OOC: Birth Dream
The Dream
The tavern was alive with noise as the grinning man, his mind slurred with alcohol and his body boiling with a thirst for violence, cracked his fist into one person after another. They came at him, some landing blows, some receiving them, but the pain didn’t matter. The whole thing was too damn big a thrill. He heard someone behind him. Coiling his fingers tighter, the man turned…
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…and crawled out of the earth. Soil was caked in every spare crevice of his body and buried under his nails, but the weight was laughable. There was light - moonlight - and through his quickly widening peephole, the man could see the fringes of a person. It was…
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…a lifetime of blood and pain and screaming. It was impossible to pick out one moment from the next, to distinguish between gory swaths. It was an endless stream of hedonistic barbarism and the man was in the middle of it all. It was…
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…quite a sight. The woman, her hair long and black and tussled, looked at him with such horror. She was at the end of her mental rope, and it showed in her eyes. The man looked away from her, turning his gaze to another woman, a blonde adorned in a big, billowing dress, and she was…
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…the most beautiful girl he had ever laid eyes on. It wasn’t a fact that failed to occur to him every time he saw her, of course, but it had never been so apparent as now, as her nails dug into his back and her breath washed across his neck in hot, scalding plumes. They…
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…had done it. He was dead. Standing in the midst of emergency vehicles and their whirring lights, their sirens long since quieted, the man knew it was time to leave. A great grief weighed down his heart, but there was no need to…
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…sing. He was singing, his nerves wracked with anxiety and a horrid embarrassment, while an audience of demons and monsters and people gawped on.
“Oh, Mandy. Well you came and you gave without taking, but I sent you away, oh Mandy. Well, you kissed me and stopped me from shaking. And I need you today, oh Mandy…”
His voice creaked to a yet more brutal level, and he wished…
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…that he could actually go somewhere that wasn’t host to some dark secret. Garbed in white, he exited the monastery with no small amount of agitation riding his back. He…
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…was so hungry! Oh God, oh God, oh God; it was maddening. He thought his stomach was going to crawl out of his throat and his skin was going to fray and shred. He screamed in the confines of his metal box, a fish swimming across his narrow field of vision, and he…
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…stood in the rain, every heavy drop clinging to him, soaking him through and through. Hell was on the horizon, an army of nightmares, and he knew he wasn’t going to survive. He needed a miracle. They all did.