non-lucid

★★★☆☆

Four hours of sleep, and suddenly this monstrosity comes along. It's fairly disjointed; I don't have a whole lot of time to play with it, so without further ado...

10/18/10



Harry Potter tries to mess with the fabric of reality, I have diabolical plans, and Dumbledore disapproves as usual.

"Just think about it," I tell her. "With this kind of breakthrough, we could completely alter the way humans perceive reality!"

Sophie looks up at me, skeptical, one hand keeping her place in the textbook. She's holding a pen in her other hand, and she taps it impatiently against her notebook. She pushes a few strands of short red hair out of her eyes, and says, "I know what happens when you try to play mad scientist, Harry."

We're sitting across from each other at a long wooden table. Sophie's studying - this is a library, after all. The interior is almost entirely decorated with red-stained wood, giving the impression of a highly modern, really big log cabin. With lots and lots of glass (and books). Sunlight streams in from the huge windows, and outside is a view of the forest, and the other school buildings in the clearing.



"Chaos, generally." I say, grinning. Some of the other students notice that I'm grinning, and quietly begin to edge away from us. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

skip

There's this thing I have to do on the computer. It's very important. I'm sitting outside on the green grass, trying to do this very important thing, when - hey, will you look at that? Dumbledore's on Skype!

Albus Dumbledore appears in a new window, looking very grave indeed. This is somewhat offset by all of the spinning and twirling metal gadgetry on his desk.

"Harry," says Dumbledore gravely, "I've received word of the research you've begun."

"Really?" I say, looking up from Minesweeper. "Brilliant, isn't it?"

He sighs. "Harry," he repeats, "This is not a road you cannot walk down unscathed. You'll be returning to Hogwarts."

"Um..." I say slowly, "No."

"By force, if necessary."

My computer pings.

"Did you just -" I say, looking at the screen, "Did you just track my location through my internet connection? You realize I'm on a different PLANET? How the hell does that even -"

But Dumbledore's appearing at the edge of the wards, walking into the school grounds the only way he can. I meet his eyes for just a moment, and I disapparate.

skip

Moving through Ixburg, and I'm running. I'm moving through a jobsite, people from my hometown who were, apparently, in direct competition with my family's business. By some sort of mutual agreement, they all ignore my presence, and I pass through completely unnoticed.

Back doors of the grocery store and I'm having a conversation with someone before I disappear again -

Narcissa Malfoy. We're standing in some anonymous hallway of a starship, looking out into the black.

"I don't disapprove of your cutting his influence out of your life," she's saying, "But I'm not convinced that making an enemy of Dumbledore will be conducive to your goals."

"There are greater forces at work here. He may get in my way," I say coldly, "But he can't stop me."

Narcissa nods once, sharply. "Very well. My family is at your service, as always."

I'm closing my eyes, casting my senses out into the nothing. Golden light is cutting through the darkness, pushing it away, burning.

"You need to leave," I tell my informant, and I'm hurtling out into the void of space, an ethereal being of energy and animal and just a sliver of humanity. And the burning, fierce presence is crying out, raising its wings.

Fawkes.

He's found me through Harry's holly wand, called by the phoenix feather within. I smile and pull another wand from my sleeve, one made of ebony. And as the phoenix is upon me, I call up the Void, and I meet the creature's light with an unfathomable darkness.

Boom.

(O'Neill: What the hell was that?)
(Carter: I don't know, sir, but it almost blew straight through our shields. We're lucky it wasn't closer.)

"Grab my arm." I tell Sophie. We apparate from planet to planet, trying to get Dumbledore off our trail. One, two, three, four, five. Hoth, Antarctica, Europa, Tartarus, Miranda.

I appear in the woodshop of the school in the clearing. There's another person in the room.

"Where is my daughter?" The woman asks.

I look around, but Sophie's nowhere to be seen.

Dumbledore.

skip

"Aurors and their locking spells," I mutter, pointing my ebony wand at the door. The lock clicks, and I open the door to the super-secret impenetrable Unspeakable Library. "Well, come on." I hiss at the nervous man behind me.

The two of us shuffle into the library and quietly barricade ourselves in one of the rooms. We're pretty sure that the information we need is here.

