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M.E.R.

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If I had a head, it would have been throbbing. My body would have been sore had I had one of those too.

I didn't have either of these things though. I was merely a presence; a cold shiver down someone's spine when they're alone at night. But there wasn't anyone here. If there was, I can bet you they'd have cold shivers in the general area of their spine.

I was moving, though not by my own accord. I was being pulled through what looked like a meat locker. And abandoned meat locker. An abandoned meat locker that desperately needed repairs to its cooling system. If I had a nose, I would wish I didn't have one.

A rotting cow carcass fell from its hook as I passed it, splitting open and spilling forth all manner of maggots and other such creatures. They were followed by a newborn calf, struggling to stand up.

I would have considered this weird, until the calf's head split open and vomited out a watermelon filled with M&Ms. Compared to that, a newborn calf from a cow carcass was tame.

I began to put things together. I didn't have a body, yet I was existing. Calves from carcasses, watermelons with candies inside. Somehow I came to the conclusion that I was dreaming.

Something was off about this dream though. I mean, when you realize you're dreaming, you're supposed to be able to control that dream, right? Lucid dreaming or something. Well, my mind has a sick sense of humor, it seems, and kept my presence restrained to the path I was traveling. I eventually noticed where it was taking me: a garage door.

Kind of a mundane destination for a dream, I thought to myself. I recalled previous, similar dreams for comparison: there was the one with the meat grinder, the one with that cosmic horror, then there was the standard straight drop into nothingness. A garage door was comparatively dull compared to those.

But as I got closer, an unholy orange light began to burst outward from all sides. The door started to shake violently, and I was sure it would burst. And, unfortunately for me, I was right. The door sprang off its restraints and flew towards me. I think it was around this point I woke up.
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Rather than the cold sweat one normally wakes from a nightmare drenched in, I simply woke, staring straight up at my ceiling. The dream was fresh in my mind, to the point I felt I should write it down. I rummaged through the drawer in my nightstand, looking for the notepad I kept within. Pulling the spiral-bound pad out, I popped the cap off the pen I kept by my side and wrote down everything I could remember. Even seconds after waking, a lot of the details began to fade. I had to strain to recall some details more than others. The rotting carcasses, the calf, the door, the watermelon filled with Smarties. Satisfied with my retelling, I put the notepad back into the nightstand's drawer.

I didn't exactly get up, so to speak. I sort of rolled out, landing on the floor in a stance similar to that of, say, a ninja. I loved landing like that. It always made me feel badass, like I had just jumped out a second-story window and landed as such.

I stood up and stretched, yawning as I did. I wasn't clad in much, just a pair of plaid boxers. I made my way to the nearby bathroom, where I stripped off my boxers and stepped into the shower.

Throughout my entire morning routine, I couldn't help but go through the events of the dream. An abandoned meat locker, a rotting pig carcass giving birth to a calf, a durian filled with Jolly Ranchers. It felt like the kind of dream I needed to tell someone.

After getting dressed, I made my way downstairs to the sounds of my family. I'd say they were going about their morning routine as well had they not already moved on to their afternoon routine. Did I mention it was 1:30 PM already?

I prepared what might as well have been my breakfast: cold pizza and a cup of soda. I know what you're thinking, "Breakfast of the Champions," right? Well stop thinking that. That's a terrible joke and you should be ashamed.

My family moved in and out of the kitchen as I picked at the cold dish in front of me. Mom was talking about buying me shorts for our trip, sis was talking about her date with her creepy boyfriend, and my father was talking about how we didn't have this thing or that thing for dinner or some shit like that.

Didn't really matter much to me. I was going to eat and then maybe head out. I had no plans today, so I figured I'd play it by ear.

Those plans didn't last though. My dad called me into the next room. I looked down at the not-even-half-finished pizza in front of me and the empty glass next to it. I disposed of the food and put the dishware in the sink, then walked out to my dad.

"I need you to pick up the crock pot from the Higgins's place down the street. We left it there after the cookout the other day," he told me, tossing me the keys to the truck.

