, swinging him into a fireman's carry over my shoulders. I turn to Zoe and nod in the direction that the man just ran in. We start walking.

"So let me get this straight," says Zoe. "We're working with the bad guys. Who want to kill me."

"Because the Matron has the only transportation off the island."

"Who wants to kill me."

"She won't," I say, grinning.

You really should have seen this coming.

"You can't touch her." I say. I'm feeling gleeful, and I'm sure that I'm radiating an air of smugness that's setting the Matron on edge. Well, that and the fact that I stole away her first prize in manipulation.

"You can't do this." She hisses.

Except that I can. If I own Zoe's soul, the Matron can't touch her. I would be obliged, even within all of the complicated truces and agreements we have with one another, to pay back any harm threefold.

I don't actually own Zoe's soul. But the Matron's not about to question my integrity. She has too much to lose.

The Matron's sulking is so pronounced that I have to laugh. "I'm the devil!" I tell her, "Did you really think that I wasn't after anything for myself?"

Scare Factor: 4/10
Rating: 7/10

My imagination is running away with itself.

08/20/10



The setting is a town in a post-apocalyptic landscape. The few remaining adults are being picked off one by one, killed by things they can't even see. The surviving children are being drawn towards the town hall, where a dark force promises them protection.

I follow the point of view of a little girl whose father is killed in front of her. We don't see what kills him, but his arm explodes suddenly in a fountain of blood, and she's running, tripping, looking for somewhere she can be safe.

She crawls through the wreckage and finally finds them. A dozen or more children are gathered, underground, in a circular concrete bunker. In the center of the group is a demon, an inhuman little imp that looks especially pleased with itself.

It calls itself the Devil.

- time skip -

The children are running.

I materialize in the first person, cornering the creature as I do. It cowers as I place my hands on the concrete wall, one hand on each side of its head, boxing it in.

"Do you know," I ask conversationally, "How many lives I've been through? How many times I've done the same things over and over again?"

- faces i'm too close to fighting a war that doesn't mean anything hand to hand combat a peaceful mountain landscape and i'm teaching them to kill -

"You don't have any idea," I say, meeting the thing's terrified eyes and smiling widely, "What Hell is."

End recall.

Scare Factor: 4/10
Rating: 6/10

The quote's more or less verbatim. I get a bit too caught up in my characters sometimes. Also, flashbacks can be incredibly freaky.

I'm baaack.

Originally Posted by #1. First Appearances

It's dark, and I'm surrounded by beautiful, frightening living statues made of shadow... twisted, slender, lethal. I want to remember them when I wake up, because they're mine.

08/26/10



The Monster of the Week gets in over its head.

This dream takes place in my old apartment building in Ixburg. The suite is a floor down from where I actually used to live, and it's been refitted with giant windows. It has a balcony with a fire exit, and the place is spacious and airy. Which is fortunate, because I live there with a group of people, and we're all sleeping together.

I'm alone in the bedroom when I see it. A presence has been on the edges of my consciousness for a while now, and it finally coalesces into a physical form. It's a black statue, shiny and carved out of something like obsidian or onyx. It's vaguely humanoid, but it's a simplified form. It has a somewhat bulbous head, but the rest of it is sleek, almost liquid.

Time speeds up, and I watch life continue in fast-forward. The other people in the apartment don't notice the statue at all. I have the feeling that it's been there for some time, and the fact that I can see it now means nothing good.

Ignoring the others going about their day, I stand up from the bed and walk over to the statue. It's immobile, but I can feel a dark presence.

It's moving. The statue bends an arm back, quick as lightening, and stabs forward. My mouth falls open in an involuntary gasp, and I see myself being impaled on the thing's arm, its hand reaching out through my lower back. I come to the sudden, horrible realization that I'm a sacrifice, and the only person who lives here that meets the requirements. Golden white light streams into my vision, claiming everything, and I feel myself fall back, completely detached from my physical form.

It's like being in the blue-white light from previous dreams, but this feels more like home, more a part of myself. I'm searching for something, cataloguing information that my conscious mind can't comprehend. And I feel it.

