My Nightmare
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My Nightmare
It started in the barn back at the compound. The wind was howling, the rain was pouring and thunder was crashing. The horses and cattle were shifting nervously as the barn creaked and groaned under the storms fury.
The greater fury was inside the barn however. I was mucking out the stalls by lantern light. I was about 17 or so and as angry as I could be. I’d just heard the news that had shattered my world, my hopes and my dreams.
The sound of the storm surged suddenly and then faded again. Someone had opened and closed the door. “Ron! Ron where are you? Don’t be mad at me, I want to talk to you.”
Not her, not now. I need to be angry.
“There you are.” She came around the corner of the stall. The wind had swept off her bonnet and mussed her hair. The rain had soaked her dress and left her hair clinging to her face. Her eyes were swollen from crying.
Yet she was still the most beautiful person I have ever seen.
“Hello Sarah.” I tried to keep my voice neutral while a dozen coyotes tore at my intestines.
“Ron, don’t be that way with me, I don’t like this any more than you do.” She took a half step towards me. Everyone in the compound knew what I could do when provoked and did their best to prevent that. Even though I’d never directed any anger at her, she didn’t want to move to close.
I took it out on the shovel and threw it hard against the stall wall. “It’s not about what you and I don’t like. That’s the problem. You and I were supposed to get married. Not you and . . . him.”
“Ron, don’t you be speaking of your father like that.” She put her hands on her hips and looked up at me.
“Isn’t it a little early for you to start speaking like my stepmother?”
As usual, I hit the bulls-eye.
The tears rose immediately. “Ron, I love you, you know I love you. I can’t help it if the elders decided that it was best for our families to marry but didn’t say who. I can’t help it if my father decided that you’re too young to be married yet. I can’t help it if tomorrow I have to promise your father before god to be his faithful wife when you are the only man I’ve ever wanted.”
I won’t admit t many weaknesses, but her tears are definitely on the list.
“And I can’t help it if tonight is the last and only chance I’m going to ever have to be with the man I love.” She stepped forward and threw her arms around my neck.
“Ron . . . please . . .”
“Sarah . . . I . . .”
I looked up at me from my embrace. “So this is where it begins, doesn’t it?” I sneered. “The betrayal . . . the heresy . . . the apostasy.”
I let go of myself and stepped backwards into an Armageddon. Fire and wind, water and earth had all broken their restraints and were pummelling the city around me. Tears in the fabric of reality appeared to let through demons and devils of all description to prey upon the panicked inhabitants.
I turned to face myself.
“You can’t stop it, Apostate.” I told me. “The unworthy are doomed and damned. When the Lord brings and end to his age none but the worthy shall prevail. They will join the Lord and sweep the unholy from this world and bring about a new millennium, the Lord’s millennium.”
“You’re wrong.” I yelled back as buildings crumbled around me. “They are not the unworthy, they are the innocent, we must protect them. We have to stop this tragedy. We need to save them.”
“Save them? You can’t even save yourself anymore, Apostate.” I gestured over head as a building collapsed, tons of debris hurtling towards me.
I raised my arms to shield myself.
The glare of the headlights was too much for my eyes after stepping out of that dark cathedral. The little girl I carried also buried her eyes in my shoulder and shivered. “It’s okay Kelly, that’s your dad. He’s come to take you home.”
As if on cue a man stepped from the car. “Kelly? Are you . . . is she okay?”
“Daddy?”
I gently set her down and she ran towards her father as her father ran to her.
I watched the reunion for a moment, knowing what I couldn’t have.
I stepped back towards the darkness, it was time to leave. I wondered where Mr. Fluffers had gotten to. You can never trust a cat to stick around when you need them.
A hand on my shoulder stopped me, I turned around. “You got your daughter back, what more do you need Agent Smith?”
“To thank you and to shake your hand, Ron.”
I looked him in the eyes. “No more tricks. You proved you are the real deal. In fact, I’m going to do what I can to help you out.” He said. “Also, please call me Ted.”
I looked at the outstretched hand, then extended mine and clasped it.
I grabbed my hand hard and stared into hard into my eyes. “I see Apostate that you are helping the forces of evil now. Your Agent Smith is one of the unworthy. He is one of those who would help the forces of the unholy to take this world and all souls within it.”
“You’re wrong again” I told myself. “He is a good man. He cares for people. He helps me to protect innocents that neither of us could protect alone.”
“Silence Apostate!” I delivered a backhand which sent me reeling to the ground next to a tombstone. I was in a graveyard. It was a cold Christmas Eve. Both of me were now dressed in rags like street people. I held a three quarter empty bottle of liquor in my hand and raised it above me. “I know all your secrets now. I am going to track down your allies. They will have the chance to join us and be saved . . . or deny us and be damned along with the unworthy and the unholy.”
I swung the bottle down hard, breaking it across my temple. I leap on me and pulled my head back by my hair. I pulled the jagged bottle back, preparing to thrust at my throat. “You, Apostate, are not worthy of offering the choice. You die, now.” The shards raced towards my neck.
Searing pain on my cheek awoke me with a start. I knocked Mr. Fluffers flying from the bed with a startled yelp.
I spent the next few moments taking in my bearings. Mr. Fluffers got back up on the bed and gave me a few imperative meows. Absentmindedly, I reached over and scratched between his ears. He started to purr. The contented noise let my brain refocus.
A dream. A bad one. But not that out of place since I left the compound.
My face was damp with sweat. I got up and went to the bathroom to wash. I looked in the mirror.
The bloody wound where the bottle had struck my temple was plainly evident.
