lucid

24.6.2013

Enough (DILD)

★★★★☆

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

The waves came in hard, sweeping me off my feet. Swimming against the tide at an angle, I try to regain my footing near the shore, but the unusually steep dropoff made things exceptionally difficult. The best I can manage is to grab hold of my baby sister’s raft and circle my father who hadn’t been phased by the tide.

______________


I make chase. Through the palace, the ramparts, the temple--merely a game. By the end, I’ve claimed two of the three boars...but I had never been invited to play.

______________


A crowd had gathered. My father lay upon the throne, sword through his throat, feast laid before him--still alive. Tears hit my cheeks and anger welled from the pit of my stomach. The culprit stood near my dying father, cold, emotionless--I understood why. Falling to my knees at his side, he managed a smile, telling me not to worry, he had been bested and that was that. But I in turn consoled him, pledging vengeance, pledging to finish what he started, assuring him of my abilities.

And so I turned to the warrior without a name, the warrior who possessed skill enough to slay my father... The challenge I set forth: first to seven hits, or last alive. Solemnly, he agrees, pulling another sword from his side. I grab a pillow sitting beside the throne. In a flash he strikes, slashing high--jugular to hip. I step out, parry with the pillow, and push away. A quick turn precedes his follow-up, but I’ve already trapped the reverse-handed strike, allowing me to parry again and make a hit on his midsection. “Hit,” I clarify, now standing a few paces away, pillow in hand.

Surprised, he takes a more cautious approach, circling me slowly. “You don’t know what I can do.” I tease, almost mockingly, before teleporting behind him. But he’s ready for it, dodging my feathery attack while launching his own counter. I jump back, putting us both right where we started.

Dropping the pillow, I broaden my stance and stomp the ground forcefully, tossing up a few small stones into the air. With a few quick jabs, the stones fly towards him; two make contact. “Hit. Hit.” Sensing an opening, he closes in, but I move backwards gracefully, bending water from the earth to deflect his blows. I flick my fingers. “Hit,” and again “Hit,” the water splashes against his face.

Clearly flustered, he fights water with water, pulling it from the earth as I had done. But I capture it in the air, whipping it around in a gust of wind: “Hit.” And that was that. He walks over to congratulate me on my win, sword still in hand, but then I remember, That was only six. Before he can end it in a single blow, I teleport into a flanking position and strike him with another pebble, sealing my victory and fulfilling my pledge...

Deal's a deal.

New color, to boot.

¡Single Sentence Sizzlers!®

6.4.2012

Enter: Unknown (????)

★★★☆☆

NON-DREAM LUCIDISH DREAM LUCID

Originally Posted by Mzzkc

After some hypnosis shenanigans, I fly off to a dangerous area off-campus, one guarded and maintained by ancient spirits of the past--and predictably end up needing to defend myself; as I'm failing to cut through some obstacles with a Katana I manifested, a woman appears and and teases me about it, making me rethink my approach and attack the problem differently and much more successfully.

7.4.2012

Holding Back (????)

★★★☆☆

NON-DREAM LUCIDISH DREAM LUCID

Originally Posted by Mzzkc

After a town-wide Nerf war, my GF and I find ourselves traveling through a temple in a strange society filled with warrior-like scholars who challenge us each to a sparring match; my GF handles herself well against one of the school's intermediate disciples, but when I ask to face their best fighter--the head-teacher's second in command--I'm forced to hold back everything to avoid killing him, which makes him feel insulted.

And now for something completely different. I'll increase production quality in the future. This was just a proof of concept.

??.1.2012

A Real Gem (DILD)

★★★★★

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

She looked at me longingly, as I stood from my seat, the crowds still pouring into the stadium around us. Smiling lovingly, I reassure her: ”It’s alright. I’m just leaving to have a bit of fun. These kinds of gigs don’t really appeal to me.”

Like the dear she is, my girlfriend understands immediately and returns my affectionate smile, ”Go on, then.” Finally, with her blessing I take to the air, gliding up, above the crowds, out to the mountaintop. Rich, sapphire skies and lush, emerald trees rise to greet me as I leave the dark, grey, architecture of the stadium below me. I land in the arena for the previous event, a large, rectangular area paneled with planks of polished cypress and other beautiful grains. Briefly, I think back to the highlighter duel, and it’s laser-tag-like shenanigans, but it doesn’t take me long to start having a different kind of fun.