The man is flipping through a card catalogue, mumbling under his breath. I'm scanning the books on the shelf, but something seems out of place. I feel a presence. Thinking it's a guard, I make my way over to one of the closed doors and peer through the keyhole. I'm looking for the beam of a flashlight.

At first, I don't see anything. The hallway is white, and bare, and dark. I look through at a different angle, and

look directly into blood red eyes. There's no pupil, iris, sclera, it's all a murderous shade of red, and for a moment, I'm held captive by the gaze. I notice, peripherally, that she's a ghostly little girl in a tattered white dress and everything is bleeding into itself

She flickers, like a strobe light. In and out of existence, and suddenly, she's in the room with us

Harry is terrified, and I'm calm. The ghost is on us, tearing into our essence, and Harry is terrified but I know that there's no danger but I can feel his fear

Everything's going dark

And I wake up, disoriented, in a pitch black room.

Scare Factor: 4/10

Oh. It was a dream.

It made sense at the time?

★☆☆☆☆

10/17/10



I'm sitting at a table in the library, across from a stern-looking woman my age.

"So you want to start a writing group? You realize that you'll be in direct competition with our writing group."

"Hey," I say incredulously, "I just sent out an email asking who was doing NaNo this year."

There's a man sitting beside me with his arms crossed. He snorts.

"Well," says the woman, "Be aware that you won't be able to use the library this week. It's full." She points behind me.

I turn around, and see that the walls are covered, floor to ceiling, with boxes of Corona. I turn back to her.

She sighs. "The Kiwanis club is renting the library for a Christian concert."

Scare Factor: 1/10

★★★☆☆

10/01/10



I'm framing a wall; it's laying down on the plywood floor. I have a cordless air nailer in my hand, and I'm adjusting the studs for the wall and nailing them in place. It's repetitive work, meditative.

A high-pitched laugh echoes through the half-framed house. The outside walls are up, casting long shadows in the evening sunlight. It's fading, getting darker.

I stand up slowly and turn around. Without taking my eyes from the floor, I lift up the air nailer and fire - one, two, three precise shots into the darkness.

The laughter ceases.

Scare Factor: 2/10

Note: the previous "Air Nailer" dream was #89.

★☆☆☆☆

09/30/10



I'm sitting at a table in a fancy cafe. The fancy cafe is next to the walkway of a mall. There's a lot of orange in the colour scheme.

My mom is sitting across from me, trying to order drinks from the waiter. He's looking at her skeptically.

"...the water and flour, please." she finishes.

The waiter doesn't write anything down. He's giving me a look, Is she serious?

I put my elbows on the table and rub my temples with two fingers. "We'll get a caramel macchiato and a chai latte."

The waiter nods and flees before my mom can say anything else.

"Why did you do that?" She demands. "Everyone knows the flour is a code for getting all the components of the drink separately. I want to mix it myself."

"Do you want the latte or the macchiato?" I say flatly.

Scare Factor: 1/10

★★☆☆☆

09/29/10



Jesse is my third cousin once removed. Or something. We don't really get along. In this universe, however, we apparently travel together like the brothers from Supernatural.

Jesse and I have been abducted by aliens. I'm looking around the room, which appears to be a workshop. There are sturdy wooden tables are laid out at right angles throughout the room, and they're covered in various projects, models and mock-ups. The concrete walls are wallpapered with sketches and equations. Also, we're in a space station orbiting Earth.

"Welcome!" says one of the aliens, as it moves towards us. He has his skinny arms raised in welcome. His skin is blue on the top, and fades to peach underneath. He has a dome-shaped head, and a wide smile. "Welcome to our benevolent kingdom, humans! Our benevolent ruler sends his greetings."

"They're kind of friendly, aren't they?" says Jesse, under his breath.

"So... what do you want?" I ask him.

The alien smiles wider. "I'm glad you asked. We have many questions about your civilization."

Jesse puffs himself up, and I make a gesture with my hand. "Go on."

"We need to know, specifically, about the Catholic church." he says. He brings us over to a model of my hometown's cathedral. "Our benevolent ruler came to know of this society through the storyteller called 'Dan Brown'. You see, our society is an advanced, rational civilization. Our benevolent ruler believes that we should 'add some chaos to the mix', and has decided to use your Church as a model."

