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    False Awakening

    1. #180. The Road

      by , 01-28-2011 at 05:48 AM (Things to Run Away From Really Fast)
      ★★☆☆☆

      Samael Presents:

      (your daily)

      SOLO SENTENCE ESPRESSO

      (the contents of which you should still)

      FLEETLY FLEE FROM

      (with all due haste.)


      On a deserted stretch of Saskatchewan highway, after I wake up in the back of an empty car surrounded by empty cars, I watch a figure approach from the distance (I don't expect him to attack me until the door is opening and I can't wrench it shut and I barely remember to break the dream into a thousand million jagged pieces of glass).

      The Road. Scare Factor: 7.

      Samael's SOLO SENTENCE ESPRESSO is not at all similar to Mzzkc's íSingle Sentence Sizzler!« and disclaims all semblance of copyright infringement thereof. That would be stealing.
    2. #170. Ouroboros

      by , 12-08-2010 at 08:06 AM (Things to Run Away From Really Fast)
      ★★★★☆

      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.

      Updated 01-17-2011 at 03:22 AM by 31096

      Categories
      false awakening , non-lucid
    3. #168. Exploding Bridges

      by , 11-19-2010 at 08:55 AM (Things to Run Away From Really Fast)
      ★★★☆☆

      ...because burning them just isn't dramatic enough.

      11/18/10



      A sleek metal bridge extends over the choppy sea. I stand near the center, unable to see the shores on either side, obscured as they are by mist. Rain lashes out in sheets and the wind impedes my movement - block, parry, slash - as I slice through an imperial guard with my lightsaber.

      Something is speeding towards me, about to impact. I catch the missile with Force Grip, send it spinning into an enemy tank. There's a bridge running parallel to this one, and stormtroopers are setting up missile launchers on the edge. They fire -

      A wave of my hand sends them careening back into the shooters.

      A spider-like droid, twice my height, uses the distraction to scuttle towards me, using its legs as blades. I dodge, jump over the droid and land a glancing blow to its head. Its head swivels towards me as it prepares for another run.

      A purge trooper takes a swipe at me. It misses, barely, and I go on the offensive with a flurry of lightsaber strikes. Seconds later, it collapses to the ground, spent.

      I keep a wary eye on the spider droid, but it's smarter to take out the smaller enemies first.

      ...and I'm skating down a barely frozen river. I'm on skis, I'm on a toboggan, I'm holding on to some sort of ski lift as it takes me up, no, down the river.

      And I'm stealing some sort of precious coffee grounds. Or beans. One big pile, holding together only because it doesn't occur to me that they shouldn't.

      And I'm running through a house, up stairs and through hallways and secret passages.

      This room, says a voice, my voice, Was created by my father as a haven for me. No one else can enter it. And I'm laying down behind the couch so that no one can see me through the window in the door.

      And then I'm me, for just a moment. I look at the door and I smirk, knowing that the family that's following me will find me, only because that's what I'm expecting. I don't care. It's a dream, and not a particularly awful one. I just want to rest and not think and play through whatever game my subconscious is dreaming up...

      I wake up to the family pounding on the door, yelling. I pick myself up from the ugly, floral brown couch and pad across the room. I open a closet door methodically, pull a gun from the rack.

      I'm standing in front of the door, holding a crossbow at the ready, pointing through the window. The banging has stopped, and the father asks me if I'm really going to shoot his son.

      Everything's all right. The gun's not even loaded.

      Exploding Bridges. Scare Factor: 2/10

      As an interesting aside, I have not played the game that the picture is from. Before today, I have not seen any pictures or previews, so you can imagine my surprise when I come across an actual spider-like droid from Force Unleashed II, which the dream was based on.

      Granted, mine had more legs.
    4. #149. Chasing Zoe

      by , 09-19-2010 at 06:32 AM (Things to Run Away From Really Fast)
      Do you think this counts as anachronistic naming, or am I just getting lazy?

      WBTB after #148 (which was better), so I'm posting this one on its own.

      This may have almost been a WILD.

      09/18/10



      When I come to, I'm lying on the floor. I'm also dreaming. I place my hands on the floor in front of me and run them through the grey shag carpet, trying to stabilize.

      I get up, and go to walk out the door. I notice the lights are off. I decide to test whether I can turn them on and off, since light levels often change during my dreams. I flick the switch, but nothing happens. Huh.

      I'm walking through the hallway, feeling the rolled on paint, trying to remember what I was supposed to do.

      I pop my head into a bedroom. There are people lying all over. There are a few on the bed, a few more lounging on the floor.

      "Hey," I ask my in-dream roommate, a girl on the bed who looks like Halle Berry. "Have you seen Zoe?"

      "She said she'd be at the party tonight."

      The dream fades into the party. I'm somewhat surprised; that's almost like teleportation.


      Lose recall.

      My parents drop me off at an apartment in downtown Calgary. I have two half-empty cardboard boxes with me. Both my mom and my dad are very disapproving about my decision to move to Calgary.

