Things to Run Away From Really Fast

08/08/10

I'm part of a story in a familiar seeming place. Everything's happening out of order, events and dialogue added where I think the story needs it. As I wake up, I see the story written out on a word processor.

I wake up. As I fall back asleep, I enter HH. I'm a younger version of Dean Winchester, and there's something I still need to do. I'm still lucid, but I don't want to wake myself up, so I fall into the dream.

***

I'm a giant, fighting a tiny man as we climb up a water tower. I try to kick him off my foot, but he's holding on, trying to stab my toes.

***

I'm in prison. I'm sitting with a group of people, all handcuffed with zip-ties, our hands wound up in green mesh. My mom and dad are there, part of the dozen or so people jammed into the cell, sitting on the wooden benches where there's room.



Despite the lack of space, I'm not crowded on the bench. I'm also pretty much ignoring everyone in the room, now that the guards are gone. I'm concentrating on removing the zip-ties. I think I might have been chewing through them at some point, but with a flourish, I have them off my wrists. I hold onto the mess of plastic for a second, think about pretending I'm still trapped, but I let it fall to the floor. I'll take my chances.

Finally, we get our own cells. All of the doors are open, so I calmly walk over to the cell by the window and sit down on the bed. Originally, we were supposed to be sharing cells, but there aren't any bunk beds. There is no privacy; everything that isn't an outside wall is made of narrow bars, four inches apart. My mom takes the cell beside mine.

Lights out. A guard comes over to check that we're in bed. He stands too close, but I'm not worried. I sense no malevolence in him.

Which is fortunate, for his sake.

The guard shuffles away and I stand up, moving silently in the shadows. The locked door to my cell swings open of its own accord, and I walk, unnoticed, right out of the building.

***

I'm a hunter. Female, with long, curly black hair. I'm interviewing witnesses, trying to figure out what's going on in this town. Someone recognizes me from an earlier hunt, and claims I'm a cop.

***

Two versions of Dean Winchester sit at different tables at a restaurant. One is just barely older than the other. The younger one approaches him.

"You know, I've had a hell of a time since you got the cops after you again."

***



There are two versions of Dean Winchester, but the age difference is exaggerated. One of them is a child, and the other is an old man.

They're at the entrance of an old quanset on a farm, when I see a flash of something happening in the distance. Six plumes of light grey smoke fly from the ground and hurtle toward us.

Sam and Dean, about five and nine at the moment, are outside. A little piece of narration goes off in my head.

They're after the kids. Demons who steal away children that wander off on their own. It's part of the local folklore.

I'm hardly there at all, so the older Dean has to decide who to save: the younger Sam or the younger Dean. Of course he goes after Sam, and I stay inside, waiting, as the demons approach mini-Dean.

When they grab him, when they go hurtling through the air towards their base, I phase through the wall and take off after them.

"Omnipitus omundi patronus," I mutter to myself, sneaking into an old farmhouse. Wait, Patronus?

Just like that, I'm lucid. I smile, and crawl into the small entranceway. Bits of dust flake off of everything I touch, and I find myself crawling as the hallway gets smaller and smaller.

A woman attacks me out of nowhere. By all rights, I shouldn't be able to move in the small hallway I've wedged myself into. I won't consider myself trapped, though. I lash out, grabbing the woman by the jaw and the back of her head, and I twist.

The woman falls to the floor, her neck broken.

The house is normal sized again, and I walk into the bedroom, see the young Dean lie sprawled out over the bed. "Omnipitus omundi patronus," I repeat, but nothing happens. I sigh, and pick the boy up, ready to run him back to his brother and older self.

Claustrophobia. Scare Factor: 2.

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

I seem to have a thing for slamming people into walls. I blame Supernatural.

My partner and I were subtly infiltrating a top-secret military prison. Unfortunately, it didn't go well, and I'm currently on my own, trying to stage a massive escape.

You know you should watch out when getting in is way too easy.

I'm rushing back to the entrance, a mob of angry prisoners behind me (though I'm more worried about the guards). I come across a control panel, key in random numbers and watch the door slide open, Star Wars-style. I'm through the door, looking at a massive warehouse. The only way out is straight through the exterior wall, a solid mass of cement blocks and brick.

"Blast!" I command, letting kinetic energy tear its way from my hands. I barely even recognize that I'm saying the word. The far wall falls apart into a pile of rubble and dust, leaving only -

Another wall is behind it. Pure cement.

"Blast! Blast! Blast!" The walls keep falling down, replaced by more walls behind them. No way I'm getting out through here.

"I was hoping you'd come this way," says a menacing voice.

A giant steps out from behind the tall stacks of crates in the room. He looks like Hyde from the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen movie. He's several times taller than me, and can move freely in the gigantic warehouse.

Huh. This is kind of like that rancor level in Jedi Academy, I think to myself. I visualize the layout of the game - lots of jumping and running away, that won't work. I have to dodge as Hyde throws a few crates at me.

Now, how do I take him out? Fighting won't work, I'm too small.

Stop. You're fighting a giant during a mass breakout from an underground prison. Wake up, you moron.

I don't mean that literally.

I'm lucid. I barely have to think about it as I grow several meters taller, causing the room to seem average rather than cavernous.

Hyde is charging me. I stop his attack easily, spin him, send him flying into a wall. Chunks of mortar fall down around him.

Not a second later I'm on him, pinning him down and delivering a punch to the jaw.

Hyde has something of an inappropriate reaction to this.

Mr. Hyde. Scare Factor: 3.