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    Linkzelda's Dream Journal

    Krauser Pierces Through My Chest and Kills Me

    by , 10-07-2014 at 05:35 PM (449 Views)
    07.10.2014
    Krauser Pierces Through My Chest and Kills Me (DILD)

    NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

    Iím in a narrow hallway, and Iím encountering a dream character that resembles Krauser from Resident Evil 4. Thereís several feelings of helplessness, and the overall setting of the dream gave an impression that things wonít turn out well for me. The environment seems to be some kind of aftermath of an explosion.






    Based on the color of the ground, and the bland formatting of the building Iím in, there seemed to have been a laboratory here. Thereís bits of metal and other scraps scattered all around the area, and random combustions of fire as well.


    Whatís weird about this environment is that it was fairly wide, but the space in which I can traverse was fairly limited; almost to the point where I felt it was intentionally done so I would only focus on the Krauser DC thatís slowly coming after me.

    Thereís a bit of discrepancies in validating whether or not Iím in a dream body version of me, or some alteration between Leon. What made me convinced it was the former presumptions is that I had full reign on how I moved in the dream itself while also being able to spectate myself from a behind the back third person perspective.

    And seeking any means of escape was pretty much futile since I had to deal with him first. I knew something bad was going to happen based from personal experiences, but I still tried to defend myself from him. Naturally, I used whatever weapon I had on me at the time, which happened to be a regular pistol.

    My plan was to go along with the logic of defeating this guy in the game, which would be shooting him in the legs in hopes that he would have one knee to the ground to expose his chest for me to shoot him before he gets back up from the relapse. For some reason, zooming in on the pistols iron sights shifted to a view as if I was using a sniper rifle.


    The aiming aid consisted of a very thin white cross with some short perpendicular lines on each end; at least two for each side that seemed to have been formatted for me to get straight into focus, and maybe avoid using peripheral vision within that line of sight. The subtle smoke that wraps around the atmosphere makes things a bit blurry.


    Almost suitable for the sake of giving off the dream-esque effect where the contours of things arenít as rigid and defined. I shift my awareness from the sights back to a first person view.


    Krauser doesnít seem to look like the actual one, and has a few modifications for his visage, but with how Iím too engulfed with instincts to survive, I canít render him out in detail except for the organic like arm blade he has.


    I shoot his legs a few times, but it doesnít seem to be working at all, but I still keep shooting. Then I get a sensation around my neck and head that my weapon is about to run out of ammo. Somehow, Iím redirected to an inventory screen, and I see that Iím fairly limited in options of which weapons to utilize to assess this seemingly futile endeavor.







    I wanted to take out a grenade to see if I could cause substantial damage to him, and proceeded to do so, only to find that it doesnít really seem to scathe him. I go back to the inventory screen, and I feel thereís more options for me to use, but I felt that while Iím doing that, heíll only get closer and closer.


    Kind of like playing Five Nights at Freddyís, and you look into the camera too much, and Freddy, or one of them comes up to you and kills you the moment you take your eyes away from the camera. I keep shooting with my pistol, and I eventually run out of bullets.


    Just as I was preparing to reload, heís already close to me, grinning as he knows that any other attempts to attack him would be useless, and he uses the mutant organic arm blade of his to stab me in the chest. As heís about to do this, Iím visualizing myself in the front from a third person perspective, and I watch as my mouth opens from the pressure, along with the air around me creating some kind of gushing sound effect.


    I eventually shrivel up in my last movements and die, and blood is coming out of my mouth while the chest seems to be filled with a darker color of blood.

    Funny thing is that I was imagining a few months back of how I would fight this guy again should he ever randomly show up; thinking I would find a way to win, but ironically, expectations of what will happen in a dream doesnít always turn out to be the case, especially if one invested in a bit of time imagining themselves accomplishing whatever goals they had in mind.


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