      We're driving through downtown, away from the skate park my brother wanted to go to. I see a couple of the people from the No Limits parkour group (I don't know them IWL), practicing as we drive by. I point them out to the other people in the car.

      Different dream.

      Zoe has a little brother, in this dream. I steal a set of Janitor's keys from him and he chases me through the building.

      Scare Factor: 2/10
      Rating: 3/10


      Everyone's dreaming about carpet.

      Updated 09-19-2010 at 07:04 AM by 31096

      Categories
      lucid , false awakening
    5. #140. Ultimate Knowledge

      by , 09-06-2010 at 05:13 PM (Things to Run Away From Really Fast)
      I watched The Last Exorcism last night. It was boring, and the shaky cam made me nauseous.

      I'm sitting in the hotel lobby, because it's really hard to sleep after a dream like this. Everyone else in my party is still in dreamland, of course.

      I just have more fun there.

      09/06/10

      In which I'm confronted by a creepy little demon girl.




      The case contains four Books from the Akashic Records. I pull off the lid reverently, and the three of us peer into the box.

      I pull out a dusty, leatherbound edition, and turn it over in my hands. The cover is blank, but the unwritten words pop out at me in red script.

      To read this text is to risk eternal damnation.

      I open the Book without another thought. It falls open to a spot near the center, revealing an illustration of a beast with horns, wreathed in flame. So this is the comprehensive guide to demonology. I skim the Latin text, translating automatically. The demon has a name something like "K'nushekkal". I turn the name over in my mind, not willing to risk saying it out loud.

      Actually, I think about it. Just to see what would happen.

      I'm more interested in the other two books.

      fade

      I hear movement, and wake up in a dark room. I feel like it's my bedroom, but the place bears no resemblance to anywhere I've ever lived.

      The blankets are bunched up at my feet, and I sit up, bringing my knees up to my chest. I'm looking at my hands, trying to count my fingers, but I can barely see. It's just light enough for everything to take on a dark blue hue. I peer at my fingers, touching each one with the other hand.

      "One, two, three, four, five, six." I mutter. The number's not right, but I think I might be seeing things.

      No. I can see the pinky digits twisting into each other. I'm dreaming.

      I feel a puff of breath on my ear, almost a laugh. "You're a natural," says an otherworldly voice. I can hear the smile in it.

      I turn my head slowly to the left, not moving another muscle. A little girl in a white nightdress, maybe twelve years old, is leaning against the side of my bed, grinning up at me. Her irises are such a dark brown that it looks like her eyes are all black. The whites of her eyes seem to glow.

      And her nails are digging into the skin of my forearm, holding me in a vice-grip.

      Before I can react, she's pulling me through a tear in the dream, straight through the back of a bookshelf. Dark grey mist howls around us, and I can feel her pulling me down. Screams linger at the limits of my hearing, and a tendril of fear slithers through me.

      What the hell, I think, giving myself over to the sensation. I want to see where this goes. I close my eyes.

      When I open them, I'm standing in the bedroom, across the room from the demon. Her hands are clenched into fists and she's scowling.

      "Hm," I say, tilting my head to the side, "You're one of the demons from The Book. I recognize you." Not by sight, of course, but the pages left an imprint.

      I cast a glance around the room behind her. Like I thought, the demon is standing next to The Books. That's irritating. I really want to read the other three.

      The demon tenses, and I grin as I rush her, landing a hit that sends her sprawling to the side. I keep up my momentum, going to grab the box.

      She hits me from the back. I spin around to face her, but she's running at me again. We land on the ground, each trying to pin the other down. I can feel her demonic form at this point, even if I can't see it.

      I have her pinned by the arms when I realize that I won't be able to contain her. Calmly, I come to a conclusion. Without a physical weapon, I start to sever her limbs from her body. I pick up an arm and throw it away from the rest of her, cut off her head and kick it away from the rest of the body. I'll scatter the pieces around the house. In the time it takes the demon to pull herself together, I'll have read at least some of the other books.

      I'm sawing apart a Barbie doll. Then I wake up.

      Scare Factor: 5/10
      Rating: 6/10


      I'm not crazy.

      Updated 09-07-2010 at 04:48 AM by 31096

      Categories
      lucid , false awakening
    6. #137. RC Fails

      by , 09-02-2010 at 07:51 PM (Things to Run Away From Really Fast)
      09/02/10



      I pull myself out of bed, even though I really don't want to. I'm tired, and miserable, and everything's just a bit blurry. I drag myself into the kitchen and sit down, staring into space. Really, this whole thing seems a little... off.

      I hold up my right hand. "Two, three, four, five, six." Seems normal. My hands are leaving little motion paths behind them, just like they would in a dream. I dismiss the phenomenon, though. The paths aren't distinct enough to really be noticeable.

      Never mind that I'm sitting in the back-room kitchen of the motel my grandparents used to own. Never mind the fact that my grandma sold this place years ago.

      I feel shadows forming in the corners of my mind, indicating traces of worm-like creatures on the verge of existence in the other room. I go still. If this was a dream, I could deliberately induce a nightmare. That would be fun.