"Sure thing," I replied. It would be a short drive, but I was sure I'd enjoy it nonetheless.

I left the house and made my way down to the truck. Whatever final traces of sleep were left in me were shaken awake by the roar of the engine. The truck would need repairs soon, from the sound of it.

I drove past house after picturesque house, eventually arriving at the Higgins's place. I parked the truck on the curb and walked up the path to the door. After knocking three times, the door was answered by Mr. Higgins. I let him know why I was there.

"Oh! Yes yes yes, of course! In fact, I was just about to call your father and let him know I still had it," Mr. Higgins said, beckoning me in and then moving farther into his house.

I wandered into the living room. There was a bad, low-budget black-and-white film playing on the TV. The Higgins's daughter, a female friend my age with dark red hair, was watching it. Not wanting to miss a single awful moment, she silently acknowledged me.

"Hey Clau," I responded, letting her know I got her greeting.

She didn't reply. One of the actors in the film had obviously forgotten their line and took a few seconds to remember. Clau snickered at this, holding her laughter back behind the ends of her sweater's oversized sleeves.

Mr. Higgins returned from deep within the house, carrying the crock pot he had gone to retrieve. He enthusiastically handed it to me, asking me how my family was. I told him they were fine, wanting to hurry the conversation along. Whether it was so I could just leave or so I could hang out with Clau alone I can't recall.

"Claudette," Mr. Higgins said. Only family ever called Clau by her full name. "What on earth are you watching?"

"Probably the dumbest movie I've ever seen," she said, stifling a giggle. "Check this out, they say these guys are robots, right? Then they show them, and they're just these guys covered head to toe in tinfoil!"

Mr. Higgins just sort of grunted at the comment, not understanding his daughter's fascination with bad movies. He turned back to me. "Well, I hope you have a good afternoon, and tell your family I said hi!" I don't know why he seemed to be rushing me out so quickly.

After practically pushing me out the door, the day continued pretty normally. I brought the crock pot back home, my sister invited her creepy boyfriend over (seriously, it's like the guy hasn't seen a single ray of sun or a single drop of shampoo in his life), and we had spaghetti for dinner.

Before I went to bed, I decided to take a look at my notepad I had written my dream on earlier. When I read what I wrote, it seemed to be a lot more exciting than I could recall. I didn't remember there being a carcass, and I didn't remember a calf's head splitting open. Was it even a calf? It could have been a foal, or even a kid.

Whatever, I thought to myself. It didn't really matter. It was just a dream. Not even really a good one. I turned out the light and, after a significant amount of tossing and turning, eventually fell asleep.
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I awoke the next day much like I did the day before, perhaps a half an hour or two earlier. I rolled out of bed, stretched, yawned, showered, got dressed, went downstairs, and picked at a plate of cold pizza. Mom was still going on about a shopping trip for me, sis was still going on about her boyfriend.

My dad tapped me on the shoulder. "Hey, buddy," he said. "You remember that cookout we had at the Higgins's place the other day? I left the crock pot there and need you to go get it while I pick up some other things for dinner."

I stopped in mid-bite. Swallowing, I turned to my dad. "The crock pot? I thought I brought that home…"

"Ah, no, see, I meant to ask you to grab it before we left the cookout, but it slipped my mind. Like I said, I'm really busy, so if you could just…"

I put the slice of pizza, not quite finished, back on my plate. "Don't worry about it Dad, I'll go grab it."

"Thanks bud. The keys are hanging up, be careful driving."

I wondered what he meant by that. The Higgins's house was only just up the street. It's not like the way there was a winding road on a cliff face.

I walked out of the house and down to the truck. It took a couple turns of the key to get it to start up, but when it did I took off almost immediately.