The "statue" exists before me as an infinitesimal dark speck, a mote of dust. The thing before me, the spirit inside the statue, I reach out - no, I don't even have to reach out. Just by existing in this state, I snuff out its tiny little black soul.

The light falls away, and I'm left standing in the apartment, completely intact. The dark presence is gone, and I allow myself a glimmer of satisfaction.

There's a reason they call me the Lightbringer.

Mugging the Monster. Scare Factor: 2.

08/11/10



I'm travelling through a village. Their level of technology seems medieval at best. A little girl is suspected of being a witch. I help her escape.

We wander up a path through an idyllic countryside, hilly and covered in green. I lead and the girl, ten or so, trails slightly behind me. The hinges of the wooden gate creak as they move, and I hold the gate open. The girl shrieks in delight and runs onto the field. A dark brown horse is running towards us. It has odd, light-coloured streaks painted across its side. As it approaches the girl, it slows down. The girl jumps up and down, asking if she can ride it.

"He doesn't like anyone, even me." I say, studying the horse. I smile when the horse snorts. "Especially me. I think he might like you, though."

The girl climbs on the horse's back, and the two of them gallop across the fenced enclosure.

Later, we're sitting inside a log cabin that resembles a barn. The black horse is now a black owl, perched on a railing. I sit across from him, and we watch the girl explore the building as we talk. She runs back over to us, smiling as she sits down on the couch.

"We're going to have to winter-proof the house if she's going to stay with you." I tell the owl seriously.

The girl turns into a bird. I catch the bundle of feathers between my hands, gently. "You are far too domesticated." I tell her.

I will the cracks in the wall to close, making the wood grow back together, sealing out the wind.

It's winter the next time I return to the cabin. We play on the hill, sliding down packed snow and laughing.

Shapeshifting Children. Scare Factor: 1.

Behold, my massive HvZ/Star Wars/Fable/White Collar/Inception/Supernatural/Good Omens crossover dream. Includes characters from Inception, but no spoilers.

08/01/10

My brother and I are sneaking into our cousins' house, playing a game of what amounts to Humans vs. Zombies, but with more humans trying to "kill" each other.

My aunt catches us in the house. Her face is red and she attempts to loom over us threateningly. "You're trespassing, you know."

"I don't think that's against the rules." Ben says, considering.

"But we are sorry. Truly, sincerely sorry," I lie. "Really. We should go."

***



I look around. I'm in a mountainous region surrounded by pillars of ice and concrete bunkers. I'm close to the top of a mountain, on a snowy path.

I pull out my phone and look at it. If Hazel's speed dial "8", I could probably reach my brother the same way. I press "1".

The line picks up.

"Hey, Ben. What the hell happened to you?"

"Kkkshhk...separated...zombies...meet up...later."

The line goes dead.

I shrug, knowing that Ben can take care of himself. I look out over the snowy plains, at once clouded and sunny. It looks like a video game environment. Paths leading to certain places, all of the corners rounded and indistinct... If I didn't know any better, I'd say I was on Hoth.

"Hands in the air," says a voice, crackling and metallic.

I turn around slowly, pasting a smile onto my face.

***



Leaning against the concrete wall of the control room, I remain nonchalant as two of the guards keep their weapons trained on me. I was surprised when I realized that they weren't Stormtroopers, and weren't Rebels either. The group that I've let myself be captured by are dark-siders of a different sort, and I haven't yet figured out who they're working for.

The human male in the corner is force sensitive, but not trained. He has short black hair, plain dark clothing, and is probably in his late teens. He's either looking at me with distrust or he's sulking over the pot of cold coffee on the counter. I haven't decided.

The apparent leader is a female Zabrak. Her dark hair is cut in a short bob, and she's going through my personal effects. Finally, she picks up my dual lightsabers in each hand. I shift my weight to my other foot. One of the guards hisses a breath and clutches at his weapon tightly.

"Twitchy, twitchy." I say, eyeing the terrified guard. "Someone could get hurt."