      Maybe I am dreaming. I'm standing behind the glass doors to the patio, looking out over the lawn and the pine trees planted around the perimeter. There's a bunch of things I could be doing if this was a dream.

      I hold up my left wrist and bite down on the skin there. I catalogue my reactions. No pain, which doesn't strike me as strange, not really, because I can feel my teeth and lips on the skin there.

      I'm tired.

      End recall.

      Scare Factor: 1/10
      Rating: 3/10

      Updated 09-02-2010 at 10:22 PM by 31096

      Categories
      non-lucid , false awakening
    7. #124. Potluck

      by , 08-07-2010 at 01:26 AM (Things to Run Away From Really Fast)
      Funny thing. A couple days ago, I couldn't find the can opener. Now, I have a swiss army knife with a can opener, so I reached into my pocket to find it. I knew that it wasn't in my pocket, but I figured I could will it there.

      Wait.

      I reality checked and realized that I was awake.

      Boring dreams ahead.

      08/06/10

      I wake up, hearing the phone ring. I stumble out of bed, cursing because I was planning to sleep in and order room service.

      Oh, yeah. I'm staying in a hotel. I've been driving for a really long time, and I'm in a big city in the US, I think.

      Where is that damn phone? I run out of the hotel room and into the living room. There are a bunch of blue-uniformed maids in there, standing in a circle and gossiping. I ignore them, vaulting over the couch to get to the cordless phone in the far corner of the room.

      I pick it up on the last ring, and the answering machine clicks on. The tone goes off, and my uncle Roy starts to leave a message.

      "Hey, there. We thought you'd be in town, so -"

      "I'm here, Uncle Roy. What's up?"

      Roy tells me that the rest of the family is in town, and they want me to come have dinner with them. I tell him, stiffly, that that would be fine. Really.

      "Great. We'll pick you up in a half hour."

      I try to protest, but he hangs up before I can. Sighing, I hang up the phone, wondering if I have enough time to order room service before I leave. Chances are, nothing my family is serving will be vegetarian.

      I'll have to survive on the side dishes, though. I'd rather have a shower.

      The rooms have morphed into a hostel-like configuration, with a shared bathroom and living space. Kitchen, too. I rush into the shower before an older woman can take it, and she stalks away, sulking.

      When I get out of the shower, at least four of my relatives, all women from my mother's side of the family, are doing dishes in the kitchen. I tell my grandma to leave them alone, since those aren't my dishes, but whatever.

      I'm at the supper when I realize my grandma died a few years ago. I rationalize this by deciding that the woman must be her sister (but I use my great grandmother's name).

      ***

      I'm on a ski hill. My skis keep crossing.

      I remember that I wanted to go on a hike. One of the trails leading up the mountain will take me to a part where it's summer.

      I go to drop off my skis in a locker, then head over to the chair lift. A preteen girl is nervous about getting on the lift, but her family is coaxing her on.

      ***

      I'm wandering around, taking down my posters. They all have writing on them, which is research for the high school newsletter I apparently publish. I'm worried about finishing it before the summer break next week.

      The building is supposed to be high school, but it looks more like my old university campus.

      I posted a map of the ski resort from the previous dream, but it's a really bad photocopy. A memory plays through the room. A teacher speculates on the source of the posters.

      Potluck. Scare Factor: 1.
    8. #113. False Awakenings

      by , 07-23-2010 at 09:25 AM (Things to Run Away From Really Fast)
      07/19/10

      I contemplate world domination/destruction. Fortunately for the planet, I still can't teleport.


      Note: As of July 21, this is no longer true. Watch out, world.



      I look down at my right hand and count my fingers. "One. Two. Three. Fourfivesixseveneightnine." I get distracted and start counting off random numbers, but I'm lucid by this point, and looking around.

      Dream goals... right. I wanted to go to Walmart and open a portal to hell. No reason, I just thought it would be fun.

      I try to shift to a new location, attempting to bring my companion along.

      I wake up in bed. Except for the part where I'm still dreaming. I know it automatically, but I still do a quick count of my fingers. The ring and pinky fingers are alternately multiplying and fading out of existance, so that's normal.

      I "wake up" again, but I still know I'm dreaming. I go outside and decide to along the sidewalk at a sprint, just to see how fast I can go. I run up a hill that doesn't exist in real life, surprised that I can actually feel a physical drag slowing me down.

      I consider the possibility of using running as a reality check.

      Fragments: I'm driving a Bentley. I'm either Crowley or Aziraphale from Good Omens. Something about one-ways and suburbs. Or maybe that's Suburban (the truck). I can't read my writing.

      I find my keys. They're hanging from the doorknob of my bedroom.

      False Awakenings. Scare Factor: 1.


      I wake up. My keys are still missing. Damn you for giving me hope, Id.
    9. #111. Hazel

      by , 07-22-2010 at 01:42 AM (Things to Run Away From Really Fast)
      07/21/10

      I try to figure out this teleporting thing. Hazel helps out.