"I'm Protestant." says Jesse.

"I'm not." I mutter.

"Nevertheless, you have been chosen to grace us with this information. It is a great honour," he says, meeting my eyes.

I read his intentions there. Once he has his information, he'll have no more use for us. We'll be disposed of, lethally.

I smile brightly. "Jesse, why don't you tap into humanity's collective consciousness and bring up the data our host is asking for? I'll help clean up, and answer any questions he has in the meantime." Ignoring Jesse's flabbergasted expression, I turn back to the alien scientist. "Would that be satisfactory?"

"Humanity has a collective consciousness?" asks the alien, looking interested.

"Humanity. Has a collective consciousness." says Jesse flatly. "What the flying fuck -"

I grab him by the arm and whisper in his ear. "Meditate. Gather the energy we need to teleport the hell out of here."

"So!" I say to the alien as I pick up a rag. "What do you want to know?"

skip

I throw down the rag next to Jesse. He opens his eyes and blinks up at me.

"Not that I'm upset you're trying to save our lives," I say, "But if this takes any longer, you'll be paying in chores for a month."

He glares. "I could just leave you here."

"You can't kill kin." I tell him.

Scare Factor: 2/10

★★★★☆

09/28/10



Killing from the shadows.

I get tied up a lot. I would wonder at the Freudian implications of that, but I'm a little busy right now. What with being tied to a chair, and all. I'm at the center of an empty conference room, surrounded on all sides by bare floor space. It's almost like the huge room, with its fluorescent lights and grey carpet, is supposed to be intimidating or something. The syndicate's second in command swaggers into the room. He's an older man with greying hair, and wearing a business suit. He's confident, and self-assured, and my gods do I want to beat the smirk off of his face. He's walking towards me, and stops three feet away.

Get closer, I dare you.

"How is it," says the man, leaning in, "That you got in here? Our defenses should be impenetrable."

I tilt my head to the side, deliberately widening my eyes. "Should they, really?"

The man scowls. "You should tell us what we want to know. Things might get... unpleasant for you, otherwise."

This is going to be the most cliched interrogation ever.

"Hm," I pretend to think about it. "No."

The man growls. His arm swings back, and suddenly I'm released from my bonds. I surge forward, catching him off balance, and use his arm to throw him to the floor. I'm on top of him in an instant, grabbing him by the sides of the head. I lift up, and I smash his head into the floor. The back of his skull impacts with a dull thud, and the man struggles, feebly. I lift again, smash his skull into the floor until the back of his head is a pulpy, bloody mess.

Well, I feel better.

I exit the room, closing the door behind me. No guards. I sense someone approaching, and I duck into a hallway running across a glass wall. Outside, I can see the city, sparkling in the night. This building is mostly office space, but that's a front for something larger. Hell, the ground floor is actually a mall, teeming with people during the day.

The footsteps are getting closer. The guard rounds the corner next to me. I duck behind him and lock an arm behind his back, and use his momentum to push him into the window. He grunts with the impact, and cracks spiderweb across the glass. Before he can pull himself together, I'm pulling him back, away from the window. With a blast of telekinetic energy, he goes flying. The window breaks, and the man goes tumbling out into the street, several stories below.

I run up a staircase, trying to avoid the patrolling guards. The longer I can hold off the alert, the more time my partner has to find -

The dream is destabilizing. My surroundings are a blur of light blue and white. I feel blinded, fully aware that I won't be able to see the guards before they find me. I'm trying to hold onto the dream, and I sense it. It's a shadow, human-shaped and in the room next to me. One of the guards - his aura is completely black, and I can feel him getting closer. He solidifies as a human shadow -

I strike out at him, hitting him in the temple. Before he has a chance to react, I have him in a full nelson, choking him. He's losing oxygen, starting to pass out.

He doesn't have to die, I could just knock him out. Maybe I should stop killing them. This is their job, they probably have families. No. I'm just too close, physically. I'm feeling his fear. A memory washes across the surface of his mind. He's on a job, on a team with three others. Capturing a girl. They rape her.

I freeze. I almost recoil, but the man's waking up, starting to struggle.