"I'd be careful, Jedi," the leader hisses at me, still holding my lightsabers. "We have you at a disadvantage."

"Do you really?" I ask, amused. I motion with my hand. On the other side of the room, the coffee pours upward into the air, forming an amorphous blob and flying into the face of the sulking teenager. The boy starts to curse, but the woman in front of me barely seems to notice.

"There's very little difference between the Jedi and the Sith."

"You're telling me." I say, "One of those lightsabers is red, you know."

A blood-curdling roar is unleashed from outside. The bunker shakes from its very foundations. Outside in the darkness, I can sense the fury of the beast, aimed at the creatures encroaching on its territory. Us.

"I wonder what happened to the Imperials that built this station." I say quietly, meeting the eyes of the leader.

My dual sabers are in my hands and light up in the next instant, glowing red and blue (and I'm my female Exile character from KOTOR 2). The woman raises her hands. I watch as the blades are folded up into sheets of blunt metal, and look at the woman mournfully.

"You are no fun at all," I say, yanking a pistol from a guard across the room. "Try not to die."

I see a flash of red through the blinding snowstorm. I aim my pistol and shoot three times before it disappears. I hear a roar through the storm, and can barely see the outline of the monster's arms raised into the air before I'm dashing across the arena, dodging the cracks that appear in the ground.

***

"Coffee?" I ask brightly, pushing a cup towards the teenager. He scowls but takes the cup.

"That was a mean trick," he says, "I like coffee."

"No, messing with someone's lightsaber, that's a mean trick." I pause, "The coffee was just funny."

He's still angry, but he seems to be hiding a smile as well.

"Master Kenobi. In my study, you will meet me," says a voice over my comlink.

"Of course, Master Yoda."

Yoda shows me over to a glass case filled with crystals and gemstones. He motions me to look at them. I find myself drawn to a black piece of rock the size of my palm, smooth and glassy, with waves rippling over the surface. I stare at it, intrigued, and look back at Yoda for permission.



He nods.

I feel for the orange piece of Carnelian in my left pocket, reassured when it's still there. Turning my attention back to the shelf, I pick up the rock carefully, touching it only with my fingertips, and turn it to lie flat on my palm.

I breathe in, allowing the power in the stone to ground me. I feel...

"There's a darkness to this," I say, as if I'm in a trance. "It has a history with death, it's beautiful, it feels cool, the temperature, I mean. I can feel it echoing through me... ignacious, born of fire and now... cold, complete, rational -"

"Back on the shelf, you should put it," says Yoda sharply.

I set the rock back on the shelf, drawing a shaky breath. I want to pick up the rock again, feel for the green crystal that I know should be there, break it in two and give the other half to the person who should have it... Stop it, you're supposed to be Obi-Wan.

"See, you do, the power inherent in these crystals." Yoda says, "Yours, one of them will be, should you take on an apprentice."

I smile, leaning against one of the white walls. I'd wondered why the force-sensitive teenager felt so familiar. Amon?

I shake myself. "We have a mission," I say reprovingly, "Are you trying to distract me, Master Yoda?"

"Hmph. Dream of it, I wouldn't."

***





I take on the guise of Neal Caffrey, all smiles and warm handshakes as we bluff our way into Saito's mansion. Ariadne and Scott Summers back me up, along with four men and women in suits that follow us demurely.

Our whole group is surrounded by Saito's bodyguards, and my companions are feeling intimidated, grouping together until they're nearly touching elbows. I pretend not to notice, and focus on the conversation with Saito as he shows us around his mansion.

We stop by the swimming pool. We're more or less openly flirting right now, and I'm drawing on the Neal Caffrey personality in order to distance myself and appear more outgoing. My form is flickering now, male to female and back again, through half a dozen personalities before settling back on Neal. No one seems to notice.

I fall into the water, pleased to feel the shock of cold on my skin. It feels wonderful, and I let myself sigh in pleasure before I force myself to concentrate. I climb the steps up onto the deck, my clothes holding none of the moisture.

