The Dream

[madnessarrow]

Julian collapsed under the weight of the nights festivities, the lasting image of a wyvern flickered just outside of his mind. The sheer amount of magic they Fae wielded in this world was astonishing, though not implausible. Julian had used almost every mystical ounce of power he had, not to mention the power from the life-force of several dead Fae. He was completely, totally, and undeniable exhausted. And so he slept. A deep sleep that seemed like falling into the very void monsters are spawned from. A sleep that reached deep into the universe of magic to draw forth energy that sustains, the kind of rest that brings about dreams that are all too real to be dreams and all too impossible to be real.

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Fog. Not the kind of fog that makes the country side appear peaceful. Not the kind of fog that makes lakes look serene, but the kind of fog that conceals the world twenty feet away from you. The kind of fog that exists but doesn't collect as drops of water on surfaces. The kind of fog that clouds minds and seeks to consume weary travelers who have lost their path on roads less traveled.

Julian

Something, someone, called his name in the fog. He walked, his steps made no sounds, his breath was silent, even the beating of his heart was silenced in this dense medium of white vapor. Julian was aware he was dreaming, yet seemed unable to wake, something held him here and he was concerned about his ever weakening power. He has just left the battle field only to be pulled across the Dreamscape and trapped here within the fog. So he walked, slowly in a direction he could only understand as forward. He took a moment to notice his clothing. Odd, that one would not know how they were dressed. He had on dirty, faded blue jeans, tattered shoes, a white cotton shirt with what appeared to be ash stains, and an old military style green jacket stained with grease and ash as well. These were not his clothes, yet they seemed to fit well enough.

Julian

It wasn't a voice, so much as a thought. It echoed in the fog but seemed to come from his own internal voice. Telepathy or even though casting would be well within a mage's capabilities if he was, in fact, under magical assault. Though in so far as yet he had not been attacked so he continued on. He couldn't sense anything even with his innate abilities, but then if everything is made of magic it would be indistinguishable to him without a backdrop of mundane for contrast. Which in effect told him he was not, as they say amongst dimension hoppers, in Kansas anymore. He had a pretty good idea he was on the Dreamscape, though where exactly was behind him. It felt in-between yet not astral. It looked nightmarish yet no creature tears at his flesh.

JULIAN

The voice was tangible and Julian felt as if he had been gut punched by someone who had no hobbies besides weight-lifting. His arm went out as if to stabilize himself against a wall, a wall that shouldn't have been there, but was. His focus shifted from the ground to the wall that his hand rested against. Brick, red brick, old red brick, he ran his fingers along the surface as he steadied his breath. Red brick, damaged by water, old brick covered in ash. This was the wall from an industrial port town. As he ran his fingers along the wall just out of sight a street sign slowly faded into view. So, this was a town. He thought to himself. Well, maybe someone can give me directions out of it

He approached the intersection of Wolfe St. and Wilson St. Julian glanced to his right down Wilson St. and saw the familiar trappings of a hospital. He turned right and traveled down the road aware now of cars, newspaper boxes, parking meters, and the fire hydrant at the intersection. The fog was still heavy but his field of vision had extended to about 100 feet. And he was in fact in a town, a ghost town, but a town nonetheless. His stuck his hands inside the jacket pockets, then withdrew his right hand holding a small mag-lite. He chuckled a little then slipped his right hand back into the jacket.

"Hello?" He spoke, a little louder than most people did when outside. "I know I won’t like the answer, but, is there anyone out there?"

Julian

He turned quickly, facing the front of the hospital emergency and ambulance entrance. The voice had come from inside the building, or maybe just the back of his head it was hard to tell. He reached out again to get a feel for magic and was assaulted by what can only be described as magical white noise, at volumes reserved only for the worst horror movies. He clutched his head in agony as he writhes in pain. "Sonuvabitch!!" He yelled, "What the fuck is the big deal!? I was just trying to take a look." He flexed the fingers in his right hand. "Jesus. Give a guy a break. I'm new."

He slipped his hands back into the pockets of his jacket and looked about the front of the building. It hadn't been used in sometime. The glass was smudged with ash and grease. Inside he could almost make out medical equipment such as wheel chairs and I.V. stands tipped over and in disarray. He slowly approached. In all logic, if something wanted him to go here he should do everything in his power to go the opposite direction, but then again. Something brought him here and it's not like he was going to just wait at the bus station until he could catch a ride out of town. So he pushed forward, literally, pushing the glass doors open with both hands he entered into the hospital.

He entered the Reception room and looked about, the doors quietly closed behind him as he fished out the mag-lite from his coat pocket. He turned it on and scanned the area. Paper covered almost every inch of desk, broken glass covered the floor, and there seemed to be small amounts of ash on several surfaces. But there was not fog, only darkness. He slowly walked towards the reception desk and ran the flash light over the room. He walked over to the door and pushed on it gain access to the room behind the desk. He scanned his corners and angles as he moved towards the receptionist chair. He tried the computer, which surprisingly sprang to life. He sat down turning the mag-lite off to conserve power, no doubt that it wouldn't last forever. He began typing away at the keys searching the software for information.

Luckily, the computer was no password protected. Though, given this desk was staff 24 hours a day, it was not all to unusual. He began to search through patient files, doctor’s names, phone number extensions, as well as a printable copy of the hospitals lay-out. It seemed all to well placed. But regardless, he began to read the patient files, all to weary to travel any further into the hospital. Let's see how well in depth this world is.

Time would seem to pass as Julian clicked away at the computer, unaware, as something shifted in the shadows behind him. The light of the computer blinded Julian to anything in his peripherals and made him stand out in the dark like a glowing beacon. A silent foot touched the floor behind him, bare feet, silent as a falling feather. Julian's finger tapped the down key, one more page. The thing stepped forward again, dirty green surgery scrubs stained with dried blood, rust, dirt, ash, oil, and all manner of filth adorned leg and thigh. Another step closer. Julian rubbed the back of his neck, twisting it slightly popping it in the process.

Another step, ripped and torn surgery scrubs revealed ash white skin, caked in blood and loose tissue. Muscular torso, with black rot, and accents of putrescence. A twisted hand, held scalpel slowly rising above Julian's head. A twisted face, featureless, through rendered flesh literately spun as in placed inside a blender for one rotation. Another step, the creatures shadow crept up the wall behind it, back-lit by the screen of the computer.

Julian

He turned around, the voice again, emanating from the back of his mind. "What the fuck!" Julian leapt out of his chair back against the wall. The surgeon swung at where he had been just moments prior and then turned its featureless face towards Julian. "Great, a nightmare. Just what I wanted after a battle with a wyvern." He slowly inched along the wall his hands frantically feeling for something anything to use as a weapon. "Alright, look here guy. I'm not really in the mood for whatever bull shit has been conjured up here. I'm tired, drained, and otherwise not very hospitable to this. So just fuck off back to the hole you where spawned from and send me on my way to the bath house of sinful pleasure."

As he talked he tried to reach out, shield, sword, flash of purple anything. His magic seemed to be a world away, no doubt contained within the Real World, while his consciousness drifted in this one. The creature stepped towards him head cocked unnaturally, its movements jerky, it approached an armed Julian. It swung, blade out, Julian's arms came up to defend him from an attack that never landed.

---
Julian sat up, covered in a sheet of sweat. His clothes clinging to him like a second skin. He lifted his right hand to his temple. "Fucking hell, this had better just be stress." He got up removed his clothes, found a glass of water, and crawled back to bed. Bath house of sin and pleasure. He thought to himself. And make it snappy