The houses on my street are fairly grand. Big windows out in front, some with pillars, it's like something that a small child would dream up while she plays with her dolls. Ken just took the elevator up to the second floor to avoid his loved one, but Natalie was there waiting for him. She wanted him to explain why there was an outfit that wasn't hers on the floor of their bedroom…

My daydreaming was brought to an immediate halt when a large, shining object seemingly fell from the sky and crushed the hood of the truck. My bewilderment only lasted a second before I slammed on the breaks, sending the large shiny thing rolling off the front of the truck and onto the road.

I stepped out of the truck to get a good look at the think that hit me. By all accounts, it was man-shaped. Its head was a large, silver sphere with two red cylindrical bits popping out what I can only guess was the front. The rest of the object looked like it was covered in tin foil.

In my bewilderment, I began to think out loud. "Is this… some sort of robot?"

I looked behind me. The Higgins's house.

I walked up to the door and knocked three times. No answer. I knocked three more times. No answer still. I put my ear to the door. It sounded like there was… fighting, on the other side.

The door suddenly flew open towards me, knocking me back onto the Higgins's front lawn. My ears rang and my head throbbed, and as I looked up from my landing spot, I saw the Higgins's daughter and a friend of mine, Clau, standing in the doorway, dressed in a tight tank-top and low-cut jeans. Her fiery red hair was blown to the side by the wind, and under her arm was… the crock pot.

Suddenly, a veritable army of the robots appeared behind her. She turned around, revealing to me a gun tucked in the back of her jeans, which she pulled out and started firing at the mechanical creatures. She looked back at me, then into the house. She threw herself from the steps leading up to the door, screaming at me to get down. For a moment, I realized the redundancy of her statement, telling me to get down when I'm already on the ground.

It didn't take long for my thoughts to stray, however, as Clau landed on me, threw the crock pot to the side, and covered her head, simultaneously pressing her body against mine. I would've thought it was hot until it started really getting hot, what with the heat from the exploding house washing over us.

When the whole ordeal was over, Clau pushed herself up and looked back to get a good look at the ruins of her home. She was heaving; her heavy breaths making her already too-tight tanktop seem even tighter. As for me, I was stunned. Why I was stunned I couldn't tell you. I was either terrified out of my mind or aroused beyond all rational thought. When my mind finally caught up with my body, I realized Clau was standing over me, trying to get my attention. I couldn't really make words. Just sort of wheeze and grunt.

"Well," she said, walking over and picking up the crock pot. "I realize this is what you came for, so, uh…." She held the object out at me. "Here ya go."

My knees seemed to be confused as to whether they ought to give way or lock up, and I nearly stumbled walking over to take the pot. Eventually I managed to trek back to the truck, Clau waving goodbye to me as if everything that had just happened was business as usual.

My drive back home was notably devoid of any sort of thought. I think my brain was working overtime on what had just happened and didn't really have the manpower to devote to anything else. I got home, grabbed the pot, and walked into my house.

My mom and dad were having some sort of minor squabble when I walked in. "Why, dear!" my mother said, voice full of concern. "You look absolutely frazzled!"

"Everything alright son?" my father asked.

"I just got back from the Higgins's house," I said, my voice emotionless and monotone. "It was attacked by robots and exploded. Clau sends her regards though."

"Hm, that's a shame," my mom said, her tone of voice more fitting for an elementary school sports team losing a game rather than, y'know, a neighbor's house blowing up. "Well, bring the crock pot on over already, your father needs to prepare dinner."

The day went on as normal. Mom and Dad seemed to bicker a little bit more than before. That night at dinner, we had some fancy Italian cuisine. My sister's creepy boyfriend was over as well, his pearly white skin and wild-to-the-point-of-frightening hair ultimately distracting me from my meal. He seemed rather clingy as well.

That night, I tried to recall the dream I had days before. However, all I could remember was a garage door. Not very exciting. Then I remembered the notepad in my nightstand drawer. Retrieving it, I read what I had written down. My reaction was one of surprise; how fucked up did someone have to be to dream something like this?