Saito is yelling at his guard for jostling me, and apologizes. I tell him not to worry, but that I need to talk to my doctor, as I may have broken one of my ribs. The man points out the change rooms on the other side of the pool.

"Doctor?" I say, holding out an elbow for Ariadne. She looks surprised, but catches herself and nods. She threads her arm through mine and we walk towards the change rooms.

"Doctor?" she hisses.

"It's improv, Ariadne." I say, smiling. "Just go with it."

We round the corner and Ariadne steps away, brushing at her arm. I flirt with her as she touches my temples, exposing the wiring there.

"I need to upload the schematics to your mind," I tell her, "So that I can stay behind while you get Xavier the information."

"And why is it you're staying behind?" She asks, skeptical.

"There's something bigger going on here," I say quietly. "I need to convince Saito I'm on his side. You get the others out, and I'll figure out what's going on."

Ariadne steps back, nodding reluctantly.

I decide to give Cyclops the information, since his visor will work as a direct transference point into his temples. (What?) A quick shock, and he's ready to head back home.

***

"Not so fast," says Saito.

We're standing outside in a courtyard, surrounded by enemies. The DCs in business suits are entirely useless, and for some reason, I have to keep them alive. Guards have automatic weapons trained on us, and I'm practically staring down one of the barrels as I raise my hands slowly, ready to talk my way out of this. Ariadne shoots me a look, clearly worried. Cyclops is ready to start a fight.

Saito is overconfident. I can use that, but I need to get the others away first. I need Yoda and Xavier to owe me a favour, dammit, and that isn't going to happen if I get their people killed.

Bright white light explodes from the far end of the courtyard, and a shockwave knocks the guards to the ground and disarms them. Not limited by human sight, I swing around to face the four pillars of light materializing on the ground before us. One of the pillars is wreathed in red flames that fan outward, scorching the earth around it.

The light coalesces into four human figures, three of them standing in a ring behind their leader.

He is never going to let me live this down.

"Castiel." I greet him, but the angel is already barking orders to the other three, sending them into the fray to grab my people and transport them back to the compound. Ariadne catches my eye as she disappears, and I can see all of the questions written across her face.

Until the only ones left standing are me, Saito, and Castiel. I let my false face fall away, and I turn to say something to Saito.

The dream fades.

Mansions of Silence. Scare Factor: 3.

Looks like Castiel and I are 1:1 for rescues.

Apparently, this dream follows directly after #118. Also, I'm stealing titles directly from Mike Carey's Lucifer.

07/26/10

Sam and Dean want to kill the devil. I "help".

Sam climbs into the passenger seat of the Impala and slips on the pair of sunglasses resting on the dash. He lets his head fall back onto the seat and rubs his temples. (I marvel over the strange purple glow of our surroundings.) The driver's side door slams shut, and he lifts up his head. Dean has his hands clenched tight on the steering wheel, and stares into the desert horizon with his jaw clenched. Frustration seems to roll off him in waves.

They're back on the road before either of them says anything.

"So," says Dean, "We can either drive to Death Valley, or fly to the Himalayas." His tone makes it clear what he thinks of the idea.

"Death Valley's closer."

Dean raises his eyebrows, "With our luck, do you really think the devil managed to stay stateside?"

"I'd rather go to the Himalayas, personally." I say.

The car almost lurches off the road. Dean twists around in his seat to look at me. "Don't do that."

"We have wooden stakes in the trunk." Sam says mildly. "Trickster."

"When has that ever worked?" I ask. "Anyway, why are we going to the Himalayas?"

"We're not." growls Dean. His eyes are back on the road.

"We're trying to kill the devil." Sam says reasonably.

"Oh," I say, nodding along. "Why?"

"You know," says Dean, "Prevent the apocalypse, save humanity, that kind of thing?"

"There's a system of doors in Tibet that lead into other worlds. A psychic we talked to said that Lucifer left traces in the mountains that are somehow tied to these portals."

"The Nevernever." I say. "Yeah, we should check it out. Keep an eye out for vegan faeries."

"Right, I'm sure they're vicious little buggers," says Dean.