Whipping out a deck of old yu-gi-oh cards, I summon myself a Blue Eyes White Dragon, and sure enough, one appears before my eyes in a brilliant flash of swirling light, but this is no hologram. It’s as real as I am, I muse in wonderment, approaching the beast with an outstretched hand. He, Yes, he, accepts my challenge for control and allows me to jump on his back. Without warning, the dragon ploughs forward and leaps off the mountainside, throwing us both into an ever quickening plunge. I hold on for everything I’m worth as the ground below rushes up to greet me. Yet, I have nothing to fear, for the dragon is as controlled as it is deadly. Before the two of us can become a single, red smear on the rock-face, the diamond-eye’d beauty opens it’s jagged, almost crystalline wings. We’re flying.

What follows is an exhilarating journey, through clouds and rolling plateaus covered in picturesque, jade grass, stone windmills and thatch cottages. It’s all I can do to keep my grip on his smooth, armored back--especially traveling at such speeds--but I manage alright. My reward is the experience of a lifetime: surreal, exhilarating, yet strangely calming. In this moment, I’m at peace with myself and the dreamworld around me.

BONUS ENTRY OF DOOM!™
¡Single Sentence Sizzler!®

??.??.2011

Subtle (DILD)

★★★☆☆

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

Originally Posted by Mzzkc

As I lounge in the cool waters of a private pool, eyes closed, I hear a familiar voice echo through the dark: ”Don’t freak out, but that’s a shark you’re resting your head on,” she spoke calmly, allowing me to recognize a dream sign as my head rest transformed into a twelve-foot long, brown tiger shark; she offered her hand, and I took it, pulling myself over the shark and out of the pool altogether, ready for whatever she had in store for me.

1.1.2012

Recruitment (DILD)

★★★★☆

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

What a mess. . .

Overturned shipping crates and semi-trailers lay strewn about my dishevelled court. Patches of barely-living, pale-green grass permeate the dead, yellow lawns. Every house sits in disrepair, some are even missing, replaced by strange, red statues and rocks.

A large, armored eighteen-wheeler pulls into the court. It stops, suddenly. Waiting.

Somehow, I understand I need to clear a path for this thing. Sighing at the inconvenience, I use TK to lift the first shipping crate out of the way without difficulty. The truck moves forward, and I use another bit of TK to remove the remaining trailer from the road.

Interesting that I can do that so easily, I catch myself thinking, Oh, right. Must be dreaming.

With my newfound lucidity, I finally take notice of all the red in this scene, and, to my left, there’s a statue that catches my interest. It’s that little imp fellow from a previous dream, and the statue is located exactly where that school used to be. Disgusted with myself more than anything else, I pull from an FPS archetype, toss some C4 onto it, and hit the detonator, leaving only a smoldering stump of a neck where the statue’s head used to be.

Slightly pleased with myself, my mood sours as I’m approached by a weaselly man in a nice grey suit. He starts pestering me with questions and hurried pleasantries; his nasally voice and unplaceable drawl grate at my nerve. I try to walk away, but he follows me as I move towards the old back-woods.

”Tell me,” he insists, struggling to get each word across, “Have you ever experienced. . . recruitment?”

The word choice makes me roll my eyes, as I respond with an indignant question: ”You tell me.”

Of course, he ignores my inquiry, going on to talk about what a great opportunity this is for me, and other nonsense I try to tune out; I’m not at all interested in playing along. . .

Damned sheep.

Note: I later learned the two sheep I had heard “baa”-ing behind my house all day long were, in fact, go-karts or something.

¡Single Sentence Sizzler!®

27.12.2011

Intervention (WILD)

★★★☆☆

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

Originally Posted by Mzzkc

After meeting up with a close friend, we sneakily escape notice during an assault on a nearby high school, but instead of running I decide to take matters into my own hands, burst through the back doors, and show those thugs what happens when you disrupt my lucids; when all was said and done, we put their still-living heads in a large case for proper disposal at a later date.

??.11.2011

Dragon (DILD)

★★★★☆

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

I see it: the cause of the rampant destruction, taking place just down the block. A green dragon, female, on a tyrade, clearly looking for someone, I can’t help think that someone is me.