I shook my head and put the notebook back in the drawer. My day had been long and frankly kind of annoying; I was just ready to go to bed. I pulled the covers up to just above my chest and slept peacefully. Well, mostly peacefully. I could've sworn I heard this faint whispering, but I managed to tune it out for the most part and eventually drifted off.
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I awoke the next day like many of the days before. Up, stretch, yawn, shower, clothes, pizza. Sis was bragging about how amazing her boyfriend was. I didn't need to tell her my opinion; I had already stated on multiple occasions that I found him weird, clingy, and maybe a little obsessive and overbearing. She didn't care though. Mom began to yell at me about how I don't give a shit about my personal appearance, saying I better get some shorts for our trip or she's going to leave me home.

Eventually my dad rushed in, muttering to himself and swinging open cabinets and slamming them shut just as quickly. I watched with little interest as I slowly worked on my cold pizza. Once he had gone through all the cabinets in the kitchen, he cried out, "Where the hell is the fucking crock pot!?"

I stopped eating. Froze, one may say, in place. "Didn't," I started, meekly, "didn't I get it from the Higgins's place the other day?"

Dad turned to me, his eyes seemed to be alight with an intense flame. "No, you didn't!" he said to me, raising his voice but no quite yelling. "I TOLD you to make sure you grabbed it before we left their cookout, but NO! YOU HAD TO FORGET!"

I seriously began to fear for my life at this point. "Alright, alright, I'll just pop over to their place and get it!" I said, backing out the door and grabbing the keys on the way by.

I didn't stick around long enough to hear if he made any more threats towards me. I sighed as I left, running through the events of the last couple days in my head. Something seemed off. Something I couldn't quite put my finger on, as if a wall made of déjà vu had been constructed in my mind and kept me from my memory.

Then I looked up.

The landscape was gone. In its place, there was… nothing. From all angles, all that seemed to exist was a vortex of brown… brown… ness. Something I can't even begin to describe. The road leading up the street had become a winding affair, certainly the sort of thing I should try to be as careful as possible on.

I opened the door to the truck. Turning the key, the car sputtered to life, and a cloud of smoke erupted from underneath the hood. I should have just walked, but… well, if you could see the road you'd understand.

Nevertheless, the car seemed to run fine, and I carefully made my way past the elaborate mansions floating in the nothingness. Something peculiar was happening in my brain; half of it was trying to fight the images I was seeing, while the other half claimed it was business as usual.

Eventually I got to the Higgins residence. I got out of the truck, walked the narrow pathway to the door, and knocked once… twice… three times. The door slowly opened and I walked in.

"Hello?" I called out. There was a whispering in my head, something telling me to go upstairs. The whisper seemed to be a logical being, as far as whispers go. I couldn't tell you how I came to such a conclusion, as it had occurred even to me at that time that I hadn't met a whole lot of whispers in my life.

I walked upstairs and turned the corner. What I saw froze me in place.

Standing in the light of a doorway at the end of the hall was the Higgins girl, Clau, her wild, bright orange hair being blown back from by a breeze from the window. The reason for my petrified state was what the woman was clad in. It wasn't much. She wore a bikini top and a short, short pair of jean shorts which, as far as I could tell, didn't have anything under them.

She turned to me, calling out my name. "Here for something?"

I stammered, and evidently one of my stammering sounded like "crock pot." The first word could have been something else; I had a lot on my mind.

"Ah, yes, I…" she stopped. Moved her head slightly. Suddenly, she bolted towards me, grabbing me and carrying me along as she burst through the door at the opposite end of the hall.

I got a pretty good look at what had caused her alarm: a hulking metal man with glowing red eyes and what I could only describe as Satan's eggbeater on his left hand chased us down the hallway. Clau tossed me out the second story window and followed suit as she jumped through straight after.

Somehow, I managed to stick the landing, as if it had been instinct. Clau was just as lucky, but when she hit the ground she began to run towards the edge of the platform her house sat on, the only thing dividing it from the brown nothingness. I followed after her, and joined her as she threw herself to the ground mere inches from the edge. The mansion behind us erupted in a ball of flame, taking the large metal man with it.