So was a scratch across my cheek from a cat’s claws.
It wasn’t a dream.
Mr. Fluffers had woken me up in time to save my life. You can always trust a cat.
I wish you folks could trust me though. I’ve obviously let you all down. The other me knows everything about you that I do and is coming for you.
Watch your backs. Especially those of you I’ve met in person.
Welcome to my nightmare.
The greater fury was inside the barn however. I was mucking out the stalls by lantern light. I was about 17 or so and as angry as I could be. I’d just heard the news that had shattered my world, my hopes and my dreams.
The sound of the storm surged suddenly and then faded again. Someone had opened and closed the door. “Ron! Ron where are you? Don’t be mad at me, I want to talk to you.”
Not her, not now. I need to be angry.
“There you are.” She came around the corner of the stall. The wind had swept off her bonnet and mussed her hair. The rain had soaked her dress and left her hair clinging to her face. Her eyes were swollen from crying.
Yet she was still the most beautiful person I have ever seen.
“Hello Sarah.” I tried to keep my voice neutral while a dozen coyotes tore at my intestines.
“Ron, don’t be that way with me, I don’t like this any more than you do.” She took a half step towards me. Everyone in the compound knew what I could do when provoked and did their best to prevent that. Even though I’d never directed any anger at her, she didn’t want to move to close.
I took it out on the shovel and threw it hard against the stall wall. “It’s not about what you and I don’t like. That’s the problem. You and I were supposed to get married. Not you and . . . him.”
“Ron, don’t you be speaking of your father like that.” She put her hands on her hips and looked up at me.
“Isn’t it a little early for you to start speaking like my stepmother?”
As usual, I hit the bulls-eye.
The tears rose immediately. “Ron, I love you, you know I love you. I can’t help it if the elders decided that it was best for our families to marry but didn’t say who. I can’t help it if my father decided that you’re too young to be married yet. I can’t help it if tomorrow I have to promise your father before god to be his faithful wife when you are the only man I’ve ever wanted.”
I won’t admit t many weaknesses, but her tears are definitely on the list.
“And I can’t help it if tonight is the last and only chance I’m going to ever have to be with the man I love.” She stepped forward and threw her arms around my neck.
“Ron . . . please . . .”
“Sarah . . . I . . .”
I looked up at me from my embrace. “So this is where it begins, doesn’t it?” I sneered. “The betrayal . . . the heresy . . . the apostasy.”
I let go of myself and stepped backwards into an Armageddon. Fire and wind, water and earth had all broken their restraints and were pummelling the city around me. Tears in the fabric of reality appeared to let through demons and devils of all description to prey upon the panicked inhabitants.
I turned to face myself.
“You can’t stop it, Apostate.” I told me. “The unworthy are doomed and damned. When the Lord brings and end to his age none but the worthy shall prevail. They will join the Lord and sweep the unholy from this world and bring about a new millennium, the Lord’s millennium.”
“You’re wrong.” I yelled back as buildings crumbled around me. “They are not the unworthy, they are the innocent, we must protect them. We have to stop this tragedy. We need to save them.”
“Save them? You can’t even save yourself anymore, Apostate.” I gestured over head as a building collapsed, tons of debris hurtling towards me.
I raised my arms to shield myself.
The glare of the headlights was too much for my eyes after stepping out of that dark cathedral. The little girl I carried also buried her eyes in my shoulder and shivered. “It’s okay Kelly, that’s your dad. He’s come to take you home.”
As if on cue a man stepped from the car. “Kelly? Are you . . . is she okay?”
“Daddy?”
I gently set her down and she ran towards her father as her father ran to her.
I watched the reunion for a moment, knowing what I couldn’t have.
I stepped back towards the darkness, it was time to leave. I wondered where Mr. Fluffers had gotten to. You can never trust a cat to stick around when you need them.
A hand on my shoulder stopped me, I turned around. “You got your daughter back, what more do you need Agent Smith?”
“To thank you and to shake your hand, Ron.”
I looked him in the eyes. “No more tricks. You proved you are the real deal. In fact, I’m going to do what I can to help you out.” He said. “Also, please call me Ted.”
I looked at the outstretched hand, then extended mine and clasped it.
I grabbed my hand hard and stared into hard into my eyes. “I see Apostate that you are helping the forces of evil now. Your Agent Smith is one of the unworthy. He is one of those who would help the forces of the unholy to take this world and all souls within it.”
“You’re wrong again” I told myself. “He is a good man. He cares for people. He helps me to protect innocents that neither of us could protect alone.”
“Silence Apostate!” I delivered a backhand which sent me reeling to the ground next to a tombstone. I was in a graveyard. It was a cold Christmas Eve. Both of me were now dressed in rags like street people. I held a three quarter empty bottle of liquor in my hand and raised it above me. “I know all your secrets now. I am going to track down your allies. They will have the chance to join us and be saved . . . or deny us and be damned along with the unworthy and the unholy.”
I swung the bottle down hard, breaking it across my temple. I leap on me and pulled my head back by my hair. I pulled the jagged bottle back, preparing to thrust at my throat. “You, Apostate, are not worthy of offering the choice. You die, now.” The shards raced towards my neck.
Searing pain on my cheek awoke me with a start. I knocked Mr. Fluffers flying from the bed with a startled yelp.
I spent the next few moments taking in my bearings. Mr. Fluffers got back up on the bed and gave me a few imperative meows. Absentmindedly, I reached over and scratched between his ears. He started to purr. The contented noise let my brain refocus.
A dream. A bad one. But not that out of place since I left the compound.
My face was damp with sweat. I got up and went to the bathroom to wash. I looked in the mirror.