      The scene drifts into focus. I'm sitting on the cool, freshly trimmed grass outside the Ixburg Inn. My surroundings are hazy, and I feel half-asleep.

      It's one of those late-morning, about to wake up dreams. I dig my fingers into the soft grass and soil. I'm dreaming, I tell myself. I'm lucid.

      I stare at the yellow metal siding of the warehouse beyond the fence, trying to remember my lucid goals. I can't remember the first one, so I go down the list until something pops out at me.

      #2. Find Hazel.

      I feel for my phone in the front left-hand pocket of my jeans. The colours around me start to grey out, and I slowly lower my hand to the ground. I grab fistfuls of grass and breathe deep, watching the sky get brighter and bluer as I calm down. Sunlight beams down from the sky. I'm facing the other direction, toward the back of the motel rooms. There are apple trees beyond the fence.

      I slip my hand into my pocket (left-hand, right-hand, there isn't any difference) and pull out my phone. I think I should try this method one more time before I give up on it.

      Leaning against the red fence, I mash seven random digits into the keypad (one of them is an "8") and hold the phone to my ear. It rings twice.

      "Hello?" says a female voice on the other end.

      "Hazel?" I ask. "Are you asleep?"

      "Obviously." She seems amused.

      I shake my head. I'm still not sure this is really Hazel. "Want to try to meet up?"

      "Can you teleport?"

      I hesitate.

      An impatient noise from her end of the phone, and Hazel is standing in front of me. The chin-length black hair is her dream-avatar's most distinctive feature, and I doubt it's what her hair looks like in real life.

      We're standing on the other side of the fence, drifting slowly westward without my knowing. A DC lurks at the periphery of my awareness, and I think it's a childhood friend.

      We discuss the best way to get back to her dream. I explain an idea I've been putting together, that instead of opening a portal or a door, I just need to imagine the new setting and drift slowly into it. The danger is in how easily this could trigger a false awakening.

      Hazel says she wants to try something. She touches my forehead with two fingers. I fall back onto the tall grass, frozen in place. I can't move, and the scene is fading into black. I'm not worried, though. She starts talking, describing the setting of her dream.

      I pop back into existence between one second and the next. I can still hear the words, but they sound like nonsense. I'm surrounded by orange wooden cabinetry, and I think I'm in a basement. The narration starts to describe the exact kind of cupboard exists across from me, and I snap, "Okay! I get it! I'm here!"

      I'm sitting down on a bunk bed when Hazel appears again. The dream destabilizes.


      I "wake up".

      I'm in the basement of a church, or maybe my late grandma's house (she was a minister). I'm trying to find a bible, because the narrator has apparently been quoting bible verses at me.

      I'm flipping through the book, but I don't remember the order. "Where was Ecclesiastes, again?

      "Near the end," says Grandma.

      I mutter something about having had these memorized at one point.

      The dream ends.

      I'm the commander of a fleet of ships, taking shelter in an empty harbour. A woman with long, blonde curly hair stands beside me, asking about the clouds on the horizon.

      "Those are pure ozone," I tell her. "They're poisonous, but they won't come up onto the coast."

      "I wish we could go out to them," she says wistfully.

      Looking at the swirling mass of dark clouds, I almost agree with her.

      Hazel. Scare Factor: 3.


      Haaaazel, you're being all mysterious and otherworldly. Stop it.

      Also: Facebook, guys? Really?
    10. #109. Zombies

      by , 07-14-2010 at 11:07 PM (Things to Run Away From Really Fast)
      07/14/10

      I'm running through a room with a sword, slashing at zombies. I feel like Zorro, only with more stabbing.

      An allied DC gets grabbed. I slice apart the zombie holding him, but I scratch him with my blade. We hope for the best.

      He thinks something might happen to me. I make an offhand comment, "I don't die." I'm not worried about myself.

      I step into the next room. The door slams shut behind us.

      I don't have my sword. A voice informs me that I'll have to meet its challenge, or the zombies on the other side of the room will be set free. A handful of neon orange-pink guitar picks appear in my hands. I have to throw them into a 3-inch gap on the other side of the room, in front of the zombies.

      I throw two, but they go wild. The creepy childlike voice informs me that if I miss again, we're all going to die.

      I hold one pick in the palm of my hand. I will it to float, and slowly send it toward the bucket. It lands perfectly.

      I grin at the creepy ghostlike girl that appears out of the wall. She gestures sullenly toward another door and it opens with a creak.

      "At least this isn't a dream," I say to my partner, "If it was, I'd have to wake myself up. I have a doctor's appointment in the morning."

      I stop and feel for dreaminess. "And now I'm lucid," I say. "I really ought to wake up, though."

      I focus on dismantling the dream, aiming for a new location. We'll see if this works...


      ---

      False awakening. I beg a friend for a ride to work. Apparently, I work at a pizza place part-time. News to me.

      One of the managers says that the new guy seems depressed and it's all my fault. I sigh, and go over to talk to the guy, who's standing in the kitchen.

