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dolariI haven't posted this since 2001, and considering I have a LOT more people reading this I'd like some feedback from the new folks, or maybe some reconsideration from the tenured professors. This was a recurring dream I had since I was a little kid. It's the reason I started dream journaling in the first place. It's written in an overly dramatic style, but only because I was going for a dreamstorylike feel when I first wrote this WAAAAAY back when.
The cavern is huge, with a mirror polished razor cut flat floor. A faint grey blue light emanates from the high arched cieling above, stretching so far above the top cannot be seen. Here I sat, crosslegged on the floor, next to, of all things, a very conspicuously placed telephone booth. A mine cart with track was only a short walk away, the track leading into infinity.
The phone rang, shatternig the silence of the cavern with a cacophany of echoes, flying around the cavern. A bit shocked, I got up, and answered the phone without saying a word. A heavily filtered voice flows from the reciever: "This is where we begin."
Robotically, I walk to the minecart. push for momentum, and jump in. The cart flew off into infinity. The track swerved up and down, but never left or right. No curves, no turns, always dead straight. Never a feelng of falling, or flying, or a fear of falling out of the cart.
Within time, a small orange light appeared ahead, and after an eternity, filled my view. It was then, and only then, that I flew.
And then hit grass.
I got up and cleaned the bits of grass off of myself, and turned around to find the minecart gone. Looking aruond, I made a mental note of where I was. The area seemed to be a grass covered flat peak of a huge mountain, the sides of which were very steep and dissapeared off into mist filled canyons miles away. The horizon was filled with other such peaks as far as the eye could see, dark against the orange sky and setting sun.
A glint of reflection turned my head towards what looked to be a roof. Running towards it, I realized it was not just the roof of a house, but the entire top story of a three story house, carved out of the mountain itself. With a reluctant sigh, I opened the door and walked in.
The top floor of the house was completely glass walled, offering a spectacular view of the mountain peaks, and setting orange sun. The room was warm and inviting. In the center of the room, a spiral staircase led downwards into a more foreboding darkness.
Down a story, the room was much less inviting, and colder. Portruding rock made up the walls here, cool and damp to the touch, save for a small window looking out into the orange sky. The staircase continued down...
...where it ended. The last floor was made up of blurred mirrors, with very little reflection to be made out. All except for a small, but ornate mirror on one wall. I looked in, and reflection that returned was not my own.
Stumbling backwards, I backed into the exit, and left in fear.
Walking outside, I looked up to see the mansion carved into the hillside, like some strange modern day Egyptian monument. The orange light of before had become blue, and with the blue, came the colors of the house. Light blue with white trim. Were it not carved miles above the surface of the earth, it might even be inviting.
The lawn of the mansion ended in a sheer cliff down the side of the mountain, but there was ample room around the house for small ornaments and tables. Walking around the side of the house, I saw a line. And, again, robotically, got in line behind the three others.
At the head of the line was a podium, and an older woman leafed through papers behind it. Behind her was an open cellar door. No light pierced the doorway, and looking with was like looking into the backest ebony.
Looking up, the woman behind the podium called the first person in line. A young black boy of about five or six, wearing very little at all. The old woman bent down, whispering in his ear and pointing towards the cellar door. Eagerly, he rushed down the steps as the darkenss enveloped him. And then he screamed.
The second person in line, an adolescent American Indian woman in tribal dress looked at me confused, but took her place in front of the podium, next in line. As the old woman whispered in her ear, the young native walked to the cellar. Looking back, she cautiously walked down into the black. And then she screamed.
The third woman in line, an older fair haired woman in cronline walked up to the podium, visibly shaking. Looking back at me, terror was written across her face. The old woman whispered to the heavily dressed young woman, and pointed her down to the cellar. The woman halted, frozen like a deer waiting for a lion to pounce, but after a visible sigh, she resigned herself to the cellar. She softly walked down into the depth. And then she screamed.
I walked up to the podium, and the darkness beyond filled me with dread, but a sense of resolve and purpose. So it was a strange surprise when the woman whispered in my ear "It's okay. You can leave. Just DON'T look back."
I was confused, but eager to leave the scene of what seemedd to be three horrible deaths. I ran to the edge of the mansion, but before I turned the corner...I looked back.
The podium was gone, the woman was gone, but the cellar doors were wide open. And a bloodcurdling growl came from within the cellar..
Running around the corner, I pressed my back to the mansion, and closed my eyes. And my back became warm. And then burned. I pulled away from the house to see the whole house was on fire, and the mountains around me burning. The air was hot and filled with smoke, and overhead smoke covered the sky.
And was that my imagination, or were there SOMETHINGS flying over the cloud layer? The world burned. I sat crosslegged on the lawn, crying, waiting for the firestorm to take me, when a hand touched my shoulder.
Scared, I recoiled at the touch on my shoulder, and came face to face with a woman wearing some sort of face plate and heavy coat. Her face was lit blue behind the mask, and her smile was one of pure beauty. Turning around, I looked back into the burning sky, and saw more shapes flying overhead, leaving shadows on the smoke layer. Until one broke through, aimed right at her.
As the thing hit me, I did not feel fear, or shock, or terror. But was filled with peace and joy when it killed me.