"Oh, they are. Somehow, human flesh satisfies the parameters of their diet."

***

"Nice office," says Dean, flopping gracelessly onto a black leather chair. He puts his feet up onto the desk. Bits of dirt flake off of his shoes onto the polished surface, and I hide a grin.

Sam just looks annoyed.

"Most of the objects in this room move along certain paths," I say, "Like levers. Get the right arrangement and the door will open right up."

"Unless, of course, you know a shortcut." The voice is British, and female, and I turn around to study her.

"Bela." says Dean. "Back from Hell already?"

"Someone had a job for me," she says, holding up a gun and pointing it at him, "And I am very good at my job." She smiles. "By the way, you might want to hurry. I informed security you were here."

Our eyes are drawn to the other hallway, where we hear a door click open. I look back. Bela's gone.

"God-fucking-dammit," says Dean.

"You figure out the combination," I say. "I'll distract him."

I stride into the hallway without looking back. Standing there, looking livid, is a man in a business suit. He's big and round, and his hair is white where he still has any. He slams the door behind him.

"Do you know who I am?" says the man, furious, "Do you know what I could do to you?" He pulls out a gun and points it at me.

"Not much?" I say, pretending to consider. "Relax. We need your door to the Nevernever, and then we'll be out of your hair."

"Impudence!" He snarls, "Just like my youngest son! I'll have you all killed!" He starts ranting about his plan to have me implicated in a gay affair with his son, followed by an elaborate murder-suicide.

I peer around the corner into the main office, since he's not actually paying much attention to me. Like I'd hoped, the Winchesters are gone. I turn back to the man, who by this time is ranting incoherently. I cough politely, hoping to get his attention.

He stops, panting.

"While that's a very... impressive evil plan (and you wouldn't have much trouble framing those two for anything) there is one tiny little flaw."

"And what is that?"

"I don't die."

The old man laughs and raises his hand - only to realize that he's no longer holding the gun. He freezes in shock and I wave a hand, banishing the Corrupt Corporate Executive to the late 51st century. He really won't like it there.

I take Bela's shortcut into the Nevernever, circumventing the need to play with furniture again. I appear at the top of a cliff covered in vegetation, which overlooks a hotel swimming pool and hot tub.

Sam and Dean stand on one side of the pool, facing off against Bela on the other side. I look for a way down, but there isn't one. I resign myself to jumping the fifteen-odd meters, knowing that there's no way for the fall to hurt me. I aim for the tile floor -

Only to land on the very edge of the pool. My feet impact the edge of the tile floor and slip off the edge into the water. I grit my teeth, feeling my dream-body reset itself, and I pull myself back onto the deck.

"You okay?" Asks Sam.

"Fine," I say, standing up and composing myself. "I don't die, as a rule." I notice Dean's weapon is trained on Bela. "Neither will she, you idiot."

As if in response, Bela spits a gob of blood onto the tile.

"Oh," I say, "They gave you a time limit."

"Apparently we're looking for different things," she says, her voice low, "Don't get in my way." She turns around and disappears into the cave system on the other side of the room.

There's a collective breath of relief.

"So," I say, turning to the boys, "Did you have a plan?"

"Find the devil," says Dean, "Shoot him in the head?"

"So, where is the devil?" asks Sam.

"I don't know," I lie with a shrug, "You guys said you wanted to go to the Himalayas."

"You said the devil came here!"

"It's what I'd do," I say innocently. "Anyway, plane tickets are in Sam's backpack. I have to run."

When I disappear, Dean is looking a little green.

***

I find him in a warehouse, beside a cracked-open wooden crate. Empty green wine bottles litter the ground, and Castiel himself - back in his original vessel - is sprawled out on the ground, leaning against the box. He has a half empty wine bottle in one of his hands.

I appear next to the crate, eyeing Castiel thoughtfully. I grab a full bottle and sit down on the concrete, popping the cork with a thought. Castiel's eyes roll up to look at me.

"Bad day at the office?" I ask, clinking my bottle of wine against his.

His face twists into a frown. "Being rescued by Lucifer didn't exactly set me up for a promotion."

