CatJones
Amateur Weeb
You, like most people in the world, don't remember falling asleep. Another day of your less then perfect life, another day of the monotonous motions that you have to go through, partly for yourself, partly for those around you who seemed to care for you, for your well being. That number seems like it should be higher. None the less, you fell asleep just as you did every other night of your life. Awake one moment, asleep the next. Nestled in your bed, your futon, what have you, comfortable in the idea that at least sleep was a pleasant escape from the trials of living.
But that night, something had felt off. The air was heavier. It felt like someone else was there, listening and waiting. Yet, the presence in the air didn't seem to bother you. It felt vividly like you were at some level of calm from a bygone time in your life. So you ignored it and went to bed.
Your dreams, however calm or anxious they had been in the past, felt nothing like this one. This dream was dark and miserable, a pressure that felt like it was on the verge of breaking bones and bruising organs. Like you had awoken in the depths of the ocean, all of its pressure bearing down on like you with all of the guilt of the world following behind it. Yet, still, you felt strangely calm. Perhaps it was the one thing in the dark that let you imagine that everything was okay. In any other circumstance, it would have probably been an omen towards the end of your life instead of this seeming rebirth.
A light. Distant and hazy, but at the same time bright and warm. The light looked like it could have been a star in the night sky. It felt like it was sitting on your chest, burning comfortably into you. Ah! It was getting closer. The light grew and grew and grew until it was all you could see. It didn't blind you, try as it might, it simply was the new existence of this dream world. Light banishing dark. The pressure lifted with the vanishing of that dark abyss, replaced with feeling weightless. Floating among clouds.
This sensation of being free of the world and all of its troubles was when you noticed him. Him, if that word was the correct moniker for the suited thing that gently and suddenly fluttered into your peripheral vision. He stood calmly as you brought your attention to him. Without thinking or trying, you shifted to focus on him, your body turning to face him.
Tall, if such a small word could describe someone so vastly larger then life. He stood head and shoulders and torso above you. His suit was well fitted to his thin build. Try as you might, you could not see past the light of his face, shining brightly like a floodlight on a moonless night. His presence was both commanding and quiet at the same time; like he was just the envelop of the letter from a lover you would prefer forgotten as you refuse to open and read it.
He spoke first, his voice booming and powerful. Yet in the narrowness of your mind it sounded like a whisper. His voice itself like honeyed whiskey, sweet and enticing, convincing you to swallow his words all the easier.
“Hello, little mortal.” He began, almost as if he was as nervous as you were. He hung on every syllable, almost as if he wasn't sure if he was using the right vernacular.
“It has been a long few eons since I last spoke to one of your kind in this fashion. We have been watching you for quite some time now. You are one of many of your kind, singled out for the hardships you have faced in this life. It hasn't been fair, has it?”
He moved without moving, a few feet to the side, almost as if he was simply moving for the sake of it. “Your kind was made for something far greater then this. This petty violence and shameful evil that your species has fallen into. Disgraceful really. All this suffering in the world, most of it meaningless. Your suffering is proof that you are ready for the next step, however. So very few of your kind make this crucial journey, let alone to the foot of it. To stand on the precipice of greatness is a kindness unto itself. It seems cruel though, doesn't it? To let you suffer up to this point just to step in and fix it with the flick of a wrist.”
Again he moved, a few feet to the other side, gone in blink. Back in the next.
“I'm giving you a gift from a power you'll never understand, perhaps one you don't even believe in. For so long your life has been in the hands of those around you, those who don't seem to have the best intentions for you or your future. I wish I could pretend that I am giving you the illusion of choice but alas, such a thing isn't available this time around. You've been chosen and will accept this power."
“You will never tire again, this will be the last night where you sleep ever again. Illness will ignore you, you will be the perfect symbol of health. The powers you will gain will place you above your fellow man into the realms of both the divine and sinful. You will never want for anything again. Instead, you will understand the want of this world. This world is wounded. A deep seeping wound that refuses to heal as humanity and other things irritate the wound so that it won't heal. They thrive on the misery of this planet. If they had any idea what it was they were playing with they might at least attempt to act with a little more grace and gratitude.”
A strange sound echoed in the distance, the steady hum of an alarm clock. The tall mans shoulder slumped, ending the otherwise perfect posture he had up to that point. "Ah, but even I hold only so much sway over time itself. I doubt we shall ever cross paths again. I'm certain that the change you've been hoping for will come soon. Until then, little mortal. Awe, morituri te salutant."