Figures. I think, making my retreat into a nearby flat, flying up to the second story, fire-breathing giant right on my tail. Unfortunately, I quickly find I’m not as safe as I’d like to be when the dragon bursts its head through the wall.

I don’t want to deal with this right now, I realize suddenly as the dragon exclaims her joy in finding me. I walk up to her, reminding myself this is a dream, and walk out the door to the roof-top balcony. Hopping down, it’s clear the dragon isn’t going to leave me alone simply because I’m not interested in fighting. A burst of flames hits me hard, but fails to phase me.

Fine. I’ve got some stuff I wanted to try anyways.

I pull a katana from my side and throw it to the ground in front of me. Another, and another, I pull from the air beside me. Tossing them around me. Raising my hands, I direct my TK at the lot of them, but. . . I’m meeting some resistance. Inexplicably, I can only manage exerting control over one, so I figure I’ll just go with it.

With a thought, I fling the blade at the dragon, whirling it through the air, toward her heart. It strikes a glancing blow before flying off to the side, making a shallow cut, minor damage it seems. I bring it back around for another strike, but the dragon is producing weapons of her own, hurling them at me in much the same way, but with a much straighter path. I’ve only got a moment to react, but although the energy behind the attacks is palpable I manage to fully deflect them without much effort.

After some more back and forth, she tells me she’s impressed.

By what? I can’t help wondering, I haven’t even done anything yet.
Deciding I’ve had entirely enough of this unnecessary fight, I take to the air, slowly approaching the dragon. Deciding to finish this, I activate my Geass forcing an imprint of my will onto hers; my wishes would become her wishes, my will, her will. For a moment I feel it work, but again, I experience that same resistance as before. She puffs a bit of agitated smoke at me.

Dammit.

Not skipping a beat, I land some quick, devastating blows, get her in a lock, mess up her neck, and drop her to the ground. She doesn’t get up immediately, so I figure things are done and begin moving back into the city.

That’s when she starts to get up again. . .

______________


I’m on a Torchwood investigation, leading a three person team to the site of the most recent rift activity.

It’s the flat from before.

One of the women on the team, my partner, goes to investigate the scene of the fight from earlier. On the roof-top balcony, I show the rookie how to break in the Torchwood way, using a specialized lock picking device to get us through the door and into the room in question, where we’d find exactly what we were looking for.

??.11.2011

New Terms (WILD)

★★★★★

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

New deal: you continue to protect her, but she gets to go wherever she likes and do whatever she likes. In addition, I’m no longer subservient to you or anybody else, and in return I’ll try my best not to kill you.

Waking up, in my bed at home, though I know I’m actually on campus. I hear music playing outside. People laughing.

As I get up, I see her at the foot of the bed, simple, flowing, white dress, knowing eyes, and beautifully styled, brown, shoulder length hair.

“Mae?” I ask, just to be sure.

“Of course. Come one, let’s go downstairs.”

I extend my hand, and she takes it, giving me an anchor to the dream, as we walk down the stairs, out to the deck, into the cool night air. The hearty laughter of my father reaches me, and I know I’m entertaining guests.

I stop when I sense it. Something isn’t right.

Mae continues onwards.

“There’s some people here tonight.”

“Who?” I ask, suspicously.

“You’re mother, you’re father, and. . . Hades.” she states it in a hushed tone, as if knowing the distress it would bring me.

But instead, I grow cold, determined, as I move down, to the lower deck, previously obscured from view by a white, decorated, awning. The hot-tub gone, a long circle of comfortable chairs has replaced it. Mae takes a seat near the god himself, whose blue flaming hair and cartoonish appearance I can’t help smirking at. There are two open chairs, one between Mae and that slime-bag, the other next to my father.

“Ahh, good to see you. Please come have a seat.”

Grinning, he motions to the chair next to him. I take a seat next to my father, and make myself comfortable. The grin fades from his face, and the conversation starts to pick up again. I teleport to the chair next to Hades, making the point that I’m very much in control of the situation.

“Why are you here?” I demand.

“To make sure you understand the terms of our new agreement.”

“What? I thought part of that was everything goes back to the way it was and I never have to deal with you again.”

“No. . . That’s not the case. See, I’m here to remind you that we can still work with one another.”

I see a few cats in the yard.

“How’s Kaomea?” I ask casually.

He goes silent, as I effortlessly summon death and wipe one of the cats from existence. I turn my attention back to him.