The bloody wound where the bottle had struck my temple was plainly evident.
So was a scratch across my cheek from a cat’s claws.
It wasn’t a dream.
Mr. Fluffers had woken me up in time to save my life. You can always trust a cat.
I wish you folks could trust me though. I’ve obviously let you all down. The other me knows everything about you that I do and is coming for you.
Watch your backs. Especially those of you I’ve met in person.
Welcome to my nightmare.
Last edited by Ron Caliburn on Sat Dec 17, 2011 2:10 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Well this thing seemed to have been spawned out of my Sister's nightmare. It loosk a lot like me, with a few elemens of my father when he was younger.
The personality takes the worst of us both. It combines my agression (which I admit I have too much of) with my father's beleif that he and his chosen people will fight at god's side during the armagedon and twists it all into something . . . worse.
I think it's trying to recruit for armegedon. You can either join it, or it will kill you.
Both me and my father belive in bypassing strong points of resistence until they can be dealt with later. I suspect if you defeat it once it will not be back until it's finsihed the rest of the list of Society members I know. Then it will loop back. I also suspect t will try to gain the identiies of other Society members from those it comes in contact with. So if you've met someone who's met someone who's met me, you are still in danger.
I half expect it will go after folks who claim to have magic at their disposal first, since my father lives by the "you will not suffer a witch to live" creed.
I've been contacting my non-Lazlo affiliated allies to let them know this is coming.
The personality takes the worst of us both. It combines my agression (which I admit I have too much of) with my father's beleif that he and his chosen people will fight at god's side during the armagedon and twists it all into something . . . worse.
I think it's trying to recruit for armegedon. You can either join it, or it will kill you.
Both me and my father belive in bypassing strong points of resistence until they can be dealt with later. I suspect if you defeat it once it will not be back until it's finsihed the rest of the list of Society members I know. Then it will loop back. I also suspect t will try to gain the identiies of other Society members from those it comes in contact with. So if you've met someone who's met someone who's met me, you are still in danger.
I half expect it will go after folks who claim to have magic at their disposal first, since my father lives by the "you will not suffer a witch to live" creed.
I've been contacting my non-Lazlo affiliated allies to let them know this is coming.
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Walking nightmares?
Dreams coming to life and hunting people, how odd. I have nightmares sometimes, lots, but most of them are harmless unless I mistakenly do something in my sleep, window insurance in a must for the apartment owners, cant help it if I wake up casting, but never have my dreams come to life and done things on their own, they stay in my head with everything else. What is causing this, who, why, need to make it stop I think, society casters are a target too, not good, at least I am near KT for now, Im on vacation, Chicago smells funny, it would be unwise for something to try and bother either of us when the other is so near, too many people can get hurt here though, got to find the problem and stop it.
What can I do to help?
What can I do to help?
The flows of magic are whimsical today, and by that I mean they kicked my butt.
Greetin's From Maine
Howdy Ron, seems like ya got an ass load of trouble there. But yer story is soundin awfully familiar to this fella I knew. Actually you two pretty much alike, guess why it sounds the same. The guy had a difficult past, confronted it, and buried it, but it wouldn't stay buried. Turns out his other side, started to grow on its own, creatin a life for itself from all that buried darkness. Until one day it went and freed itself. Maybe this thing wasn't created by your sister, maybe it was created by you, and it was going after her when Shades interfeared. If it wants anything Ron, it wants to forfil your darkest desires and those impulses that you buried long ago. If it wants to hurt anyone, I suggest you protect your loved ones. It won't kill you, not until you have suffered enough. The only way you're gonna be able to find this thing Ron, is to go back, go to the place where you first confronted your "demon", Im sure you'll find a clue there.
I'ld wish ya' all the luck in the world to ya pal, but I have more faith in your strength and faith.
Happy Huntin'
Howdy Ron, seems like ya got an ass load of trouble there. But yer story is soundin awfully familiar to this fella I knew. Actually you two pretty much alike, guess why it sounds the same. The guy had a difficult past, confronted it, and buried it, but it wouldn't stay buried. Turns out his other side, started to grow on its own, creatin a life for itself from all that buried darkness. Until one day it went and freed itself. Maybe this thing wasn't created by your sister, maybe it was created by you, and it was going after her when Shades interfeared. If it wants anything Ron, it wants to forfil your darkest desires and those impulses that you buried long ago. If it wants to hurt anyone, I suggest you protect your loved ones. It won't kill you, not until you have suffered enough. The only way you're gonna be able to find this thing Ron, is to go back, go to the place where you first confronted your "demon", Im sure you'll find a clue there.
I'ld wish ya' all the luck in the world to ya pal, but I have more faith in your strength and faith.
Happy Huntin'
"Too serve and protect", somethin' bout that gets a lil' blurred when dealin' with the supernatural.
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That's an interesting theory Hollister, but where do I go to confront my demons first? Do I confront the demons from the compound? Do I go back to the graveyard and confront the demon I was there? Should I go to the institution and lock myself into one of their rubber rooms for a while? Or the dozen other spots where I've had to face off with the darkness inside of me?
The detailed report I got on this thing says that it came from inside what Shadowstalker called my sister's Dream Pool. Right now that's the theory I'm working on.
In the meantime I'm still trying to get the word out. With the holiday I didn't get to visit Gabrielle to tell her yet. I'll be going in tomorrow to see her. Everybody else has been told as best as I can.
The detailed report I got on this thing says that it came from inside what Shadowstalker called my sister's Dream Pool. Right now that's the theory I'm working on.