And from this strange dream, you woke up. Awoke to your mundane life.
But that night, something had felt off. The air was heavier. It felt like someone else was there, listening and waiting. Yet, the presence in the air didn't seem to bother you. It felt vividly like you were at some level of calm from a bygone time in your life. So you ignored it and went to bed.
Your dreams, however calm or anxious they had been in the past, felt nothing like this one. This dream was dark and miserable, a pressure that felt like it was on the verge of breaking bones and bruising organs. Like you had awoken in the depths of the ocean, all of its pressure bearing down on like you with all of the guilt of the world following behind it. Yet, still, you felt strangely calm. Perhaps it was the one thing in the dark that let you imagine that everything was okay. In any other circumstance, it would have probably been an omen towards the end of your life instead of this seeming rebirth.
A light. Distant and hazy, but at the same time bright and warm. The light looked like it could have been a star in the night sky. It felt like it was sitting on your chest, burning comfortably into you. Ah! It was getting closer. The light grew and grew and grew until it was all you could see. It didn't blind you, try as it might, it simply was the new existence of this dream world. Light banishing dark. The pressure lifted with the vanishing of that dark abyss, replaced with feeling weightless. Floating among clouds.
This sensation of being free of the world and all of its troubles was when you noticed him. Him, if that word was the correct moniker for the suited thing that gently and suddenly fluttered into your peripheral vision. He stood calmly as you brought your attention to him. Without thinking or trying, you shifted to focus on him, your body turning to face him.
Tall, if such a small word could describe someone so vastly larger then life. He stood head and shoulders and torso above you. His suit was well fitted to his thin build. Try as you might, you could not see past the light of his face, shining brightly like a floodlight on a moonless night. His presence was both commanding and quiet at the same time; like he was just the envelop of the letter from a lover you would prefer forgotten as you refuse to open and read it.
He spoke first, his voice booming and powerful. Yet in the narrowness of your mind it sounded like a whisper. His voice itself like honeyed whiskey, sweet and enticing, convincing you to swallow his words all the easier.
“Hello, little mortal.” He began, almost as if he was as nervous as you were. He hung on every syllable, almost as if he wasn't sure if he was using the right vernacular.
“It has been a long few eons since I last spoke to one of your kind in this fashion. We have been watching you for quite some time now. You are one of many of your kind, singled out for the hardships you have faced in this life. It hasn't been fair, has it?”
He moved without moving, a few feet to the side, almost as if he was simply moving for the sake of it. “Your kind was made for something far greater then this. This petty violence and shameful evil that your species has fallen into. Disgraceful really. All this suffering in the world, most of it meaningless. Your suffering is proof that you are ready for the next step, however. So very few of your kind make this crucial journey, let alone to the foot of it. To stand on the precipice of greatness is a kindness unto itself. It seems cruel though, doesn't it? To let you suffer up to this point just to step in and fix it with the flick of a wrist.”
Again he moved, a few feet to the other side, gone in blink. Back in the next.
“I'm giving you a gift from a power you'll never understand, perhaps one you don't even believe in. For so long your life has been in the hands of those around you, those who don't seem to have the best intentions for you or your future. I wish I could pretend that I am giving you the illusion of choice but alas, such a thing isn't available this time around. You've been chosen and will accept this power."
“You will never tire again, this will be the last night where you sleep ever again. Illness will ignore you, you will be the perfect symbol of health. The powers you will gain will place you above your fellow man into the realms of both the divine and sinful. You will never want for anything again. Instead, you will understand the want of this world. This world is wounded. A deep seeping wound that refuses to heal as humanity and other things irritate the wound so that it won't heal. They thrive on the misery of this planet. If they had any idea what it was they were playing with they might at least attempt to act with a little more grace and gratitude.”
A strange sound echoed in the distance, the steady hum of an alarm clock. The tall mans shoulder slumped, ending the otherwise perfect posture he had up to that point. "Ah, but even I hold only so much sway over time itself. I doubt we shall ever cross paths again. I'm certain that the change you've been hoping for will come soon. Until then, little mortal. Awe, morituri te salutant."
And from this strange dream, you woke up. Awoke to your mundane life.