“I take it these aren’t real?”

“What?” he looks at me like I’m crazy, then realizes I’m talking about the cat, “Yours is the only realm that names those things.”

“So, no, then?”

“What do you think?”

“I wonder what would happen if I did that to you.”

The dreams starts to waver, and I reach my hand out, placing it over the god’s head, using his blue flaming hair to anchor me in the dream, letting him know exactly where he stands.

He, and all his lackiess, stand up and start moving back into the house.

“I think we’ll be going now,” he states, trying to retain his composure.

The dream is still falling around me; the only one left on the deck besides myself is Mae. She approaches me, when I see someone watching us from the neighbor’s deck, about one-hundred yards away.

“Who’s that?” I ask Mae, pointing in the direction of the newcomer.

“Her? I’m not sure.”

I teleport up to her and Mae is quick to follow.

“Who are you?”

She straightens her posture, “Me? Just a princess.”

“Pfft, yeah, alright. Now, get the hell out of here.”

“Is there a problem?” She asks snottily.

Mae interjects, “You. You’re the problem, and I’m tired of your kind oppressing people like him!”

It looks like the two are about to rip each other apart, so I step in, “Woah, Mae. As much as I’d like to see how you fight, this is my problem, I’ll deal with it.”

“Fine. . .” Mae moves backward.

The dream shifts, as the fight ensues. I find myself inexplicably in front of a monitor, the self-proclaimed princess on the other side. Odd, but I don’t care.

Drawing a blade from my side, I immediately know how useless it will be, so I hurl at her, looking down, finding my true sword just at my feet.

I draw it and see my foe, through the screen, transformed, grotesque, surrounded by purple energy tendrils in the form of snakes. She lashes one out at me, locking my weapon in place.

“Chidori.”

Unphased, I imbue my blade with screaming lightning and instantly cut her tendril.

Pointing my katana, I try something new, “Chidori Stream,” and jets of razor sharp lightning fire from the tip of my sword as I slash her in half. Then in quarters; then eighths.

Nearly dead now, in some sort of half-defeated limbo, I try something else on her. Striking with an open palm thrust, I exclaim “Hadoken!”

A burst of blue energy erupts from my palm, immediately exploding in a blast of smoke and blood, blowing her into oblivion.

The woman gone, the dream shifts back, and Mae is there, floating at my side. Unmoved by my display of power. . .

??.11.2011

Initiate (Parts 1 and 2) (DILD)

★★★★☆

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

There’s so many of us.

But still plenty of room to fight.

One at a time, they all have to fall, else I’ll be the one to go down.

Still, I can’t help enjoying the thrill of battle as I face my first opponent, a looming giant of a man, with sad, soulful eyes and the strength of a monster. With one hand he’s able to catch my true blade and hold it firm even as I charge it with screaming, vibrating, blue energy.

“I’m impressed. You should be in pieces by now. . .”

Time moves forward, as do my battles. The refined, razor sharp steel of my pure white, twisted-dragon-hilt katana, reduced to a blunt club against these foes. Tearing down my Vizard mask, with every strike I release a torrent of black energy, tinted red by my gleeful fury. Teleporting in and out, around my final enemy, I brutal beat him down with one wicked slash after another, into the ground, into darkness. *

It’s over. Three of us are left standing, all of us drenched in blood. I realize we’re the same, though our methods may be different, and it makes me sick.

“I’m done with this,” I say to them.

“Done with what?” One of them asks, suspicion and paranoia in his eyes.

“This,” I motion to the battleground around us, coated in warm blood and the bodies of countless slain warriors.

Walking off, I catch one of them say, “And you call yourself an eight!”

“I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about.” I comment back, not even bothering to look.
______________

Daffodil is her name. A beautiful golden retriever, my new friend. We had spent so much time together, bonding, all in preparation for this moment, as I stand before an invisible committee.

Crouching down, stroking the top of her head to the flowing golden fur on the back of her neck, I do it quickly. My knife enters her throat cleanly, and I slide it through quickly, smoothly, minimizing her pain. But as she lies there on ground, bleeding out, I see I’ve missed the jugular. I correct my mistake immediately, ending her quiet whines, her suffering, my first task.

Now create yourself a human DC, and do the same. I hear his sick voice in my head.

No, that’s stupid. I have no issue killing illusions of my own creation.

You will do it, or you’ll fail. Him again.