In the meantime I'm still trying to get the word out. With the holiday I didn't get to visit Gabrielle to tell her yet. I'll be going in tomorrow to see her. Everybody else has been told as best as I can.
Last edited by Ron Caliburn on Sat Dec 17, 2011 2:22 am, edited 1 time in total.
Eric told me he's leaving soon... We sent the gremlin home, since nobody wanted it, and neither of us particularly wanted it.
As for this... It seems that my warning in the other thread came a bit late. Sorry about that. With Eric around, I've felt so secure, I've found time for video games again. Which of course makes me feel like a damned fool... No rest for the "wicked", as they say, since I'm a filthy magic-user.
Don't know what to tell you about how to deal with this thing. I know it's a living nightmare, created by either Ron or his sister... If it does come after me, I know I'm secure in my own dreams, and I've enough defenses to keep it at bay if it comes after me physically.
Personally, I hope it comes after me philosophically. The line Ron quoted didn't originally contain the word "witch"... It was an old word meaning, roughly translated, "poisoner of spirit", which included anyone who would try to subvert the faith of another person...meaning that this guy, by the very rules he himself holds so dear, should be stoned to death.
If he does attempt to talk to me first, I'll be sure and reproach him for being so ignorant about his own beliefs.
As for this... It seems that my warning in the other thread came a bit late. Sorry about that. With Eric around, I've felt so secure, I've found time for video games again. Which of course makes me feel like a damned fool... No rest for the "wicked", as they say, since I'm a filthy magic-user.
Don't know what to tell you about how to deal with this thing. I know it's a living nightmare, created by either Ron or his sister... If it does come after me, I know I'm secure in my own dreams, and I've enough defenses to keep it at bay if it comes after me physically.
Personally, I hope it comes after me philosophically. The line Ron quoted didn't originally contain the word "witch"... It was an old word meaning, roughly translated, "poisoner of spirit", which included anyone who would try to subvert the faith of another person...meaning that this guy, by the very rules he himself holds so dear, should be stoned to death.
If he does attempt to talk to me first, I'll be sure and reproach him for being so ignorant about his own beliefs.
I am not A bitch...I am THE bitch. And to you, I'm MS Bitch.
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They take more to it than even they're willing to believe.
"You are a filthy non-believer!"
"You're ignorant and wrong, and you deny everything you claim to stand for."
Arguments like this, if you have the knowledge to back them up (which I do), tends to get any zealot's blood boiling. If you had a thermometer that measured intelligence instead of temperatures, and stuck it in their ears when you were making your arguments, you'd see the meter drop through the floor.
Their usual comebacks tend to be something along the lines of "Oh, yeah? Well...well...ur a stupid jurk!" And if they happen to be violently inclined, their attacks become more erratic, less reasonable, and far more easily turned against them.
Ask Willie Long or Shang Li. It's philosophical methodology to prove the wrongness of the zealot in question, and to protect others by destroying the threat.
Although you may have a point... It could hardly be called a "debate" if the zealot has no mental capacity left to debate with.
"You are a filthy non-believer!"
"You're ignorant and wrong, and you deny everything you claim to stand for."
Arguments like this, if you have the knowledge to back them up (which I do), tends to get any zealot's blood boiling. If you had a thermometer that measured intelligence instead of temperatures, and stuck it in their ears when you were making your arguments, you'd see the meter drop through the floor.
Their usual comebacks tend to be something along the lines of "Oh, yeah? Well...well...ur a stupid jurk!" And if they happen to be violently inclined, their attacks become more erratic, less reasonable, and far more easily turned against them.
Ask Willie Long or Shang Li. It's philosophical methodology to prove the wrongness of the zealot in question, and to protect others by destroying the threat.
Although you may have a point... It could hardly be called a "debate" if the zealot has no mental capacity left to debate with.
I am not A bitch...I am THE bitch. And to you, I'm MS Bitch.
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Greetin's From Maine
1) If this thing believes it is a zealot, remember something, a fanatic doubles their efforts while loosing sight of the goal.
2) It may only claim to be whatever it needs to just to get a response out of Ron. I don't think this thing's going after anyone other than Ron and those he cares about, say for those that get in its way.
3) If Ron did in fact create this thing subconsciously, which might just be a possibility, it knows everything he knows, but does not have Ron's humanity, will, or control. This thing is sort of Ron unleashed and void of a conscious.
So its time maybe to ask, what would Ron be doing "if" he never saw the light. Its not much but it ay shed some light on the psyche of this thing.
4) Another thing, which sort of scares me to think of, how far is Ron willing to go, not what he tells us, but deep down. Take that, strip it of a soul and regard. In order to beat this thing, all the card have to laid out on the table, hell this thing knows everything bout him and what he knows bout us anyway, so maybe its about time we did too.
1) If this thing believes it is a zealot, remember something, a fanatic doubles their efforts while loosing sight of the goal.
2) It may only claim to be whatever it needs to just to get a response out of Ron. I don't think this thing's going after anyone other than Ron and those he cares about, say for those that get in its way.
3) If Ron did in fact create this thing subconsciously, which might just be a possibility, it knows everything he knows, but does not have Ron's humanity, will, or control. This thing is sort of Ron unleashed and void of a conscious.
So its time maybe to ask, what would Ron be doing "if" he never saw the light. Its not much but it ay shed some light on the psyche of this thing.
4) Another thing, which sort of scares me to think of, how far is Ron willing to go, not what he tells us, but deep down. Take that, strip it of a soul and regard. In order to beat this thing, all the card have to laid out on the table, hell this thing knows everything bout him and what he knows bout us anyway, so maybe its about time we did too.