      "Look, it's not that I don't like you." I lie, "I just move around so much, I don't like getting close to people." I kindly leave out the fact that I'm friends with the DC managers, owner, and various and sundry employees.

      The creepy fucker smiles at me. I really want to punch him in the face.

      Zombies. Scare Factor: 4.
    11. #96. Cousins

      by , 07-01-2010 at 11:03 PM (Things to Run Away From Really Fast)
      July 1, 2010

      Happy Canada Day, fellow Canadians.

      People who walk into your life and claim to be a long lost relative are not to be trusted.

      Sam and Dean are on a hunt with yet another member of their missing family unit. Let's call her Sue. I think I'm Dean for most of this dream.

      The three of us are after a ghost. Sam's in danger, but Sue pulls him out of the way.

      It turns out she's a demon. She uses a variation on the Enochian banishing sigil (for angels) to send us careening straight into our respective heavens. "Oh, I'll be fine." She says, "I'm going the other way."

      From the third person, I'm watching Dean in his heaven, fixing cars. This weird tentacle being made of energy shows up and acts as the MS Office paperclip. You know the one.

      Dean's becoming increasingly annoyed by the little helper. Meanwhile, I'm trying to force myself/him to remember what's going on so we can get out of here and find Sam.

      ---

      I'm in Quickton, taking lessons from a guy with a rusty red truck so I can become a driving instructor. I'm driving the truck, and a guy makes fun of me for it. Then we go protest something outside of Tim Hortons.

      I'm driving down grid roads with the truck. I'm going to meet someone. I have to pull over to take a piss, but I decide I should wait until I wake up.

      I'm living in a house that I'm helping my parents build. We've already moved in, but we haven't finished building the second floor. My bedroom is up there, so a lot of climbing is involved.

      FA. I wake up in the basement of my house in Ixburg. There are little bugs crawling over my blanket. They're about a centimeter long and they look like cockroaches crossed with shrimp. I try to ignore them, but I don't like them.

      I'm a ten year old boy in boot camp. I have an upper bunk, and the ladder to get there is probably twelve feet tall. I'm having the time of my life. There's a warning on the top step of the ladder. It says that if you let your kids climb on this, you're a bad parent. The ladder falls backwards and catches on one of the other beds. I'm still hanging on.

      I'm telling all my DCs that I've just had a brilliant idea. You know that holographic keyboard?



      We should make a box the size of a rubix cube and project games from it. It'd be brilliant. I conjure up a prototype and place it on the desk. Then my POV runs through various games in full-screen.

      Cousins. Scare Factor: 2.
    12. #53. Puddles

      by , 06-14-2010 at 06:59 AM (Things to Run Away From Really Fast)
      I'm river rafting with a group on the backs of whales/fish/squid/leeches. The creatures swim down the river with one side of their bodies facing up, which turns from pink to silver in the sunlight. They turn over after a while, so we have to stay on top of them.

      My creature is about to turn over, so I jump onto the shore and let it. I throw one smaller creature back into the river where it got caught somewhere. I watch a kid's creature turn over and throw him into the water. He comes up on the other side, laughing.

      I'm back in the water, swimming on my own. I'm wearing running shoes, which really limits my swimming ability. We'll be hiking later though, so I can't go barefoot.

      An enemy is on the shore, aiming something at our group. I'm swimming through fairly deep water, but I jump up and land a flying kick on the henchmen, knocking the gadget aside. There's another one farther into the forest, and I rush at him -

      shift

      I'm driving through one of the main intersections in Quickton. The stoplights facing me are blinking orange, the adjacent stoplights are blinking red. I drive through the intersection, thinking about the DC I'm trying to help / is helping me.

      I'm biking down one of the pathways near my house. I wonder how I'm going to meet up with her again. On impulse, I pull out a blaster and shoot two Star Wars-esque red laser blasts into the sky. I consider that we should have used that as a signal. I shoot a couple more just to see what the range of visibility is.

      The signal starts coming up elsewhere in the city. Sirens go off. Uh oh. I stow my blaster under my jacket (it's too long to sling across my back; the barrel pokes up under my collar) and quickly pedal home. I do have to wonder how video game characters manage this.

      I end up in an oh so messed up version of my backyard. I'm setting my bike against a fence and am about to haul it over into my half of the back yard (it's a duplex), when, for no apparent reason, I realize that I'm dreaming.

      I don't see a reason not to leave the bike where it is. I decide to play along with the dream and get rid of the gun, so I walk into the garden shed and hold the blaster up along the wooden wall. The wall folds out and clamps onto the gun, and when it folds back you wouldn't even know that we were stockpiling an armory. Then I stare at the inside of the shed for a moment, marvelling at the detail and how real this all seems. I can feel my body, the scratch of the jean jacket I'm wearing, my feet on the ground.

      I shake myself out of it. I had plans for a lucid, right? I was going to... meet Walms. Right. Now, how am I supposed to get there?