But it’s pointless.

Then you fail.

. . . Fine. But I do it my way. . .

Calling out, almost immediately, I find myself a DC. A young boy named Jerry.

“Do you like baseball, Jerry?” I inquire.

“I sure do, mister,” he replies hesitantly.

“I’ve got a friend who’s really into baseball. Excellent pitcher; throws a pitch the Japanese call The Great Equalizer. . .”

And just like that we’ve formed a bond, Jerry and I. We walk for a bit, before I tell him I’ve got something to show him.

“What’s that, mister?”

I can hear he’s nervous as I draw my knife, the one I’d used a short time ago.

“This is my knife. Nice, isn’t it?

“What do you use that for?”

“Oh, killing, mostly.”

He steps back, fear on his face, and I know how much this is going to suck for both of us. So, with a flash, I activate my Geass, imprinting my will over his own. Now all Jerry wants, with his entire being, is to die by my hand. So I oblige, placing my hand on his shoulder and slashing open his throat. To quicken things, I drive my blade into his stomach and drive it upwards, destroying his heart, without breaking any bones.

He’s dead before he hits the ground.

Things begin to fade. . .

Creative. His voice, sickeningly friendly, breaks the silence, keeps me tied to the dream.

He was just an illusion. I told you already, killing DCs is meaningless.

Really? Then I suppose you wouldn’t have any trouble killing a DC of your mother? I can almost see his twisted grin.

Nope.

To prove a point, I whip up a DC who looks just like my mother, cut her throat like the others, hit her onto the ground, and stomp her skull into bits, her brain into mush.

I feel no remorse.

You have issues. He seems stunned and taken aback.

Like I said. Just a DC.

14.11.2011

Contract (WILD)

★★★★☆

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

Journeying downward, into the dark, the depths, from which there will be no return, I make haste in my flight.

Curved, snaking passageways, of naturally-hewn black rock, mark my ever descending path.

At the end, at the lowest reaches, a god awaits me. And he's thrilled to see me.

First, a test: a battle, versus a cloaked wraith.

I draw my sword from my side, and begin my assault, flashing steel hitting it's mark, but to no avail. I toss it aside, as the wraith strikes with its own blade.

Why do I bother with these anymore? I think to myself as the enemy's weapon strikes my flesh, and stops without making a scratch. It seems almost surprised.

I grab it from the ground at my side. I draw it, five feet long, my true sword, white sheath and ornate, dragon-like grip, given to me by a close friend, so many dreams ago.

My smile is demonic as I lash out, cutting through the wraith as if though it were nothing. Piercing and slashing, every cut is wonderfully perfect, joyfully precise. As I sever the wraith, bit by bit, the god is all but ecstatic.

But there's a problem.

Someone else is here.

“I'll take care of it,” I say, preparing to wipe the man in the shadows.

But the god responds harshly, forbidding me from using that ability in his presence.

Probably for the best, I think, darting to the spy, eviscerating him, and ripping my blade across his throat.

I switch to his perspective and watch myself stand there, powerful and absolute, long, beautiful blade in hand, the god just behind. I feel the warm blood erupt from his open neck, our neck, drenching us in a wet, red warmth. I solemnly experience his demise, fading as he does. . . slowly. . . painfully. . . without hope.

13.11.2011

Specks of Light (DILD)

★★★☆☆

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

Constant tracing.

Stuck between infinitely constraining parameters.

This is my dream.

Again.

And again.

And again I trace, searching for a way out, a way to break free, but there is none. I'm confined within myself, and I WON'T FUCKING HAVE IT!

I call death upon my constraints, little points of light, wiped out of existence, one by one until only a void remains in my rampage. But soon it's filled, as millions upon millions of shimmering lights are drawn around me.

I could do it; wipe them all out in a single swipe. . . but what are they? Why did wiping those other specks tear at me the way it did?

I'll stop. . .

For now.

11.11.2011

Enter: The Messenger (DILD)

★★★★☆

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

There's someone outside, roving the grounds of the ancient place of worship. Meeting them in a field, patchy grass, yellow and green, I demand to know them.

“Oh, just a god,” he says, nonchalantly.

Oh, how rich, I think as I laugh a long maniacal laugh, the likes of which chills even my bones.

“A god, you say?” I can't help smirking.