A snarl of rage is coming from me, and I throw him to the ground. I disable his vocal cords with a wave of my hand, and he's inching away, trying to scream for help. I weave a wordless spell in blue, lay it over him.

He's frozen for a moment, as he begins to lift up into the air, gravity losing its effect on him. I'm standing back now, as he starts to tug against invisible bonds. I summon another wave of energy.

Glass shatters into thousands of pieces, and this man, too, goes flying. He's falling up, though, up and up and up, screaming soundlessly, clearing the outcropping near the top of the skyscraper, falling into the sky.

Even if the spell fails before he hits the stratosphere, well. It's a long way down.

Killing in the open.

I'm surrounded. Six mooks in blue, four fighters in red, and the leader, a Djinn. Bald and muscular, covered in shifting blue tattoos, he's easily the most threatening presence in the room.

I wave my hand, sending a wave of kinetic energy at them. Four out of six mooks have their necks snapped, dead before they hit the ground. The remaining combatants have too strong of a will to be taken out of the game so easily.

I need a stronger spell. I call up blue-tinted soul energy, holding it in my right hand, and I rush one of the mooks and force it into his chest. I can feel his heartbeat, one, two, and the energy pulses, entwining with his soul and pulling it out of him.

I'm counting numbers in my head: 20, 24. The numbers seem arbitrary, but they help me keep track of the soul energy. If I hit zero, I'll be powerless.

The Djinn hits me from behind, and I can feel my numbers sink to 17. Snarling, I pull free of his grip and hit him with a pulse of the energy. He's flying backwards and I'm down to 16.

The red-shirts are in my way, and I down two, one with each hand. Their souls pulse out and back into their bodies, frying them. I absorb the excess. 27.

I'm ready this time. I block the Djinn, meeting his attack with a soul shield. The energy sparks dangerously with the impact, and we're both forced back, sliding several feet. 23.

Where are the other guys? The floor is conspicuously empty. Jim Gordon is standing on the sidelines, surrounded by the remaining mooks. They've got his gun.

Cursing, I put up an energy shield as I fry the mooks with soul energy. 7. "Run!" I shout at him, "Get the fuck out of here!"

He's hesitating. Why is he hesitating?

My shield is draining me. I'm blocking an attack by the Djinn. 4. "You have all the evidence we need to shut them down! You need to get out!"

Something in my tone convinces him. He's turning on his heel and running, and I'm turning around to face the Djinn.

"I can take care of things on this end," I say, and I let the shield drop.

Happy endings.

I'm walking through the building at the mall level, a skip in my step. It's daylight, and there are people around. A feeling of contentment is going through me, and I ignore the graves being built near the side entrances of the mall.

I'm a child, and I construct a mother DC out of nothing.

Something is coming to an end, some mystery was solved. It feels like closure.

Scare Factor: 4/10

On second thought, think I may have lost that fight. Djinn in the Supernatural universe "grant wishes" by trapping their victims in a dream world and sucking out their life energy. Happy ending? I don't think so.

I think this deserves another play-through.

(P.S. This has nothing to do with the anime of the same name.)

★★★★☆

...or "Taking Over a Country in Five Easy Steps".

09/27/10



"Your son, your majesty, is a psychotic despot who's been running your country into the ground."

"And you have a solution?"

"Your youngest child went missing several years ago. You should inform your court that I have returned."

Johanna swings the sword furiously at her attacker. Her blonde hair, braided into a plait, sweeps through the air as she ducks his return attack. She's on the defensive, frantically blocking his sword, barely avoiding being cut. The man's face is expressionless as he forces her into a corner.

A slow clapping starts up from across the room. The attacker stills, and Johanna steps away, keeping her sword ready.

"Bravo," says the man on the other side of the room. "You've done extraordinarily well, getting this far."

"I'll kill you," she hisses back, not taking her eyes from the bodyguard, "For destroying my family."

"With that sword?" asks the prince, "I think not."

"I've fought my way through your legions," she pronounces, "Decimated them."

"Yes," says the prince, "But then, you had someone to protect, which is the purpose of your enchanted sword. Tell me, where is your brother?"

