Very disturbing dreams. Read at your peril.

[wolven7]

I had a dream that my old friend Daniel had fallen in with the "wrong crowd." It was led by Top Dollar from The Crow, and they were seeking to destroy the world, by missles and all kinds of horrible things. I infiltrated their camp, and he took a real liking to me, right off the bat, using me to move back and forth between other camps, in this one building. The building was an office building's basement, with a semi-open upstairs area; offices ranged around a central open space that led to stairs on either end, and a railing/balcony looking down to the next floor, also on both sides of the place. The one to the west of the landing fluctuated between being a few inches from the wall and really quite far away from it.

Anyway, I was downstairs, being dragged through various things, asked to cut through rooms and kill people in the opposition. I was fine with acting as a double agent, but when they started getting us high on meth, prior to the going out to do our jobs, I couldn't deal, anymore, and I booked it back to the main hideout. As I was running, someone, a lieutenant of some kind, grabbed my shirt and tried to drag me in the other direction, because the war had started, in earnest. I slipped out of my shirt, and ran back toward the main room, leaving him holding my shirt, running i nto the fray.

I got back to the main, upstairs space, and Danny Glover was setting up an encampment in the south office, with a belt-fed gun of some variety, and he needed me to hook it up. Getting the hoses to properly link was a bit like working a 3D puzzle, trying to get everything to work, correctly, and hook up belts and hoses. When correctly attached, the gun was really just a big length of some kind ofcorrugated polymer/plastic tubing, about four or five inches in diameter, which shot tiny, long, sharp shards of metal. I displayed it's functionality on the nearest chair, which was riddled with holes, within a few seconds. We stopped and listened, because it sounded like there was someone in the venting and ducting above, crawling around above the corrugated-tin-roof kind of ceiling, spying on us. I fired into the ceiling a few times, where there were noises. The noises stopped.

I know that they're planning something terrible, and that I am expected to be there. I am integral to the plan. Everyone is sitting in a circle, in the center of the downstairs area, which has become a stadium, or a basketball court/gym kind of area. I'm walking around the bleechers/stairs to the centre of the room, just in time for the last notes to be written and sent to the families. They are on the inside of marzipan eggs, and I know that Daniel is being coerced, because the inside of his says "Mom, I'm so sorry," and some other things. I look at him and tell him not to worry. That it will all be all right.

I know that their goal is a chemical nuclear weapons strike against the entire planet, wiping out all life, and that once Top Dollar who is now also Vicious and Sephiroth launches the missles, nothing can stop them. But if he dies, before they are launched, nothing at all can launch them. I walk over to him, in the circle, and he has a direct uplink in his brain to the computer systems and the various satelites in orbit. Being able to read his mind, I can tell what he's trying to do, and I know how to stop him. He's connecting all of their minds, in a single trance state, but I'm blocking him, so that I can still operate. He can launch the missles without me, but I can still move. I can kill Top Dollar, if there's still time.

I push him over, and he rolls out flat on his back, and I put my boot on his throat, and kneel down, leaning in close to look him in the eyes. He stares back at me, waving off the guards who are coming over to kill me, and he pulls out a switchblade. I stare at him, and I'm in his head, and I'm talking to him, and he's in my head, reading, seeing, being flooded with everything I'm thinking and showing him. His eyes go blank, and he stops trying to slice open my femoral artery, and turns the knife on himself, pointing it at his own eye. I take it from him, and press the tip into his socket, through his eye, until I hear the grinding of metal through bone, and the noises that eyes make. He's dead, and the human catastrophe is averted. I know there was no other way, but I still get seriously fucked up about it.

I'm ranging up and down the aisles, in the stands, angry and depressed about having to kill someone, about how, to everyone watching at home, because the Entire thing was televised, there will be some small piece of their mind that saw me kill the Pope, not just some evil, attepted-mass-murdering fuck, and how that perception is the one that will grow, over time, that certainty will replace the truth of what happened. And that's TD's final revenge.

One last dream about riding around on some kind of dirt-bike/bicycle, through a snow- and mud-covered field, having just left a farm house, talking to two faeries/mermaids who were trying to convince me, or rather the person I was in this dream (because I was not me) that a woman was cheating on me/him. I had a slight crash, got back up, and shifted the position of the wheels and seat, and rode on. I think I woke up, after that.

That last part came from last night's episode of "Reaper," and reading "Paedomorphosis," before bed. The rest? Not so much with the knowing...

Very strange dreams. The sound and feeling, at the part with the eye was Very vivid. Very vivid...

I need to go... do something else, now.

Comments

[raidingparty.livejournal.com]

Man, it's even shirtless o'clock in your dreams!

Interesting bit about how important perception is.

Last night was rather sleepless for me. Transformer exploded.

[wolven.livejournal.com]

Fun. Exploding transformers are more trouble than meets the eye.