      Stepping out into the bright sunlight, I extend my right hand, intent on peeling through the layers of the dream. Something goes wrong; I can't feel them.

      "What are you doing?"

      There's a guy my age standing on the lawn in the back yard. Short blond-ish hair. Let's call him Derek (I haven't used that name yet, have I?). He doesn't look much different than I do in dreams. Similar clothing, too.

      "You know what?" He says, when I don't answer, "I don't care. See ya."

      Derek jumps through a hole in the lawn. It's shimmery, like a puddle, but it doesn't reflect the blue sky above. It reflects a different sky with a setting or rising sun, shot through with pink.

      I jump through the puddle.

      I hit sand on the other side, startling Derek. "Um, hi." I say.

      "I wasn't expecting you to follow me," he admits.

      "Yeah, well..." I look around, taking in the view. We're standing on a beach, looking out over a sunset. "Huh. I think I have a [desktop wallpaper] like this."



      We spot another puddle in the sand. "You coming?" he asks me.

      I nod.

      We jump. The other side is more blue-tinged. It's still sandy, but everything is underwater.

      "So, you've gotta be looking for something, right?"

      I try to answer, but the words come out garbled.

      Derek rolls his eyes. "You know this is a dream, right? You wouldn't have been able to follow me otherwise. You can still talk."

      I take a breath, feel cool air enter my lungs. Breathe out, breathe in. I try again. "I'm looking for a guy who calls himself 'Walms'".

      Derek looks at me, incredulous. "You don't even know where you're meeting him? Jesus. I could take you to a place, but I don't think I can help you find someone you don't even know."


      False awakening. I feel the dream fall apart around me, and become aware of my body lying on the bed. There is bright white light everywhere, and I can still feel the remnants of the previous dream around me.

      I fade back into the dream. I'm back in the dream-warped backyard, sitting on the lawn. Derek is standing beside me. I swear, if he rolls his eyes any more, they'll stick like that.
      I go over where I left my bike and lift it over the fence. Derek says something.

      [I]Puddles. Scare Factor: 2. Reaction: Okay, Mr. Negativity.
    13. #49. Dream Goals

      by , 06-14-2010 at 06:48 AM (Things to Run Away From Really Fast)
      There's a wedding or a funeral in the family, and we (the "kids") are getting ready. I'm in a store, wondering if I dare to wear a tie. I do, deciding on a light blue dress shirt. I go over to the mirror to try it on, but I can't pull it closed over my breasts. Damn it, I think, annoyed, I shouldn't have to deal with this in my own dreams.

      I'm in the Ixburg apartment, doing a hand RC. Everything is slightly blurry. It's hard to move. The RC worked, and "I'm lucid," I repeat to myself, "I'm lucid, I'm lucid, I'm lucid." I look in the mirror of my bedroom door, and see a dark grey blob standing where I am. I peer to the side, and the blob doesn't move. I see myself, currently male. I have dark brown hair, longer than it is now. I'm wearing dark clothes, a black dress shirt unbuttoned over a t-shirt. No ties, apparently. Thank God. I see strange things in the background, and open the door before I get freaked out and this turns into a nightmare.

      I walk out of the apartment, fighting to stay grounded as everything blurs around me. I keep RCing and muttering that I'm lucid, until I'm halfway down the stairs and looking out of an east-facing window.

      The town has transformed itself once again, this time into what looks like a creepy green-tinged matte painting. The entrance to the building, which juts out into the gravel parking lot, is in ruins, and the entire field beyond is covered in water. About fifty yards away are a set of stone steps, leading up to a square stone arch. Someone is hanging from it, arms stretched into either corner, feet hanging above the ground.

      At first, I think it's a woman, but the scene shifts into someone I'm pretty convinced is Walms. At this point, Walms is down from the arch, probably having escaped the bonds (or rescued someone else from them). I have to hurry if I want to catch up to him.

      I look down at the uneven ground and sigh. I don't suppose this will count as a skyscraper? But no. Maybe I'll do the flower thing later. I throw myself off the building, feel my speed building -

      Pause, as I consider where to land.

      Full-speed, I crash into the remains of the entrance, numbly feeling my ankle bend at an impossible angle. I stand up, feeling no pain, and head east toward the blurry archway.

      There's no one here, unfortunately. I sigh, and look beyond the arch. There's a whole bunch of people milling around on the lawn beyond it, so I consider trying the flower task. I pick up a flowering piece of the clover weed that runs rampant around Ixburg, and scan the area for someone my age - most of the people here are elderly.

      I focus on the piece of clover in my hand and it turns into a violet. The colours shift and blur and it becomes a rageddy, fushia thing. The flower shifts into a perfect bunch of green and I concentrate, pulling a pink rose-bud from the centre.

      I spot a woman my age exiting the Quickton college. She couldn't be a supermodel, but she has long, blonde hair, and something else draws me to her. I hand her the rose, smiling. "This is for you," I say, and turn away.

      "Wait!" she says. She looks like she's about to say something important. "Are you Israel."

