Strange Dreams

Strange dreams plague the settlements, shared by all but differing in small details

I Can't Breathe

Ash everywhere, the sky thundered like a cannonade from the heavens. My hands unrecognizable buried deep in the ashen fluff that now kept man from divine earth. Wait, my ring, it must have fallen. Another cough, black, but red as well - that this black curse both suffocates and eviscerates is its most hellish property. It must be here, but now the blood smears the soot, and the sky roars again. The sky swirled with light and flame, this is what it means to see your own death. It must be here, one last chance - hands digging into the ash, throwing it up in the sky like a miniature replica of Waxwing, blood as lava searing the sky and kissing my skin. I can't leave it, it is my last memory of her. Ash, ever ash.

Circle of Songs

You stand in the middle of a lake, oversized lillypads circling you, atop each a creature more wondrous then the last. One at a time they open their mouth and sing a song, a strange song, but familiar. It reminds you of a night long ago when you were young, when you swore you heard the most wonderful song in the woods, far from the settlement. You almost found it, but your friends were there then, holding you back while you screamed.

The Devil in the Sand

A battle, not any war like you have fought, desperate men stand back to back facing hideous mottled beasts rising from the sandy hills around you. They chortle in their hideous tongue, waving mandibles with razor sharp ends at the numerous randomly equipped militia men. The battle is a blur of sand, blood, and screams. You tilt your visor up, brushing off the sand now caked to it with the mortar of blood, both yours and the creatures. They are numerous, unending - more come, circling the base of the ridges, blocking egress to the shelter of the ancient walls you left behind. This is your time, this is your stand, you heft your blade and rush to your allies aid...

I Used to Play

"I Used to Play" I said to the boy. He wasn't frightened of me, not disgusted, not like most. If I could capture his curiosity, his naive impulse for friendship, I would - to keep me warm on the cold nights when others would take what little shelter I could scrounge up. The piano was gorgeous, an antique craft, like the ones I would use to gently tease out the symphonies to the delight of the nobles of the sea houses. Not any longer. "How can you play" he asked me, I could almost laugh, but I wouldn't - the noise would draw his family, would draw their eyes, would invoke their fear, their disgust, their loathing. Just another moment, just another second to forget what the rot took from, to remember a time when I sang like a silver bird.

To Live

It wasn't life without death, and I aimed to live. The Warship had been stuck on the outcrop of rock for at least a day, their outrigging jawjacked belowdecks to get them dislodged next high tide, not a bad idea but it leaves them laying sideways staring at the sky, looking for a bruising, and I love giving out a bruising. "AT EM MEN, FIRST ONE TO GUT A CARR GETS TA CAPTAIN THIS BRIG." I had a way with words, and with swords. With their ship pushed up out of the sea like a drunk seal we came up safe from arrow fire, and the fools had taken their armor off to work the rigging. Lot of blood that day, plenty of glory to go around. The captain I spared, left him on the rock, give the man a fighting chance. Hope he comes looking for revenge, that'll be a good day.

Words With Fiends

Ashen mouths screamed as the Serpent and the Dragon stalked one another - I was in the dark and the dark was my friend. Their were others, too many, all with masks, all screaming fire and ash, the dark was safe and I hid in it. They laughed and tore the lid from a vial of flame, but I knew the dark and I was safe there. The flames grey heads, malformed twins that bit and gnashed and clawed at one another, their eyes were sigils and their mouths were horns - but I was always safe there, in the unnamed place where mother left me, so I knew the fear would pass. But the flames were bright, the brothers fought, and the sparks were singing now, so many voices - the gathering was a shape that burned my eyes, and I saw, the dark lifted, the Serpent's gaze, she saw me, but said nothing, as the Dragon slavered and stalked. I left the dark, as it was tore away, as the night became day, and fire dawned across the sky.

From On High

His death was mandated, by an authority inviolable, by the many hands of the beaurecratic divine. My hands were the ones left holding the knife, mine were the ones now stained in red, mine were the hands that struggled when the mandate was not executed cleanly. I felt nothing for the man, I did not know him, I could not blame him or pardon him, but shouldn't I care to, care to know the names slipped to me on crinkled paper, the names held aloft in contemplation of eternal punishment by a committee that knows them less than I. I was trained not to think these thoughts. I am bent, broken, unwieldy.

Little Man Munchie

They were off! 10 of the finest rats the docks had ever seen, same as every day - 'cept today I had an edge. Munchie, little man munchie, my best friend for the past six months, was going to make it all the way, was going to get first. I didn't have anything bet on the race, fuck I didn't even have anything for food, but Munchie was my friend and today we was gonna win. I could see it already, those other rats come right off the garbage heaps and piles of trash around the dock, just tosses in there chasing some grub. Munchie though, he's a pro, look at him, focused - already ahead, almost there munchie, ALMOST THERE.