"He's dead," says Johanna, "Murdered by your men!" On the last word, a knife materializes in her other hand. She rushes the bodyguard, swipes down, slicing at his face.

Blood splatters against the wall, and Johanna clutches at her throat in surprise. She falls to the ground, aware that she's bleeding out. From the corner of her eye, she can see another man emerge from the shadows. Stupid, she thinks, should have realized he would have backup...

She's standing on a stone bridge, which spans the entirety of a mountainous valley. At the end of the bridge is a city. Blue spires reach up into the sky, and Johanna is dimly aware that she's looking at the Capitol City. This was her home, before everything. It's still peaceful. The sky is blue, and sunlight shines down, lighting up the valley and the mist with an ethereal glow. The valley is lush, full of greens and grains and enough food keep most of the kingdom from growing hungry. It's almost unbelievable, that such an awe-inspiring sight could hide such a great evil.

"I brought you back." I tell her.

Johanna turns to look at me. "Why?" Her face is blank, but I can hear the anguish in her voice.

"I don't think you understand," I say slowly, "I brought you back. Nothing you've endured has happened yet. Your family is still alive."

She's quiet for a moment, looking out over the blue lustre of the city in the distance. "What's the catch?"

I have to smile at that. "You can prevent all of this from happening," I say, "If you do exactly as I say."

plots to pacify the population with the latest crop of sweet potato, wading through water fields under the bridge

I'm standing in a stone building (opulence, splendor) at the centre of the city. I know the precise moment that it happens, because it feels like a string is being cut. And just like that, destiny has been rewritten. The prince is dead, long live the prince.

A cell phone chimes in my pocket. I answer on the third ring.

"Hello, 'Father'," I say, irony in my tone. "So, when is my coronation?"

Scare Factor: 3/10

Wait, wait. Your crown prince is an evil sociopath, so you want my dream self to rule instead? Good luck with that.

1. Establish yourself as an heir to the throne.
2. Find someone who wants the prince dead.
3. Bring them back in time.
4. Assassinate the prince.
5. How old was the king, again?

★☆☆☆☆

I'm switching to the five star system for a couple of reasons. For one thing, it allows you, the reader, to know which of my entries are skippable (ie: this one). For another, I'm sure it will aggravate the person who keeps one-starring my entries. You know who you are.

I hate clothes shopping. Also, "blonde" isn't in my browser dictionary. Weird.

09/25/10



I need some new clothes for job hunting. In this frame of mind, I find myself in a moderately high-end clothing store in a mall. I'm looking along the racks on the wall, and I've found what appears to be a genuinely horrifying purple-striped dress shirt. It seems fine within the dream, though. I pick up a pair of pants or two, even though they're brown and probably won't fit properly. I've decided that this store has shirts that fit really well, but I usually buy my pants at another store. I pick up another pair of jeans and head over to the changing rooms.

"Doors are unlocked, right?" I ask the salesperson behind the counter.

"What?" She looks up. She's blonde, early twenties, and has her hair pulled up into a ponytail. She looks me up and down, seemingly confused about something. I've probably switched genders in the last five seconds or something.

Time skip. I've finished trying things on. Now I'm looking at shoes.

Somebody get me out of here.

Scare Factor: Through the roof. (1/10)

Actors are running amok in my dreeeeaaaaams.

09/21/10

Don't leave your distractions up to me. Things will get dark.

I'm leaning over the stone railing of the balcony, stretched out under afternoon sunlight. The balcony overlooks the city below, with its clay tile rooftops and climbing ivy. This place is teeming with life, and I allow myself to bask in its positive energy. Looking at the roads below, I can see -

Wait.

"Is that guy riding a unicorn?" I ask.

The soldier standing next to me, dressed in forest green camo, puts a hand above his eyes and squints. "Oh, yeah. That's the pizza guy."

"The pizza guy." I repeat flatly. "Of course."

The pizza guy has convinced his unicorn to go up a flight of steps. As he turns the corner, I see his face. I bury my head in my hands.

I appear outside next to him. "Really, Misha?" I say, "You know what'll happen if they catch you?"

He says something.

I shake my head. "The stage is set." I make a grand gesture with a sweep of my arm. "Your distraction is ready."