      I don't know what she means, and I answer honestly. "I don't know." I say, and walk away.

      I'm play fighting with a dog, probably a Great Dane. I realize that I'm losing lucidity, so I concentrate and RC and start saying, "I'm lucid."

      Everything is blurry as I walk into a building and do a hand RC. I can see all five fingers, but they're all attached between the index and middle knuckles. I see a guard, and -


      shift

      People are talking about animals in pairs. Apparently, there are two such animals that signify love. What about dogs, I want to ask snidely, but I'm not actually there. Jackson thinks the sign might apply to him, but O-Neill scoffs and starts making fun of him.

      shift

      FA, I scramble for my dream journal, but there's a bunch of different notebooks beside my bed and I can't find the right one. I'm lying on the bed when I realize that I'm dreaming. I push into the waking world (for the first time) so I don't forget the dream.

      Dream Goals. Scare Factor: 2.[/QUOTE]
    14. #43. Bees

      by , 06-14-2010 at 06:31 AM (Things to Run Away From Really Fast)
      Image of a blonde woman. She looks like Ripley Grace from Avatar.

      shift

      Two groups are transported to a dark and scary place, lit up with a lot of orange. The cobblestone streets are coming loose in places, and stone structures are crumbling.

      The group that arrives ahead of us are poachers. There are four or five of them and three or four of us. We appear practically on top of them, which is Not A Good Thing, because we're rivals/enemies/nemeses of each other.

      We start to spot tiny little insects, looking like the drops of water in the first scene of Avatar (guess what movie I finally saw last week). They're bees. Honey-bees, to be precise. The bear-man in the other group freaks out and runs down a stone flight of steps, batting at the bees as he goes. I get the feeling that he's heading toward the hive.


      Run, you fools! They're trying to kill you!

      The bear-man in our group (symmetry, I suppose) suggests that we run. Quietly. In the other direction.

      shift

      I'm in the apartment in Ixburg. I'm still trying to get away from the bees, but at this point I know I'm dreaming. The goal of the dream is to get to another floor, either up or down, and the stairs would be too easy. I move away from the door, toward the master bedroom, remembering my attempts to reach an attic through a closet in a previous dream (#49: Misogynists, Scientists, Doctors, Little Girls, Monsters, and Faeries).


      Still gonna kill you.

      There's a second exit from the apartment, leading down a hallway we used for storage. I pause as I move to pass it, and decide this would be a good time to practice "Open A Door, Create A Portal". I don't really want to leave this dream, for, say, the moon, but I decide to open it up for practice anyway. I concentrate on what I'd see if I made it to the moon (the image has a moon in the sky, oops) and push the door open.

      The hallway has become a steep flight of steps leading two floors down. I'm thrilled, because regardless of my intent, this is exactly what I wanted. I fling myself down the stairs, not worried about the landing, because I'm well aware that there won't be any impact. At this point, I'm quickly moving through the building by skipping the stairs entirely. I peer down each level and jump as far as I can. At one point, I take care to concentrate entirely on the feeling of falling - as if the bottom is dropping out of my stomach. It's horrifying - and absolutely brilliant.

      I think back to something I said yesterday, that my falling dreams usually end with me bouncing off the ground. That's not quite accurate, I decide. It's more like I've jumped a foot into the air and landed toe, ball, heel.


      Or maybe it was like this!

      Nope, totally grounded.


      The actual building this dream is based on has four floors, including the basement. I must have extended this by several stories, as I lost track of the time that I played on the stairs. Finally, I reach the basement.

      I look around and down the hallway, marvelling over how real all this feels. I feel more awake right now than I usually do while I'm conscious.

      There are railings criss-crossing throughout the basement. I remember the April dreaming task (last chance!). Stand on your head, right? I go to a place where the railings meet at a 90 degree angle. I grip the railings, and pull myself up into a handstand.

      I can feel the burn in my arms. Balancing isn't a problem, but I have to work to support myself in that position. Letting out a huff of exultation, I lower myself gracefully to the ground, grinning all the while.


      Because I can't do this in real life. Yet.

      The advanced task reads "Stand on your head", literally. I concentrate on the shadows cast by the light source behind me, put my fingers over my temples and under my jaw, and gently pull away from me and downward.

      From a first person POV, I'm watching the shadows intently, seeing the shape of my head separated from my body. Suddenly, I'm brought back to the starting position. I concentrate on my reflection in a dusty mirror, and repeat the process, slowly. I see my only my silhouette. I bend my knees and try to place my head on the floor, only to find myself in a sitting position, legs bent outward, stretching toward the floor.


      I'm still in the basement. My mom is folding laundry, and there are piles of clothes all over the place. I see a pink or blue t-shirt, apparently my mom's, that reads "Slytherin Mom". I start telling her about the dream I just had.