"Too serve and protect", somethin' bout that gets a lil' blurred when dealin' with the supernatural.
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Here's another thought from the darkerside of human nature;
how far would Ron go to "save" his sister. I think you all know what I mean. Thats why I doubt that this thingmay have started with the sister.
As stated previously, this thing looked like a cross beween the dad (which is still alive by the way),
and an older Ron. If she hasn't seen Ron in how long how could this thing possibly know what he looks like, how he acts, and what motivations drive him, unless i did come from him. I still say that Shades stumbled across this thing while it was trying to off the sister. In either case though, he did save her. But for how long?
My gut tells me that this thing deep down wants Ron, so hes gotta be the one to call it out. How you deal with a living nightmare though, thats beyond me. If its solid it can be killed right?
If its not solid, ya make it solid, then kill it. Ya still have to find it first, and my gut is tellin me its gonna go back to finish what it started when Shades interupted it.
how far would Ron go to "save" his sister. I think you all know what I mean. Thats why I doubt that this thingmay have started with the sister.
As stated previously, this thing looked like a cross beween the dad (which is still alive by the way),
and an older Ron. If she hasn't seen Ron in how long how could this thing possibly know what he looks like, how he acts, and what motivations drive him, unless i did come from him. I still say that Shades stumbled across this thing while it was trying to off the sister. In either case though, he did save her. But for how long?
My gut tells me that this thing deep down wants Ron, so hes gotta be the one to call it out. How you deal with a living nightmare though, thats beyond me. If its solid it can be killed right?
If its not solid, ya make it solid, then kill it. Ya still have to find it first, and my gut is tellin me its gonna go back to finish what it started when Shades interupted it.
"Too serve and protect", somethin' bout that gets a lil' blurred when dealin' with the supernatural.
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Rhonda's mother still has a few pictures of me she keeps hidden. Rhonda knew me until she was 4. I still have some memories of when I was 4. They are hazy and incomplete now, but when I was 14 I'm sure I could have recalled them better. If Rhonda is gifted, they are likel better still.
There are lot of photos of my father in his late 20s and early 30s around as well. These photos look a lot lke me.
The other me looks like all of the above sources, though a little more generic and less defined.The features which could be used to tell me and my father apart at these ages were undefined to the point that I could just as easily say this thing is my father instead of me.
It didn't come by me last night. I'm going to visit Gabrielle today to see if I can tell her what's going on. I might look into that lucid dreaming stuff KT suggested on my way home.
There are lot of photos of my father in his late 20s and early 30s around as well. These photos look a lot lke me.
The other me looks like all of the above sources, though a little more generic and less defined.The features which could be used to tell me and my father apart at these ages were undefined to the point that I could just as easily say this thing is my father instead of me.
It didn't come by me last night. I'm going to visit Gabrielle today to see if I can tell her what's going on. I might look into that lucid dreaming stuff KT suggested on my way home.
Re: My Nightmare
I hate flying. The planes are always late and very uncomfortable. When I landed at the airport, I was taken to an extended stay hotel by on of our advance team members. I had arrived a day before my team because I had a special delivery to make for Ron. We had also made plans to have a look for Private McVay, who has been worringly missing from these boards lately.
After my arrival, I picked up the package I had for Ron, but he is elsewhere. Instead we arranged that I would meet one of his contacts. I needed a bite to eat. I ate and waited for the contact to arrive. Once the contact arrived, we exchanged greetings and verified each other's identity. That was weird. I started to get paranoid after reading all about Ron's nightmare running loose. The challenge was bulletproof though; but I worry that the transfer will go off without any interference.
Since I was near LA, Ron had given me a few clues and information about our missing private detective McVay. I decided to do some snooping around while I had some free time - I spent almost all night looking, waiting, trying to follow leads. But that is another story for another time. By morning I had to go to the airport to pick up the rest of my team. It was really early in the morning when I arrived at the airport. Of course, their flight had been delayed. They were nearly two hours late. All I wanted was to take them to the hotel and get some sleep since it had been several days since my last sleep longer than 20 minutes. We arrived at the extended stay hotel early in the afternoon, and I stumbled off to bed.
And this is the real reason why I am making this post.
When I woke up it was dark and mostly quiet. I heard some footsteps on the floor. I opened an eye and saw a humanoid coming my way. I pulled my pistol and sprung off the couch. I gave the figure a shove and shouted, "freeze!" Right as I pushed the figure, despite the darkness, I saw something strange. Its face transmogrified into something horrific for a very brief moment, a blink of the eye, but then went back to normal. I immediately recognised what I was dealing with, but not knowning how to fight it, I decided to play cool. It looked like Ron, sort of, but not really. Really strange. Yea, Ron's nightmare had found me.
"Oh, Ron, I'm sorry," and I reached out my other hand to help the nightmare stand up.
"It's ok," he said, as he helped himself to his feet. "I'll see you around." He stepped out of the door and I watched him disappear around the corner, and I never heard him walk down the stairs. With my hearing, I would have heard them.
My mobile phone rang. It was Sasha. He said, "Come over."
"No thanks. I am going to rest some more," I responded. "I am still jet-lagged." I went to my bed, and stared at the ceiling. From time to time I looked at the clock; the minutes ticked by so slow. I could hear things going on outside the room - footsteps and chatter - but then one set of footsteps stopped at my door. I heard the door rattle and it eventually opened up. "Lyosha?" I whispered. "Lyosha, is that you?" I was feeling a bit dazed, unsure if I was really conscious or not.
"Comrade Ivan Sergeevich," a man in a Soviet military dress uniform said in a cold, tight-lipped manner.