How many pizzas would you need to feed a platoon of soldiers, anyway?

Vampires.

The girl looks maybe thirteen years old. She's quiet and sullen, and thirty vampires are following her through the darkness.

She didn't mean to turn them. Well, not all of them. As their sire, she's responsible for them, and needs to keep them under control.

I really need to kill a few, she thinks.

She keeps three.

"Rosie," she says, "It doesn't have to be this way." She's staring at the animated corpse of her friend. She turned Rosie into a vampire to save her life.

Rosie laughs, trapped as she is within the circle. Still grinning, she'll speak the words that will damn her friend forever.

Flashback.

This is the girl vampire's past. She's still human, up in the building that I just left, protected by a platoon of pizza-ordering soldiers in forest green.

The soldiers are all dead, attacked by vampires. The girl is injured, bleeding. There is one soldier left, a recurring character. He turns around to reassure her, tell her they'll be all right. He lowers his weapon.

"Look," I say gleefully. "You can see the precise moment that she turns."

She's a vampire now. She kills the soldier.

Scare Factor: 3/10
Rating: 4/10

I realize this was probably confusing. I've got nothing.

09/20/10



We're taking our lunch break. A bottle of Starbucks Frappuccino appears in my hand. It's delicious; the taste is replicated perfectly.

"Are you ready to go?" My dad asks, from the couch. He's asking if I'm ready to go back to work.

"I haven't even eaten yet!" I say, exasperated.

Scare Factor: 1/10
Rating: 1/10

09/19/10

"No! No! Stop!" she shouts at the bizarre figures. She's the character from last night's dream, the roommate who looks like a younger Halle Berry. The girl struggles, tries to pull away, but she's strapped into the machine by strong hands holding her down.

The black tendrils bury into her wrists and she screams. Sizzling with dark energy and blue sparks, the wires grate against every nerve, causing her pain beyond what she's ever imagined. (I feel the echo.)

She's suspended horizontally, supported only by the wires on her wrists and ankles, which string her tightly over the laboratory floor. It's pure agony.

"You should be quiet." Says one of the aliens. "If you keep screaming, we'll put you in the chambers."

Images of coffin-sized capsules, each containing a human being. The capsules are filled with a liquid which burns ("like lava," whispers one of the victims) and seems to eat away at the person inside. It's a stable chemical reaction which will last for an eternity, providing power for the alien conquerors to sustain their society.

("This is hell.")

"Nonononono..." whispers the girl, trying to ignore the pain. "I'll be quiet, please! Don't put me in there, I can be quiet!"

I come back to myself. I'm sitting cross-legged on the cold floor, and my arms are suspended by the same tendrils that are causing the other girl such pain. The wires dig into my wrists, and the blue energy sizzles through my arms. I breathe out and sink into a meditation.

"Is it broken?" One of the aliens asks, curiously.

I open my eyes. The two aliens are talking quietly amongst themselves. It's unheard of for a human to be able to withstand this particular torture for so long. It's been at least twenty-four hours since I've been put into it, and the two beings in front of me seem to think that it's broken my mind.

I'm not, of course, human.

My possible futures flash before me. In one, I collaborate with the aliens and facilitate the destruction of the human race. Eventually, I'll destroy the conquering civilization itself, and move on to the rest of the galaxy. In a few futures, I'll lead humanity in a rebellion, with varying degrees of success.

I don't pick one. Instead, I play through each of them, living through each possibility until the point that all life in the universe is destroyed.

It never takes long.

Scare Factor: 5/10
Rating: 6/10

Some quick backstory, for context.

Selina is a girl I knew in high school. She showed up once in a previous dream. The two of us never spent much time together, but we got along fine. From what I remember, Selina is a very nice person.

Jesse, I also went to high school with. We didn't get along, and though we're distantly related (small towns, eh?), we really don't share any of the same viewpoints. At all.

I met Zoe Killion a few years ago, at a fine arts-related event. We've been friends ever since. She has a younger sister, whose name is (not really) Ava.

This dream relates to Nomad's RPG. Vaguely.

09/18/10



The good of one, versus the good of many.