"Well, I'd tell you they'll get over it," I say, taking a sip of wine, "But this is Heaven we're talking about. That lot can hold a grudge into eternity."

Castiel snorts. "You're not helping."

"Should I?" I ask, genuinely curious. "You wouldn't accept any advice from me. I'm the Deceiver, after all."

Castiel is quiet for a long time. I go steal chocolate bars from another section of the warehouse.

A Dalliance with the Damned. Scare Factor: 3.

WakingNomad provided the narration for the warehouse scene. Somehow. I think Microsoft Word was open in another window while I was experiencing the scene itself.

Also, I've somehow rewritten Season 4 of Supernatural subconsciously. So yeah.

P.S. I make up most of my dialogue. I don't remember the exact wording, so I improvise. I am a vile, evil attention-monger, I tell you.

I feel like I'm writing bad fanfiction subconsciously. I find it interesting that in the past two months I've had several dreams that carry on from previous ones.

Also, more Lucifer.

07/23/10

Castiel gets captured. I offer to help with the rescue.

"Let him go, you bitch!" I shout.

"Oh, Dean," says Lilith. "You don't understand. You've already lost."

I hate losing.

I throw myself back through the dream, back through the sewers that lead to the Hellmouth, zooming back over flooded streets and abandoned rafts and into a warehouse that I fought my way through not long ago.(1)

I arrive before Sam and Dean Winchester ever found themselves ambushed here, taking up precious time in our search. I can't afford that loss again.

A man is kneeling on the floor at the center of the warehouse. His face and arms are bare, and I can see designs swirling everywhere on his exposed flesh in patterns of black and blue. The tattooed man paints symbols on the floor, dipping his fingers into a wooden bowl filled with something red and sticky.



"Damian Masters." I say tonelessly. My voice reverberates through the building. Damian stands up, startled, and I step out of the shadows.

"Who are you?" He rasps, panicked.

"Have you ever heard the name 'Samael'?" I ask him.

He shakes his head.

"I'm an angel." I manage to say it with a straight face.

Damian falls to the ground and bows his head. I try not to let my irritation show. "What can I do?"

"We have need of Dean Winchester," I say importantly. "Allow him to leave. Kill the other one."

"Of course," he breathes, "The boy with the demon blood."

I walk across the room, deliberately scuffing the blood sigil where it won't be noticed. I roll my eyes. "So mote it be." I say in a mocking tone.

***

Dean steps onto the oversized raft, stumbling a little as it bobs under his weight. He turns around and catches the knife Sam throws at him. He breathes out slowly once he catches his balance again. (2)

"Watch it, Sam. I don't want to go diving for this stuff." He rubs his eyes and sighs. "Be careful."

"You're doing the dangerous part," says Sam, rolling his eyes. "I'm just casting the spell here because it's on the right ley lines."

"Other people thought so, too," warns Dean. "That blood on the floor still looks fresh."

"Get on with it, Dean. Castiel's not getting out of Hell on his own."

Dean unties the rope from the pier and casts off, sending his brother a sarcastic two-finger salute. Sam grins and salutes back. He only watches Dean drift off for a moment, carried by the current through the flooded city. He picks up a canvas bag and spreads its contents over a table, ready to start the ritual.

He gets so caught up in his task that he almost ignores the little warning voice that goes off in his head. He dodges to the side as a fireball slams into the table, sending his ritual ingredients up in flames. Sparing no time for disappointment, he runs over to where the guns should be, only to find them... gone.

He turns around to face the other man. The tattooes on his face and arms, Sam thinks, they probably let him manipulate energy. The man's face is twisted into a triumphant grin, and Sam looks down, realizing he's at the center of the blood sigil on the floor. The tattooed man raises a hand, covered in glowing swirls, and presses it to the concrete.

***

His raft floats through the flooded city, guided by a spellbound current. The shadows of buildings jut out of the water, reaching toward the orange sky as if in their death throes. Barnacles cling to the rotting and rusting wood and steel. Some of the buildings have collapsed in on themselves, leaving twisted metal sitting low to the water. Dean steers carefully around them.



