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    Mzzkc's Mind Games

    Mzzkc's Mind Games

    by , 04-02-2011 at 06:18 AM (664 Views)
    1.4.2011
    Ruined (Non-lucid)
    ★★★★★
    NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID







    With gusto, I sprint across the cool, black asphalt, brown sneakers propelling me forward with every pounding step. The horde looms in the distance, row upon row of agile, intelligent zombies. Knowingly, I dash forward, weaving through cars, crimson, white, and purple, cutting to the right with nothing but STAR, my trusty yellow Nitefinder, in hand. Nay, the zombies aren't on my tail; they're right in front of me.

    They mock me, as I slow down, off to their rightmost flank. What could I possibly do with such a small weapon, they wondered? Was I even worth the effort of a charge?

    Stopping, stepping back, I know they're right.

    Well, at least about the former.

    With a smile, I raise my arms, and lift a dart from the ground, twenty paces away. The zombies look in astonishment as the dart floats of its own accord, and their jaws drop when it fires through the air, nailing one unfortunate zed in the face.

    But still, they mock me.

    One dart won't be enough.

    Both arms, and countless darts, rise at my command. My eye lit with a fiendish glint, I can't help smirking at their shock. Even as they charge, I'm alight with joy, as my darts rain upon them, taking out their front line. But despite my barrage, many of them remain untouched, and now they're upon me, here to devour me.

    FWIP.

    A quick teleport puts me behind their ranks, where I continue to wreak havoc. Every time they get close enough to do something, I teleport away and attack from a different side. Eventually, it becomes too much for them.

    They quit, walk away, deband themselves.

    What have I done? Could it be I've singlehandedly ruined this Invitational.

    My perspective cuts away. . .

    ______________


    A girl walks along the same black asphalt I had run upon earlier. As she goes, she breaks the rear windows of every car she can. Another girl, part of the same horde I had just forced into ruin, goes to stop her, asking her what's wrong.

    The first girl replies, “You know, when the game's on I can keep it under control; I can stay sane,” she rubs at her face, smearing the black ash covering her cheeks and forehead, “But now look what's happened. . .”

    The second girl, yelling, remanding, starts: “That doesn't mean you—” but she's cut off as a knife pierces her pink skin-tight shirt and enters her gut. With a thump, she's lying on the ground, as the ash faced girl smirks and walks away. . .

    ______________


    What have I created?

    Years have passed since that fateful day, but the terror, the crazed female killer, remains at large. As her creator, I'm tasked with her extermination.

    ______________


    We meet on a field of dead grass, my sword drawn, a machete with a complex, elegant, two-handed, design, her knives at the ready. In a flash of steel, we clash, crossing blades, determined to end the life of the other.

    But alas.

    The dreams fades.

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