We are in a forest, surrounded by tall, black-barked trees. The edges of the clearing are choked with thick underbrush, and the lilac leaves and tall grasses tickle against the back of my t-shirt. The sky is streaked with the orange of the setting sun, which is hidden by the trees ahead of me.

The group is gathered in a large circle, sitting cross-legged on the ground and facing inwards. I look around the circle, cataloging each face. I know all of these people. All of them are my age, and they're from all over the world, these people I've met in waking life.

We've been stranded here, I realize.

"It'll be one of them," says Jesse, pointing at me and - Zoe, sitting to my left. "Look at you two! Your spots are right next to the forest! Anything could come by and grab you."

I'm lucid, not even feeling the need for a reality check. I frown. I can feel the dark, wolf-like presence lurking in the shadows behind me. Wordlessly, effortlessly, I call up a wall of mirrors on the other side of the clearing, confident that I'll be able to see the creature coming.

I recognize the mirrors as a part of Nomad's first task, and I decide to stay here to play out the rest of the game. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror: short blond hair, black clothes... everything gets a little fuzzy.

Who cares about the many? I just don't want it to be -

"- anyone," says Zoe, a bit sharply. "All we've been told is that one of us is going to die."

"And if that happens," says Jesse, "Then the rest of us will be safe until tomorrow night!"

Half of the table stands up at these words, shouting at each other. They're leaning across the round, stone table, ready to escalate into violence.

The sunset is fading into darkness.

Selina is standing up, ready to play the mediator. To get everyone to calm down, and work together, and I see my opportunity.

I squeeze a hand into a fist under the table, and Selina collapses, dropping to the ground like a marrionette whose strings have been cut. Her internal organs have been liquefied, some of her bones have been ground into dust, and I'm pretending to panic along with the rest, pushing through the crowd as someone yells "WHAT HAPPENED!" and "Did you see?" and I'm pressing two fingers against her carotid artery, checking for a pulse that I know won't be there.

"She's dead." I say quietly, and the faces around me reflect both horror and relief.

The rules don't apply to monsters.

I twist open the back door on a blue van, crawling in the back to reach for a case. It's orange, and the outside is covered in foam. My fingers sink into it as I lock it, latch it, make sure nothing is going to open it by accident.

"Everyone's still trying to figure out what happened," says a voice from behind me.

I crawl out of the van, resting the case upright on the bumper.

"I mean, one second she was alive, you know?" says Ava, rubbing her left arm with her other hand. "Everyone thinks it was something supernatural, a new kind of monster from the forest."

"It probably was." I say.

"That's the briefcase." Ava nods at the orange case I'm holding. "The one that'll kill us if we go near it. So, it's safe now?" She makes a grab for it.

"Don't touch that!" I snap, hitting her hands away. Idiot, of course it will still kill you! It's just that nothing is going to attack you outright - at least for now.

I slam the door shut on the van, and walk away from the camp, still carrying the orange case so I can hand it over to my employer.

I'm on no side but my own.

"We're leaving!" says the Matron as she paces the inside of her ship, the flowing fabric of her dress trailing behind her. "Get the rest of the crew."

"And the survivors?" I ask.

The Matron growls. "I meant to capture all of them, but we're on a deadline."

I nod, and turn to leave.

"If you should happen across Miss Killion, of course," says the Matron coldly, "Bring her to me."

I pass Ava as I leave the ship. She has her arms crossed, and is guarding the gangplank. She winks at me, and I allow myself a small smile.

I'm certainly not on yours.

I hit the drunk crewman over the back of the head with a bottle. It shatters over him and he collapses to the ground, dead weight. His equally drunk friend, who was about to attack me, looks from the unconscious man to the razor-sharp bottle neck in my hand. The man stumbles away, apologizing, and promising to go back to the ship.

I sigh, and pick up the unconscious man, swinging him into a fireman's carry over my shoulders. I turn to Zoe and nod in the direction that the man just ran in. We start walking.

"So let me get this straight," says Zoe. "We're working with the bad guys. Who want to kill me."

"Because the Matron has the only transportation off the island."

"Who wants to kill me."

"She won't," I say, grinning.

You really should have seen this coming.

"You can't touch her." I say. I'm feeling gleeful, and I'm sure that I'm radiating an air of smugness that's setting the Matron on edge. Well, that and the fact that I stole away her first prize in manipulation.