I stood up and turned to face the inferno. For the longest time, I was speechless. Eventually, Clau began to tug at my arm. "We need to go!" she said. "The explosion will track more of them and your sister is waiting for us!"

My sister, what? I thought. Things were just now getting extremely confusing. As absurd as the last couple days had been, the course of action I was taking now seemed wrong, out of order almost. I wasn't supposed to meet my sister, I was supposed to get the…

I looked back at the house. The crock pot.

I realized that didn't matter much anymore. As absurd a proposition as it was that Clau was giving me, I didn't really have much of a choice. Soon, the two of us were driving away from the remains of Clau's mansion.

I looked over to Clau, napping in the passenger's seat. The heat of the blast had caused her to sweat quite a bit KEEP YOUR EYES ON THE ROAD, MAN! I snapped back to attention. I wanted to do so many things. I wanted to ask what the hell was going on, I wanted to know what that thing in her house was, I wanted to know if she had any quiche recipes (now, at that, I had to do a double take), and I wanted to tap that ass all night long. I looked back at her body, covered in as much sweat as it was clothing KEEP YOUR EYES ON THE ROAD ALREADY, YOU HORNY IDIOT!

I snapped back to attention. Ahead, I could see my sister and her creepy boyfriend, his almost glowing skin and unruly mane of hair sticking out against the absolute nothingness of the brown. They were standing outside a small shack, waiting for me and Clau to show up.

I stopped in front of the shack and turned to Clau, shaking her awake. Her skin was soft. "Clau, we're at the spot, wake up!"

She yawned and stretched as far as she could. "Alright," she said. "Are you ready to do this?"

I had no idea what "this" was, but I instinctively said yes. We got out of the truck and met up with my sister and her boyfriend, the latter of which seemed to glare at me as I greeted my sibling. Clau shook her hand.

"So this is the place?" she asked.

"It is, just like the map said," my sister replied.

"Alright," Clau said, walking up to the shack's door. "Let's get this done with then!"

She opened the door, and a dense fog seemed to roll outward. I stood there waiting, just staring into the doorway in an attempt to make something out through the mist. "Hey, c'mon, we don't have all day," Clau said, ushering me inside.

I walked in, suddenly feeling like I had been here before. No, not just been here before. This was mine. This was my shack and in it I am king.

Wait, king? What?

My thoughts were getting erratic. Maybe it was my throbbing head. Maybe it was my body, sore all over. Maybe it was the seemingly abundant whispering sounds that permeated the still air.

The fog eventually came to an end and led me out into what appeared to be an abandoned meat locker desperately in need of repairs. Rotting cow carcasses still managed to hang from their hooks, and the utterly repugnant smell made me wish I didn't have a nose.

My head snapped to the side as one of the rotting hunks of meat fell from its hook, and all manner of maggots spilled outward, followed shortly by a newborn calf that was struggling to stand and whose head promptly split open and spat forth a watermelon filled with M&Ms.

And yet all I was thinking was how beautiful the miracle of birth was.

I managed to finally get out of the fog, and my companions followed suit. My sister's boyfriend began proclaiming how much he had missed her. He was sincere about it too, not saying it jokingly like a normal person would. Ahead of us was a garage door, bursting with orange light on all sides.

I suddenly felt compelled to approach it. It was the reason I was here, my reason for existence! Without this door I am nothing, and without me this door is nothing! I EXIST ONLY TO OPEN THIS DOOR!

Suddenly, a pair of soldiers appeared, keeping me from my beloved door. I called out to my love, telling her I would not leave her, and she in turn proclaimed her love for me in a beautiful sonnet which you can find on pages 4 through 13 of your textbooks.

I slapped myself. Get it together, man!

The soldiers began to ask us what we were doing here, and I began to stammer again, out of what I was sure was terror.

"Stand back, my love! I will defeat these rogues!"