"Dean Winchester, yeah?"

Dean spins around with the knife raised. "Yeah? And who are you?"

The boat tips a little, and I look back at him, unimpressed. "I'm here to help," I say with a smile. "You can call me Lucy. Things will get confusing, otherwise."

"Really. Okay, Lucy," says Dean, "Why should I trust you?"

"You probably shouldn't," I tell him honestly, "But I owe Castiel a favour, and I pay my debts."

Dean eyes me suspiciously, but he lowers the knife.

"Excellent." I say. "Now, we have a problem."

"Of course we do."

"Castiel's vessels have gone missing."

"His vessel? The guy he's possessing?"

"The daughter as well. You haven't met them yet?"(3) I receive an uncomprehending stare as my answer. "Whatever. He needs a vessel, and you're it." A pause. "Don't look at me like that, it's only temporary."

"Why not you?" asks Dean, "That'd be a good way to pay back your 'debt', wouldn't it?"

"How many humans do you know that can teleport onto a raft in the middle of nowhere?" I ask impatiently. "I'm an occupied vessel; it doesn't work that way."

Dean is silent as I latch onto the decorative post of a balcony and bring the raft to a stop. "We're hee-ere," I sing-song quietly, stepping onto the concrete deck. Dean shoots me a look, hand hovering near the gun concealed under his jacket.

We step through the archway, into a cobblestone hallway filled with rot and mold. Dean's nose scrunches in distaste, but I can't smell anything. A rusted metal ladder is built into the opposite wall, and I make a motion towards it. Be my guest.

Dean eyes the ladder. "I thought we were going into the sewers."

"We are." I confirm. Dean looks at me askance, and I roll my eyes. "We're walking towards a gateway to Hell! You can't expect reality to work properly."

Dean makes a disbelieving noise, but moves to the ladder and starts climbing up it. I follow a few seconds behind, looking up to track Dean's progress.

Wow. Those are some really nice jeans.

Climbing up brings us a level down, and we trudge through muddy water and orange-lit brick until we find an opening in the wall. Dean and I stand on either side of it, catching our breath and shaking out our shoes.

"Are you ready?" I ask. "Lilith's on the other side."

"Ready as I'll ever be." Dean shoots me a grin. We step through the opening.

It's bright. The gateway is orange-white, shedding the room with stark light and bleaching out the red brick. Lilith stands near the doorway, hands clasped loosely over her white dress. Her blonde hair flutters in a non-existant breeze.

I squint against the light. "Claire Novak?" I say incredulously. "Oh, irony of ironies. Nice one, Lilith."



The little girl smiles pleasantly. "I thought it was fitting, using an angelic vessel as my own." She holds a hand up to the light, studying her fingers. "It was actually quite simple to burn out the angelic protections."

"You're borrowing from Azazel." I muse, "His bastardising the Winchester line."

"Demon blood," snaps Dean. "Can we get on with it? If this is a seal, what did you need an angel for?"

"An angel?"

"Castiel." I supply helpfully.

Lilith laughs, her voice clear and deceptively innocent. "Oh, of course," she says, "Heaven has him, and I have no more need of opening seals. Lucifer walks the earth."

"What?"

"Castiel's superiors were unhappy with his exercising free will," I state calmly. "They're currently re-educating him."(4)

Dean rounds on me. "Whose side are you on?"

"Huh. Good question. I'm still going to need at least one of the vessels." I say to Lilith.

"Can we go back to the bit where Lucifer is free?"

"Dean, your presence is extraneous at the moment," I say, tilting my head sideways as I look at Lilith's teenage meatsuit. "Shut up."

Dean looks about ready to hit me, but I wave a hand and he collapses.

"My lord?" says Lilith carefully.

"Not today." I say, "Tell me, what is it you're after?"

"The end of all things." She responds immediately. "The apocalypse, which you are destined to bring about." (5)

I smile as I approach her. "Destiny," I say, placing a hand on her head, "Is bullshit."