"You can't do this." She hisses.

Except that I can. If I own Zoe's soul, the Matron can't touch her. I would be obliged, even within all of the complicated truces and agreements we have with one another, to pay back any harm threefold.

I don't actually own Zoe's soul. But the Matron's not about to question my integrity. She has too much to lose.

The Matron's sulking is so pronounced that I have to laugh. "I'm the devil!" I tell her, "Did you really think that I wasn't after anything for myself?"

Scare Factor: 4/10
Rating: 7/10

Quick roundup of this week's dreams. Yay, real life.



09/14/10 - No recall. None. Very little sleep.

09/15/10 - Illegible handwriting. Apparently this was a dream about drinking.

09/16/10
I'm on a family vacation to the States. There's an entire bulletin board dedicated to the "Ground Zero Mosque" in the lobby of the hotel. This starts me off on a rant about religious tolerance.

The Joker kidnaps two children. They're probably more trouble than they're worth.

I find a swimming pool in the shape of a tea infuser.

09/17/10
I'm driving my dad's old Ford truck. We're carrying something explosive, and if we hit anything suddenly, everything will go up in flames. Suddenly, the brakes are failing, and I have three options: I can drive into a fence, a pile of logs, or a swamp.

We hit the swamp, and the truck sinks into the muck and stops there. It's not sinking any farther though.

My dad turns around and looks at me. He's about to start yelling.

"Good thing this is a dream, right?" I say sheepishly.

Pause.

"Hey, this is a dream!"

I spend the rest of the dream climbing buildings. I'm having trouble flying, but I find that if I swing my arms and move my feet, I can walk vertically up the side of walls.

Scare Factor: 3/10
Rating: 3/10

Whoa.

09/13/10



This is a building with no windows. The walls and ceiling are black and plasticky, and the dark tiles on the floor are smooth and glossy. Neon signs and arrows are laid out tackily along the walls, advertising the various games on display and giving directions that I can't read.

I'm in a small alcove, playing one of the arcade games stuffed into the small hallway. The place I'm in connects a larger hallway (which leads to a set of elevators, and the lobby of the building) to a large, open room, the entirety of which is pitch black and shiny.

I keep moving along the wall and towards the room, switching games as I go. I'm trying to stay out of the way of the janitor, who's coming from the elevators. He's driving a rainbow, glowing lawnmower with various mop-like attachments which simultaneously clean all surfaces of the room. The mop cleaning the ceiling is spinning in circles and whipping across from side to side. The side mops are giant spinning things, reaching out to the edges of the hallway. It looks like a demented, inside-out automatic car wash from an alternate dimension.

I haven't actually seen it, though. I'm just quietly moving towards the black room.

- discussing what's happening in the big bang theory tv show on the big screen tv in the black room with someone or other -

I'm playing air hockey against myself (neon, of course, lighting up the room), when He finds me. I roll my eyes. I was really hoping to avoid the Arcade's mascot.

It's a clown, of course. He dances around spastically as he approaches me. I cross my arms over my chest and the colourful clown turns the pitch black of the walls and starts to disintegrate. I hear the employee - the man in the suit - decide that he doesn't get paid nearly enough for this.

In another dream, I'm talking to one of the actors from Supernatural, Jensen Ackles. The surroundings are plain and the carpet is brown. Ackles is complaining about his insane fans, and I decide not to ask for an autograph.

Scare Factor: 2/10
Rating: 4/10

Got most of my stuff packed up today. Just clothes left, mostly.

09/12/10



I'm filming a documentary about the variety of religious beliefs in our culture. My invisible cameraman and I are set up near a bus stop. I interview people and ask them to talk about their beliefs on camera.

One young woman wants me to come to her evangelical, ultra-conservative church to film and meet her minister/pastor/reverend. While this probably is a golden opportunity for me, I really don't want to go. Absolutely nothing in this scenario could possibly end well.

The woman turns into a girl I knew in high school, someone I barely ever talked to. We're going on a road trip through the US, and I'm consulting the GPS on my cell phone.

I'm walking through an airport.

Scare Factor: 2/10
Rating: 1/10