"Yes," Vanya (Ivan) responded.
"It is time for comrade Nicolai Ivanovich (that is me) to come with us," the man responded.
Very funny. "Alright guys, let me sleep," I mumbled.
"Kolya, do as you are told," Vanya said to me.
I rubbed my eyes Vanya was standing next to me. The officer was across the room. "No," I responded.
Vanya growled, "Do as you are told, Nicolai Ivanovich!"
"You promised..."
Vanya hissed, "I am not going to tell you again. Do as you are told!"
My eyes flicked around the room. The confusion set in, and I was backed up against the wall. "You promised..." but I was interrupted as two tranquilizer darts hit me in the stomach. I slid down the wall. My vision was blurring. Vanya put some handcuffs on me and then some men came to take me away. I was blinking; everything was foggy and blurry. I tried to call out, but my mouth was not working. I looking at Vanya and just saw the white of his coat. He was not even watching.
Dr Ivan Sergeevich Larionov was like a father to me. He saved my life when I was very young and he raised me like his own. He took care of me, provided for me, and helped me with everything. He was my father, my best friend, and now he was a trecherous bastard.
No, not Vanya. No way.
I regained consciousness. It was dark. It was cold. I looked around and found myself in a bombed out building. I was sitting on the ground, trying to rest against a support beam. I could hear gunfire, but nothing close. Somewhere a battle was ranging. Mortars, rockets, small arms. It felt just like Chechnya for some reason, back in the 1990s, my baptism in fire. It was an intense and terrifying sensation. It was difficult to breathe, and I had a pain in my stomach. I thought maybe I was hit. As I became more aware of the situation I saw Vanya laying at my feet. He had been hit. The nightmare was dressing Vanya's wounds.
"I am going to let him die," the nightmare said to me in English.
My AK was laying across my lap. I lifted it slowly and pointed it at the nightmare. It was shaking in hand, but he was close enough that did not matter. I held down the trigger. I was blinded by the muzzle flash as the weapon rocked in my grip. I took my flashlight, clicked it on, and I saw that nothing was there. I felt helpless, powerless, and alone. I closed my eyes. I put my hand on my stomach expecting to feel the cold wetness of a blood soaked battle fatigues. Then someone whispered my name, but I did not recognise the voice at first. "Kolya? Kolya?" I felt something tugging at my sleeve. And I recognised the voice. I inhaled quickly, like a gasp, but could not exhale. I did not want to open my eyes. "Kolya?" I opened my eyes. I was terrified by what I saw. "You remember me don't you, Kolya?"
"Yes, I remember you," I responded. It was a young boy, one that I remember very well, and think about daily. But that is a private story, which I will leave just by saying it is my greatest regret.
"I'm the one you left to die. You killed me!" the boy said in Russian.
"No, I tried. I... I..."
The boy mocked me, "I... I... The devil take you, Kolya!"
I stood up and saw the nightmare standing before me. And he started mocking me in English. "Vanya, you promised! Vanya you promised! Boo-who-who," and cried like a baby in a mocking manner. He looked at me, "You think you're tough, huh?" Then the nightmare sort of changed tone, apparently trying to be more like Ron, "You killed that little boy. We're supposed to protect people, especially the little innocent ones. You don't deserve to be alive."
I ignored the physical pain, I pushed it somewhere away. I was enraged. I attacked the nightmare. He parried my punch and struck me acorss the nose. I fell back, rolling. He charged. My eyes had teared up from the heavy blow across my nose, and I could feel heavy blood flow out of my nostrils. He knocked me to the ground, and as it knocked my breath out I saw the crimsom mist fly from my mouth. I managed to grab a piece of rubble laying on the ground and smashed the nightmare on the side of his head.
"Kolya! Kolya!"
I recognised the voice. I blinked, there were lights shining in my eyes. "Lyosha? Lyosha, is that you?" I asked. I looked to my left and saw Sasha standing up holding the side of his head. Something had hit him hard, something like the heel of my palm.
"It's OK, stay calm!" Lyosha said. I felt him put his hand on my shoulder.
I was sitting on the floor, leaning against my bed. My head hurt, my eye was swelling shut, my nose was throbbing, and I felt the taste of blood on my lips and in my mouth. I looked down and my shirt was blood-soaked.
"Talk about a nightmare," Lyosha said.
I think we might share rooms now, and sleep in shifts.
After my arrival, I picked up the package I had for Ron, but he is elsewhere. Instead we arranged that I would meet one of his contacts. I needed a bite to eat. I ate and waited for the contact to arrive. Once the contact arrived, we exchanged greetings and verified each other's identity. That was weird. I started to get paranoid after reading all about Ron's nightmare running loose. The challenge was bulletproof though; but I worry that the transfer will go off without any interference.
Since I was near LA, Ron had given me a few clues and information about our missing private detective McVay. I decided to do some snooping around while I had some free time - I spent almost all night looking, waiting, trying to follow leads. But that is another story for another time. By morning I had to go to the airport to pick up the rest of my team. It was really early in the morning when I arrived at the airport. Of course, their flight had been delayed. They were nearly two hours late. All I wanted was to take them to the hotel and get some sleep since it had been several days since my last sleep longer than 20 minutes. We arrived at the extended stay hotel early in the afternoon, and I stumbled off to bed.
And this is the real reason why I am making this post.
