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    Mzzkc's Mind Games

    Mzzkc's Mind Games

    by , 10-25-2010 at 04:07 AM (526 Views)
    24.10.2010
    Networks (Non-lucid)
    ★★★★☆
    NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID






    Stretched out against a vast, black aether, they weave and twist about, branching down into unfathomable depths. At the head, a name for each: Walms, Naiya, Raven, and so many more. Delving down, I explore their reaches. The expanse below Walms' is the largest by far, and twines itself about the others more and more the deeper I go. Naiya's is closest to Walms', their trees the largest, while Raven's name is drifting, slowly pulling away from the others.

    The scene shifts into a game of conquest, and here I find MoSh, willingly under the control of a female presence I never get to see. She guides him well; his troop placements are precise, his movements coordinated. I find myself under pressure. . .


    ______________


    The dark conference room, with its expensive wooden tables and high-backed chairs lined up against the walls, is deserted. Making my way to a table across the room, the other High Aide walks in, aghast.

    “They're not here,” she sounds frustrated.

    “No. It's not like Congress to be here in a time of crisis. I expect they're safe somewhere, probably out of country.”

    “Point taken, but that still leaves us. The enemy is descending upon us, as you well know, but what are we supposed to do about it?”

    “Keep things under control,” I pick up a pink slip of paper with several ornate signatures scrawled across it. “A standing order,” I tell my coworker.

    “What does it say?” the other Aide asks quietly.

    “We have to evacuate.”

    “Then let's get out of here. . .”

    We walk through the white-walled building, all the way to the heavily populated atrium. A commotion erupts upon our arrival, and I drop the book I wasn't carrying moments ago. Stepping on it, I notice there's something under it. . . is that?

    “NOBODY MOVE!” A man in a black leather jacket and slacks steps out in front of me, back turned, left arm locked around a secretary, right hand handed aiming a gun at her head. Just like the one beneath my book. I scoot backwards, dragging the book and gun underfoot, taken aback by the occurrence. Why would terrorists be attacking the House at a time like this. No one is here, except us two. Slightly dumbfounded, and fearing for my own safety, it takes me a moment to realize the man doesn't know I'm behind him.

    Reaching down, I grab the gun; it's an old five shot revolver, I'm not really sure on the make. I point the weapon at the man's back and move slowly, silently forward. Putting up my other hand to steady the shot. . .

    BANG!

    A hole appears in the back of his jacket, followed by blood. He slumps to the ground, dead, but he's not alone. His accomplice comes at me from the left, swiftly. I try to aim the gun at him, but my hands are shaking too violently. A shot rings out, and a bullet wizzes by my head, tousling my hair. I fire wildly, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG. Each shot either goes wide or spirals out of control, missing the mark. The accomplice fires back at me four times. One miss, two miss, three miss. . .

    THMP.

    The bullet rips through my chest and my mouth opens in shock, spitting up blood. I stagger for a moment before my eyes go wild and I look at my killer with a maniacal glint. I let him know, “I can regen, mother fucker!” I charge him, quickly regenerating the wound in my chest, pushing out the hot lead. Pointing my empty gun at him, I demand his weapon. He hands it to me, terrified; it's got one shot left. I put it against his head, and he whimpers like a puppy. As I pull the trigger, I grimace as. . . the shot bounces off his skull?

    The anticlimactic ending stifles my rage, and the two of us have a chat. “You know the only people of any importance here right now are the High Aides, right?” I ask him.

    “Oh, really. . ? Well, we should have figured as much with Rob moving in on Cambodia [Kaomea?] in the west.”

    “Yeah, I still have to let the Adamarill know.”

    “Admiral?”

    “That's what I said.”

    Another shift and I'm streaming a video of Galactica's CIC. Starbuck let's Adama know the current situation, and I can't help noticing the HAL eye at the bottom of the screen. I remember that signifies this is one of my Dream Journal Entry. Wait a second. . .

    My phone rings.

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    Updated 01-05-2011 at 07:12 AM by 25167

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    non-lucid

    Comments

    1. TheForgotten 's Avatar
      tsk tsk tsk, they need to be better prepared. I don't know if it was me there or not but it sure sounds like something I would enjoy.