The Dream Keeper

I woke up too early and couldn’t fall back asleep. I dreamt I was falling down a long tunnel. It was a tunnel made of lacerated people of different races and sexes and such, but they all had my face. They laughed at me. As I fell, I recall a flesh-colored spider chasing me down, waiting for me to hit the bottom and eat me. This was evidently some trap it devised, this spider requiring as much psychological suffering for nourishment as flesh and fluids. When I hit the bottom, impaled on hairy spikes made of legs the spider had shed like a snake sheds his skin, the spider started to eat me. I screamed and kicked, but it didn’t help. I could feel teeth sinking into me, moving upwards, swallowing me. I’d set up my room to be the most comfortable thing for something like me. Dark, because the sunlight stabs my eyes and gives me a splitting, screeching headache like tearing metal in my mind. By the end of the day I feel like the sun is eating me alive like a million cockroaches. ...

H E   awoke in the early morn as something thundered out with the long, mourning call of a foghorn. But it was evidently organic, clearly the noise of a monster animal and not a man-made machine. It warbled near the end, like a bird. That brought to mind the previous night, and all its terrible memories. He tried to shut it out. Tried not to focus on the sheer horror of his situation. He must have fallen asleep after the big ones, the gigantic Falcons that had slain his mother, had drifted away. How stupid of him. He would need to find a safer place, today. He sat up, brushing away upsettingly large insects. He saw a two-foot, black centipede crawl up a tree. Some other, hairy spiders had fled, too. As well as at least one kind of Silverfish-like thing that was as thick as his palm. He looked around. All the trees were cycads, or at least things like them. Some were almost a hundred feet high. There were the white trees, with which he was all too familiar. ...

B L A C K    skies stretched as far as he could see. There was no horizon. There were no stars. He could look around only as far as ten feet in front of him, while he kept running. White trees like pillars seemed to hold up the blanket of moist darkness around him. Trees that spread out long, straight branches of spiky, dripping leaves. Treeswith bark dented, broken and scratched from a thousand conflicts long ended. Testimony to a thousand lives the trees had survived, to a time long forgotten. Perhaps one that should not be. He tried to walk, and the soil cracked and creaked like paper. The ferns beneath him were long and sinister, like the claws of darkness. They seeped in and out of the night as he ran as though they were trying to flee from him. Long, thick creepers and vines stretched between the awful trees and out of the water that flowed through the cracks in the Earth beneath him. Sounds like long, high-pitched echoes – almost like Whale Calls – mourn...

I decided to throw you guys the Jurassic Park theme and the Back to the Future trailer, because those are two movies I like that are remotely time-related, and therefore fitting New Year's. DO NOT QUESTION MY FLAWLESS LOGIC! To be honest, I'd find something else, but I'm a goddamned lazy bum. Really, you all should know this by now. ENJOY!