When I woke up it was dark and mostly quiet. I heard some footsteps on the floor. I opened an eye and saw a humanoid coming my way. I pulled my pistol and sprung off the couch. I gave the figure a shove and shouted, "freeze!" Right as I pushed the figure, despite the darkness, I saw something strange. Its face transmogrified into something horrific for a very brief moment, a blink of the eye, but then went back to normal. I immediately recognised what I was dealing with, but not knowning how to fight it, I decided to play cool. It looked like Ron, sort of, but not really. Really strange. Yea, Ron's nightmare had found me.
"Oh, Ron, I'm sorry," and I reached out my other hand to help the nightmare stand up.
"It's ok," he said, as he helped himself to his feet. "I'll see you around." He stepped out of the door and I watched him disappear around the corner, and I never heard him walk down the stairs. With my hearing, I would have heard them.
My mobile phone rang. It was Sasha. He said, "Come over."
"No thanks. I am going to rest some more," I responded. "I am still jet-lagged." I went to my bed, and stared at the ceiling. From time to time I looked at the clock; the minutes ticked by so slow. I could hear things going on outside the room - footsteps and chatter - but then one set of footsteps stopped at my door. I heard the door rattle and it eventually opened up. "Lyosha?" I whispered. "Lyosha, is that you?" I was feeling a bit dazed, unsure if I was really conscious or not.
"Comrade Ivan Sergeevich," a man in a Soviet military dress uniform said in a cold, tight-lipped manner.
"Yes," Vanya (Ivan) responded.
"It is time for comrade Nicolai Ivanovich (that is me) to come with us," the man responded.
Very funny. "Alright guys, let me sleep," I mumbled.
"Kolya, do as you are told," Vanya said to me.
I rubbed my eyes Vanya was standing next to me. The officer was across the room. "No," I responded.
Vanya growled, "Do as you are told, Nicolai Ivanovich!"
"You promised..."
Vanya hissed, "I am not going to tell you again. Do as you are told!"
My eyes flicked around the room. The confusion set in, and I was backed up against the wall. "You promised..." but I was interrupted as two tranquilizer darts hit me in the stomach. I slid down the wall. My vision was blurring. Vanya put some handcuffs on me and then some men came to take me away. I was blinking; everything was foggy and blurry. I tried to call out, but my mouth was not working. I looking at Vanya and just saw the white of his coat. He was not even watching.
Dr Ivan Sergeevich Larionov was like a father to me. He saved my life when I was very young and he raised me like his own. He took care of me, provided for me, and helped me with everything. He was my father, my best friend, and now he was a trecherous bastard.
No, not Vanya. No way.
I regained consciousness. It was dark. It was cold. I looked around and found myself in a bombed out building. I was sitting on the ground, trying to rest against a support beam. I could hear gunfire, but nothing close. Somewhere a battle was ranging. Mortars, rockets, small arms. It felt just like Chechnya for some reason, back in the 1990s, my baptism in fire. It was an intense and terrifying sensation. It was difficult to breathe, and I had a pain in my stomach. I thought maybe I was hit. As I became more aware of the situation I saw Vanya laying at my feet. He had been hit. The nightmare was dressing Vanya's wounds.
"I am going to let him die," the nightmare said to me in English.
My AK was laying across my lap. I lifted it slowly and pointed it at the nightmare. It was shaking in hand, but he was close enough that did not matter. I held down the trigger. I was blinded by the muzzle flash as the weapon rocked in my grip. I took my flashlight, clicked it on, and I saw that nothing was there. I felt helpless, powerless, and alone. I closed my eyes. I put my hand on my stomach expecting to feel the cold wetness of a blood soaked battle fatigues. Then someone whispered my name, but I did not recognise the voice at first. "Kolya? Kolya?" I felt something tugging at my sleeve. And I recognised the voice. I inhaled quickly, like a gasp, but could not exhale. I did not want to open my eyes. "Kolya?" I opened my eyes. I was terrified by what I saw. "You remember me don't you, Kolya?"
"Yes, I remember you," I responded. It was a young boy, one that I remember very well, and think about daily. But that is a private story, which I will leave just by saying it is my greatest regret.
"I'm the one you left to die. You killed me!" the boy said in Russian.
"No, I tried. I... I..."
The boy mocked me, "I... I... The devil take you, Kolya!"
I stood up and saw the nightmare standing before me. And he started mocking me in English. "Vanya, you promised! Vanya you promised! Boo-who-who," and cried like a baby in a mocking manner. He looked at me, "You think you're tough, huh?" Then the nightmare sort of changed tone, apparently trying to be more like Ron, "You killed that little boy. We're supposed to protect people, especially the little innocent ones. You don't deserve to be alive."
I ignored the physical pain, I pushed it somewhere away. I was enraged. I attacked the nightmare. He parried my punch and struck me acorss the nose. I fell back, rolling. He charged. My eyes had teared up from the heavy blow across my nose, and I could feel heavy blood flow out of my nostrils. He knocked me to the ground, and as it knocked my breath out I saw the crimsom mist fly from my mouth. I managed to grab a piece of rubble laying on the ground and smashed the nightmare on the side of his head.
"Kolya! Kolya!"
I recognised the voice. I blinked, there were lights shining in my eyes. "Lyosha? Lyosha, is that you?" I asked. I looked to my left and saw Sasha standing up holding the side of his head. Something had hit him hard, something like the heel of my palm.
"It's OK, stay calm!" Lyosha said. I felt him put his hand on my shoulder.
I was sitting on the floor, leaning against my bed. My head hurt, my eye was swelling shut, my nose was throbbing, and I felt the taste of blood on my lips and in my mouth. I looked down and my shirt was blood-soaked.
"Talk about a nightmare," Lyosha said.
I think we might share rooms now, and sleep in shifts.