My sister's boyfriend sprang forth with what I could only guess was a golf club, swinging and knocking the head off of one of the soldiers. The head ricocheted off the walls of the meat locker before colliding with the other soldier's head and knocking it clean off his shoulders. The two heads landed in a nearby sink, a bright red "TILT" sign lighting up above them.

Now it was just me and the door. Wait. No. The others were there too. But they knew the importance of me getting this door. They knew what's up. They knew the score. THEY KNEW WHAT'S AT STAKE.

I began to traverse the seemingly endless stretch of floor leading to the coveted door. But… something was wrong.

Whispers

Too many whispers.

How can something so quiet be so loud!?

Stop it!

STOP IT!

GET OUT OF MY HEAD!

I fell to my knees, screaming in agony, the whispers refusing to cease their incessant airy noise. The garage door burst and was instantly suck into the orange vortex beyond, and the unholy light that poured in outlined the shape of a woman. A familiar shape. A comforting shape.

I reached out, but the light and the woman disappeared. Beyond was the dilapidated remains of a building, ever so precariously floating above the brown nothingness. There was a single stretch of floor leading from the garage door, to a door on the far side. Just a door. Remains of walls on other sides, but opposite me, just a door.

It took me a moment to realize that Clau was trying to help me up. I cooperated with her and stood up, my legs seemingly stronger than they had been lately. She hugged me as though she hadn't seen me in years.

My sister pointed to the door on the other side of the nothing. "We have to get over there, it's the only way out." It made sense to me. At the time.

We traversed the narrow strip of floor, making sure to watch our step lest we fall prey to the brown nothingness. Sure enough, we eventually reached the door on the other side, and I swung it open as though I felt no fear in the uncertainty of what lie beyond.

And what lie beyond was… my house.

No, not my mansion. Not my large home. My house. My house from two days ago, the first time my father had asked me to get the crock pot from the Higgins's place.

I was somewhat confused. I looked back to my comrades for reassurance. Sure enough, they all looked the same as they did moments ago, which was a relief.

The three of them set to investigating the ground floor, while I set to investigating my room. Well, I said I was investigating, but really I wanted to get that notepad. The one thing that seemed to have stayed constant throughout this ordeal.

But when I reached my room, my door wasn't there. Instead there seemed to be a rather ruined brick wall. I called out to my sister, asking her to come take a look at it. She agreed that it was odd. The second relief of the day, that someone in this crazy world finds something odd.

I pushed the wall gently, and it opened into an area that was decidedly larger than my room. In fact, it seemed to be… Mardi Gras?

The most abandoned Mardi Gras I had ever seen, in fact. Below, however, I could make out the shapes of soldiers much like those I had met earlier. They seemed to be chasing after cloaked figures that phased in and out of existence. I took no comfort in realizing that this was the least strangest thing I saw today.

I began to climb down towards the city square below me. On an opposite side of the plaza, another door opened up, revealing my sister's crazy boyfriend and Clau. I called out to them, telling them to go up to the doorway of my bedroom and meet us, and my sister's boyfriend answered back, telling me to make sure my sister doesn't get hurt. I assured him she wouldn't, telling him I understood now what he sees in her that he needs to protect. It wasn't until a full minute after saying this did I realize how absurd it sounded.

All four of us eventually made it down into the abandoned city square. We had a brief moment of piece before a troupe of soldiers showed up. No weapons, they were just kind of… there.

I picked up a large, wooden cylinder, walked up to a soldier, and smacked his head off with it. Then it all went to shit.

More soldiers came. I leapt through the air. Jump kick to the face! Clau pulled dual Uzis out of nowhere and blew the soldiers away as they played soccer in the streets. I picked up crowbar and ran down the wall of lights, hitting every one of them and turning them on. The lights expressed distaste at this, to which I promptly apologized.

Then, I was alone.

I looked around. Decorations strewn across street lamps, balconies festooned with flowers. I looked down. The notepad. The one constant in this crazy world. I picked it up and flipped to the page I had written the dream on.

