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« on: February 20, 2023, 10:50:12 pm »
I just forced myself awake. It's 2:50. I'm currently horrified, terrified, and physically shaken. This is an unusually strong reaction to a dream for me. My torchlight is on so I won't be isolated in the darkness, surrounded by its dreadful potentiality. I'm almost too scared to recount the dream in case that makes it real.
The exact details are hazy. I was in a cave complex, I was in a mansion, I was in a forest. But there was one common theme. A woman, who was a close associate, was hunting me. Part of her arsenal were these creatures with white, manic faces. Like masks painted mad. They could assume different shapes, and I eventually realised their forms reflected the recently dead. I thought I was capable of helping them, because they were suffering. I was not scared of them.
I had escaped the mansion and was in the cave complex. There were three masked figures, deformed and somehow different. These were profoundly sadistic, evil, and I realised they were shaped like children. There was nothing and no one else around, in stark contrast to the shenanigans I got up to in the mansion.
These child-like horrors acted differently to the others when I attempted to offer aid. I'd succeeded in the past, sometimes. The creatures disappeared for a time at least. But these just grew more disquieting.
And, as I failed spectacularly to help, I made eye-contact with one. There was a viceral reaction felt in my dream and real body alike. The eyes were like onyx, and I was being suffocated in their darkness. This was a moment which somehow stretched.
And suddenly I knew.
It had never been multiple beings, just the three before me. All my previous adventures and exploits of daring-do, they had been there. A note of unrealised Lovecraftian horror in my James Bond fantasy.
The eyes were drowning me. I couldn't breathe. I'd fatally miscalculated the situation. My breathing got tighter. And I knew what they were.
These were my own children. Unborn. A foetal evil, twisted to constantly hunt me. Somehow I knew the depth of their suffering. It was in those eyes. They'd wanted help. But I had been enjoying my adventure, experiencing what they could not. In front of them, over and over.
It had fully broken them.
This time, they would follow me even through the veil of sleep. I forced myself awake regardless.
There are literal tears in my eyes. I'm waiting for twisted white masks. But most upsetting is what I saw in those broken minds, that I could have, should have helped. And that I may deserve what is coming for me.