Lilith's demonic form - grey and wispy and spiralling out of control - is forced out of Claire Novak's body. The light grey smoke hurtles toward the Hellmouth, screaming. It stills a second, pulling with all its might against the vortex, before succumbing to the orange-white light, falling back into Hell. The gate closes, dousing the room in shadow.

I will definitely regret doing that at some point.

I push the thought from my mind. In the next moment, I'm pulling on an incorporeal thread, tearing Castiel away from the torments of Heaven and back into human form. Blinding white light fills the room once more, before focusing on the girl.

Castiel opens her eyes.

"Lucifer," she says magnanimously.

I grin. "Hey, Cas. You should probably go rescue your other vessel. And Sam Winchester. Dean's fine," I say, seeing Castiel look over at the unconscious man.

There's an awkward pause.

"Why did you -"

"You let me go." I say, "Now we're even." (6)

I disappear without another word.

Castiel stares at the spot for a moment, before going over to Dean and tapping him on the forehead.

***

When Castiel appears back at the warehouse, supporting a groggy Dean Winchester, Sam is leaning against a table with his arms crossed, facing the tattooed man. The man is currently trussed up and tied to a chair, his head lolling at an awkward angle. Sam doesn't take his eyes off him.

"Who the hell is this guy?" Dean demands, inconspicuously taking his weight off of Castiel's shoulders.

"I have no idea," says Sam, "He attacked me, tried to activate a blood sigil." In response to Dean's worried look, Sam shrugs. "It didn't work," he says, "The outer circle was broken."

"Well, that was lucky," says Dean, sounding suspicious. "Anyway, we've got bad news. Cas?" He looks around, only to realize that Castiel is already gone. "Damn it."

Devil in the Gateway. Scare Factor: 4.

1. This dream continued on from a previous one that I don't properly recall. I think I was Dean. Sam and I fought Masters, the tattooed man in the warehouse, but it slowed us down considerably. Sam still stayed behind to do the ritual, but it completely screwed things up for us. When I replayed the dream, I kept Masters from attacking Dean, and sabotaged the ritual at the same time. I think.

2. A good portion of this dream was in the third person. My character wasn't spying so much as I was watching cutscenes.

3. Supernatural 4x20 "The Rapture", which aired over a year ago. We meet Castiel's human host, Jimmy Novak, and his family. Claire, the daughter, is briefly possessed as well.

4. Actually happened in the TV series. Same episode.

5. This was Lilith's motivation in Mike Carey's Lucifer comic series.

6. I can't believe I remembered that. According to this dream, Castiel let me beat him in our last fight. I resent the implication.

In other complaints, why is teleporting so easy during non-lucids?

Also, I haven't been online much for the past couple of weeks. Summertime! I'll do my best to get caught up with everyone's DJ entries.

Saturday, July 3, 2010

I'm attacked by alligators. Then I try to figure out why I'm still in high school.



I have to swim through a swamp. On the edges are various plants and animals, frozen by the cold, black goo that touched them. I stay in the center of the slow-moving creek. Something feels off.

I see an alligator, panic for a moment. I realize that it's frozen, too. I turn away, relieved.

There's another one before me. It's alive. I can't out-swim it. I can't get to shore fast enough.

It charges, and I let it swim straight through my submerged stomach. Teeth tear into my flesh and the water turns red, but I don't feel it. The alligator is distracted now. I latch onto its back and hold on. The alligator thrashes underwater, submerging us both.

I step out of the water some time later. My mom comes rushing over, wanting to know if I'm all right.

I assure her that I am, and lift up the fabric of my shirt to see that the wound has healed over entirely, leaving no scars.

---

A dream takes me from Ixburg to Halifax and back again. I'm in high school and university at the same time, and my kindergarten teacher is very disappointed when I miss my driving lessons.

"What, you want me to fly home for the weekend?" I ask my mom incredulously.

She does.

I hide out in my studio with my brother and Matt, who ask why I wasn't at (high) school today.

"Cough. Cough. I'm sick." I say flatly.

Alligators. Scare Factor: 3.