      I "wake up" in my room at my parents' house. I write down my dreams for the night. I check my alarm clock, but I'm too tired to do the RC properly. I'm annoyed by my mom, because she keeps popping into the room while I'm trying to sleep.

      shift

      I'm chatting with some people in an imaginary gay bar. A girl tells me I ought to come out more. No pun intended.

      shift

      I'm doing dishes via telekinesis. The mice from Cinderella will be disappointed that they didn't get to help, but they did the dishes in the last dream. Which means they haven't done the dishes in this dream. Which means I'll still have to do the dishes when I wake up.

      I bring garbage out to the dumpster behind the shed. I'm Alice in Wonderland. After falling down the rabbit hole, I meet my character's worst enemy.


      AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

      And then I'm a scary-looking monster horse hissing at the singing monstrosity.[/QUOTE]
    15. #14. Voices Trying to Limit Your Dream Control

      by , 06-14-2010 at 03:49 AM (Things to Run Away From Really Fast)
      Go to the moon was kind of my madness mantra last night. Attempted to remember that I wanted to do this.



      I'm in the basement of a building my grandparents used to own. In the dream, it had been extensively remodeled since then. I try to apply the actual blueprints to the dreamscape, but it's too confusing. I hear newborn kittens. I see a few heads of bread-mice scattered around. The mice here are made of bread. I pick up a half-eaten copy of a book by Neil Gaiman, and decide that this is all his fault somehow.

      Shift.

      I'm in a love story, switching between two of the three main characters' points of view. I leave down the stream with the guy who's not me? This is confusing.

      Shift.

      I'm in a forest, hearing a Voice that gives me instructions. I'm happily running through, surrounded by green, green grass and trees, when I come to a stream. I jump straight over it, but land awkwardly on the other side, not having gone as far as I thought I would.

      Water saps your power away, The Voice explains, That makes rivers difficult to cross.

      I'm frustrated, because dreams should be doing whatever I tell them to, but the dream-logic makes sense for now. I consider another, wider, river nearby.

      I'm near where the forest was, but now I'm surrounded by stone: banisters and stairways and what could make for some very fun parkour sequences. I glide up onto the banister, ready to jump, when I suddenly realize that because this is a dream, I really can go anywhere.

      Go to the moon.

      Oh, yeah, I was gonna try to do that tonight. I hop off the banister, landing easily on the stone floor. I hold a hand out as I had visualized, feeling through the dream-fabric. I feel and hear a buzzing, and watch in amazement as the dream within stone building abruptly disintegrates, leaving only the night sky. I look down, fully aware that I made it and I'm on the moon and -

      Too much surprise.

      I'm lying face down on the bed, just like when I last went to sleep. Everything is dark and I keep my eyes shut, trying for another shot at the dream. I feel plastic beneath my hands*, but I aim to kneel down and feel the moon rocks that must be at my feet.


      Shift.

      "How the hell are we going to stop that thing?"

      "I'll take care of it."

      "How?"

      "I'll take care of it."

      I'm using a fellow officer as bait, but I don't have any strong feelings on the matter. The monster is approaching from down the hallway, turning a corner toward me. It spots me, and I retreat into the room, leaving the door open behind me. I'm standing just around a corner, out of sight from the door. The monster steps into the room, and spots the injured officer lying on the bed.
      I remind myself that this is a dream and I will be able to do this.

      The monster rounds the corner, snarling, and I grab it by the scruff of the neck and somewhere along the back (it might have been wearing clothes) and I throw it - hard - toward the window. It goes flying as if it weighed a pound, crashing either through the mirrored door of the closet and the wall behind it. It didn't land as if it weighed a pound.

      I'm outside, on the red, ceramic tile rooftops, no longer worried about the monster. I consider taking another shot at getting to the moon. I hold up another hand, trying to feel the dream fabric. I little bit of deep blue bleeds through where my hand is. I put up the other hand, trying to force myself through. It doesn't work. New method.

      I'm standing at the edge of a rooftop, unable to see into the abyss that lies before me. I jump, only concerned that this might make me wake up. I land. Without looking, I can tell I'm still in the same dream-scape, so I jump again.

      This time I fall and fall and fall, visualizing the black tower that Nomad described. I land, easily, and I can tell that I am, in fact, on the top of a black tower. When I open my eyes, though, I consider that this might not have been the one I was looking for. This one is only three or four stories high, and it's surrounded by brick buildings on all sides. A watchtower. I sigh.

      I hop down onto the dirt and paving stones, and look around at the DCs in the area. There's a cute blonde with long, wavy hair, chatting with some friends at the edge of the courtyard. I consider that I might be half in the moon-dream somehow and these might be real people, but I dismiss the thought as unlikely and walk toward the girls.

      I step through her friends, smiling at the blonde girl and holding out a hand. She takes it, and I spin her around and kiss her. Oddly, I have the sudden ability to smell and taste (morning breath) and I quickly block it out.
      And suddenly I'm playing a game of the Sims, and there are a bunch of options on the screen. Now I'm talking to family members on the other side of the courtyard and looking for the girl so I can actually talk to her?

      Voices Trying to Limit Your Dream-Control. Scare Factor: 2. Though the bread-mice were somehow creepy.

      *So very much a false awakening.
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