“Yes, god of messages. Zeus' personal messenger, as it would so happen to be.”

“Ha. Right,” I say, lifting off the ground, preparing for what I believe will be an easy fight. “You won't mind proving it to me, then.”

He smiles as he draws a blade of energy from his side. I match his with my own, switching to my Energy Sword with a press of a button.

SKWISH!

We clash.

SKWISH!

And again.

No one is gaining ground, so I toss my blade aside and draw out a Katana from it's place at my side. His sword transforms into a rapier, much to his surprise. And much to my surprise, he's more than adept with it, skewering my stomach in due haste, my Katana unable to even scratch him.

FWI---

I try to start up a volley of teleportation assisted attacks, but. . . I can't. All I see after each attempt, instead of a vulnerable back, is his smiling figure, all too ready for me.

Screw it. I toss my sword aside.

“Bankai!”

My energy surfaces and bursts from my body in a blue flaming jet. He's still smiling. The bastard.

Even as I twist and contort his body, tearing into his throat, he grins, unaffected.

And in a moment, I'm distracted. There's some monsters nearby that need taking care of. . .
______________

You shouldn't do that. I hear him in my head.

Screw you.

With a wave of my hand I release all the lock, the controls, sending this bus of a plane down a long and bumpy road, crashing it, stranding the passengers.

That's it. I'm done with this. I'm going to kill him.

Making my way to the main compartment, I'm bombarded with insults and complaints from the passengers. I ignore them the best I can, searching for that damned messenger, who was here moments before.

The insults continue, so I shut up everyone in the room with a wave, zip, and press of my fingers, binding their mouths shut with a few well placed Ats. Except for one girl who somehow remains free from my control.

I'm gonna get it, she tells me. I'm gonna be in for a world of trouble when that messenger from Hades gets back, she insists.

“What? What do you mean, Hades?”

But she won't answer my inquiry as she continues to shout at me.

“SHUT UP!”

She won't.

My alarm wakes me.

In memoriam.

??.??.2011

Death (Of a Friend) (DILD)

★★★★☆

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID



Fog encases the night, as I float there, hovering just above the street. Lights, headlamps, stream in from either side, a slow procession of ghastly vehicles, barely visible in chill, dry air.

I'm fading.

“Interesting, aren't they?” A voice speaks out in the dark, calling me back to the dream.

Tensing, I turn to see a mass of formless darkness, floating just beside me. An enemy, I conclude.

“Relax,” it says, “It's not like you can do anything to me, anyways.”

Is that. . . a grin. . ? Definitely a grin.

“Watch me.”

I cut away from myself, manipulating my most basic thought, the structure of the dream, calling, summoning. . . creating death. The manifestation of my intent appears, taking the form of a reaper, scythe and all.

“Ha, you can't kill me,” it says almost jovially as the reaper's scythe cuts down and I throw in the final touches, the final pattern, instantly wiping the mass of darkness, and whatever sentience it held, into non-existence. . .

He never knew what hit him.

Note: This entry marks an end to this formatting style. Expect changes down the line.

22.6.2011

Fragmented Return (DILD)

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID







Lucid Fragment: Death

★★☆☆☆

A battle for my life, for a friend's life, against Death itself raged on outside my house. Tall, hulking, bulging grey-flesh, a thin blob of a monster, Death wasn't your typical reaper, but that didn't matter to me. I couldn't let him take her, so I fought, blasted at the monster, darted around its attacks, tearing it down bit by bit, . .

Fragment: Chasing

★☆☆☆☆

In order to escape my prison, I chased this man through the corridor, looking from behind the glass as he ran me in circles. But I had an ace in my pocket, a special ability none of them knew about: Teleportation.

Fragment: Dragons

★★★☆☆

After decapitating their General with a butcher knife, I took to the skies, commanding my dragons against the enemy's. At first, they were just over-sized cards, but with a little imbued magic they came to life, fighting briefly before fading back into their two dimensional prison.

¡Single Sentence Sizzler!®

9.5.2011

On My Back (DILD)

★★★☆☆

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

Originally Posted by Mzzkc

It's just a dream, I assure myself, sticking my hand into the dark wretch's open maw, stopping the biting, but failing to lessen the pressure of its long, black, flesh-torn arms as it pushes down onto my body, my neck, strangling me, leaving me cold as I lay alone on my back, alone in my thoughts, my mind.