THEGINGERBREADHOUSEISAWOLFINSHEEPSCLOTHING THEGINGERBREADHOUSEISAWOLFINSHEEPSCLOTHING THEGINGERBREADHOUSEISAWOLFINSHEEPSCLOTHING THEGINGERBREADHOUSEISAWOLFINSHEEPSCLOTHING THEGINGERBREADHOUSEISAWOLFINSHEEPSCLOTHING THEGINGERBREADHOUSEISAWOLFINSHEEPSCLOTHING THEGINGERBREADHOUSEISAWOLFINSHEEPSCLOTHING THEGINGERBREADHOUSEISAWOLFINSHEEPSCLOTHING THEGINGERBREADHOUSEISAWOLFINSHEEPSCLOTHING THEGINGERBREADHOUSEISAWOLFINSHEEPSCLOTHING THEGINGERBREADHOUSEISAWOLFINSHEEPSCLOTHING THEGINGERBREADHOUSEISAWOLFINSHEEPSCLOTHING THEGINGERBREADHOUSEISAWOLFINSHEEPSCLOTHING THEGINGERBREADHOUSEISAWOLFINSHEEPSCLOTHING THEGINGERBREADHOUSEISAWOLFINSHEEPSCLOTHING THEGINGERBREADHOUSEISAWOLFINSHEEPSCLOTHING THEGINGERBREADHOUSEISAWOLFINSHEEPSCLOTHING THEGINGERBREADHOUSEISAWOLFINSHEEPSCLOTHING THEGINGERBREADHOUSEISAWOLFINSHEEPSCLOTHING THEGINGERBREADHOUSEISAWOLFINSHEEPSCLOTHING THEGINGERBREADHOUSEISAWOLFINSHEEPSCLOTHING
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I awoke, screaming, half-digested in a monster's stomach, Clau's bones at my side.
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I awoke, screaming, falling through the air and clutching Clau's severed head close to my chest.
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I awoke, screaming, face down in a pool filled with human excrement, my head firmly resting between Clau's naked-
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I awoke, screaming, from my slumber. I looked around. A bedroom. A normal, everyday, run of the mill bedroom.

I collapsed back onto the mattress, breathing heavily. I looked to my left. Clau had woken from her own slumber and propped herself up on one arm to look at me. "Baby, are you okay?" she asked.

I told her I was fine, just a bad dream. I ran my hand along her face. Her skin melted off.
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I awoke, screaming, and began to thrash my arms about wildly, which would have been easier had they not been restrained by the coat I was wearing. I began to breathe heavily, looking back and forth between the walls of my padded cell.

The door opened and light poured in, outlining the doctor's silhouette. She gently cooed my name as she walked over, assuring me everything was okay. "You just had a bad dream. You're back in the world of the waking now. Remember me? Dr. Higgins?"

My voice was raspy. Clearly I had been screaming a lot longer than I thought. "Clau?"

"That's right, Clau," she said, smiling. "Y'know, you're the only patient of mine who calls me that."

I laughed, managing a weak smile. She was a nice doctor.

"Are you going to be alright now?" she asked me.

I looked around my cell, and then nodded. I should be fine.

"Alright then. Goodnight, and remember, we have a session tomorrow!" she said, her sweet voice ringing in my ears.

The door shut. I sighed and closed my eyes. Then I woke. My eyes darted to the corner of my cell, where something had unfolded itself. I tried to wake up. I even tried to scream.
We often remember dreams in the most spectacular fashion just after we've woken up. However, as we go on with our lives, details are lost and what was once fantastic becomes mundane.

My first stab at sort of a psychological horror type story (albeit with a touch of comedy). Hey, writing it gave me nightmares, so it must be pretty good.

Enjoy!
© 2010 - 2024 Sane-Intolerant
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I usually don't read this kind of stuff (and by this kind of stuff, I mean longer than a page), but...um...wow. I'm a little bit stunned right now, because that was pretty amazing. It was pretty amazingly strange. It was pretty amazingly strangely...I dunno, I'm out of words. Brilliant.