No apology necessary, Ron. Anything I can do, let me know.Ron Caliburn wrote:I wish you folks could trust me though. I’ve obviously let you all down. The other me knows everything about you that I do and is coming for you.
С волками жить, по-волчьи выть.
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Ron... I'm gonna fuckin' tear that thing to pieces. Chunk by goddamned chunk.
It's right now a little after 1AM... I just had a rather rude visitor. Care to guess who it was?
Yep! I guess if you catch anyone off-guard, it doesn't matter how good their dream defenses are; those defenses can still be breached. I haven't been dreaming all that much, lately... What dreams I've woken up out of have been rather...well...boring. Not much going on. I guess I don't have much to dream about, or something...
Well, I got jerked out of one of these uneventful dreams...
Eyes above the lake... Tentacles reaching out to grab us, all of us. Demonic laughter ringing in my ears, as the spirit of a helpless girl is dragged beneath the surface of the water...
As I turn to run, I find myself face to face with a vampire, his cold claws around my throat, grinning at me hungrily... I go to stab him with the stake I had hidden--only to find it isn't there... I focus all my energy, and jerk away--
--and find myself in the hospital... My wife is there, giving birth. Her breathing is labored, and the doctor is demanding she push more than breathe... I keep trying to coax her to take the next breath, and it always seems like the next breath isn't coming, and there's not a damned thing I can do about it...
I blink...and I'm back in the hotel room with Ron. I see the ghouls hunched over the body of the mutilated pregnant woman... I see the ring on her finger, a slightly smaller version of the one I wear on my left hand...
And as I start to lose all control, I hear Ron behind me, laughing... "Couldn't stop her from being killed, huh? Some hero you are..."
...click.
I turn towards him slowly, as it dawns on me that this isn't Ron, and that this is a dream... I smirk. "Clever... Very fucking clever."
He frowned at my reaction, suddenly accutely aware that things weren't going as he'd planned, and things wouldn't be going as he'd intended. He pulled out a gun, and tried shooting me...
...but this was my dream, and I wasn't going to let it happen.
I started feeling cocky as the bullets whizzed harmlessly around me. "Since you're here, I think I'll show you something... A part of my subconscious I keep bottled up when I'm awake..." A crate appeared in the corner of the room. Something was pounding, screaming, and clawing from within, and he took an involuntary step back, scowling... "Let me introduce you to my inner rage..."
A creature burst from the box... Humanoid, wearing my face, covered in black fur and thorns, with long, cruelly serrated claws... It leapt at the false Ron, and I laughed. "Welcome to *my* nightmare, asshole..."
My inner rage lunged at him...only he vanished.
"Your nightmare has not yet begun, heathen... If you love your 'innocents' so much, you will either convert...or die for them."
And then he was gone... The last image in my head was of a UPS truck.
So three guesses what's probably happening next in this saga.
I'm gonna try and get some more sleep, and try not to think about how much I'd love to decorate downtown McHenry with pieces of Fake Ron...
It's right now a little after 1AM... I just had a rather rude visitor. Care to guess who it was?
Yep! I guess if you catch anyone off-guard, it doesn't matter how good their dream defenses are; those defenses can still be breached. I haven't been dreaming all that much, lately... What dreams I've woken up out of have been rather...well...boring. Not much going on. I guess I don't have much to dream about, or something...
Well, I got jerked out of one of these uneventful dreams...
Eyes above the lake... Tentacles reaching out to grab us, all of us. Demonic laughter ringing in my ears, as the spirit of a helpless girl is dragged beneath the surface of the water...
As I turn to run, I find myself face to face with a vampire, his cold claws around my throat, grinning at me hungrily... I go to stab him with the stake I had hidden--only to find it isn't there... I focus all my energy, and jerk away--
--and find myself in the hospital... My wife is there, giving birth. Her breathing is labored, and the doctor is demanding she push more than breathe... I keep trying to coax her to take the next breath, and it always seems like the next breath isn't coming, and there's not a damned thing I can do about it...
I blink...and I'm back in the hotel room with Ron. I see the ghouls hunched over the body of the mutilated pregnant woman... I see the ring on her finger, a slightly smaller version of the one I wear on my left hand...
And as I start to lose all control, I hear Ron behind me, laughing... "Couldn't stop her from being killed, huh? Some hero you are..."
...click.
I turn towards him slowly, as it dawns on me that this isn't Ron, and that this is a dream... I smirk. "Clever... Very fucking clever."
He frowned at my reaction, suddenly accutely aware that things weren't going as he'd planned, and things wouldn't be going as he'd intended. He pulled out a gun, and tried shooting me...
...but this was my dream, and I wasn't going to let it happen.
I started feeling cocky as the bullets whizzed harmlessly around me. "Since you're here, I think I'll show you something... A part of my subconscious I keep bottled up when I'm awake..." A crate appeared in the corner of the room. Something was pounding, screaming, and clawing from within, and he took an involuntary step back, scowling... "Let me introduce you to my inner rage..."
A creature burst from the box... Humanoid, wearing my face, covered in black fur and thorns, with long, cruelly serrated claws... It leapt at the false Ron, and I laughed. "Welcome to *my* nightmare, asshole..."
My inner rage lunged at him...only he vanished.
"Your nightmare has not yet begun, heathen... If you love your 'innocents' so much, you will either convert...or die for them."
And then he was gone... The last image in my head was of a UPS truck.
So three guesses what's probably happening next in this saga.
I'm gonna try and get some more sleep, and try not to think about how much I'd love to decorate downtown McHenry with pieces of Fake Ron...
I am not A bitch...I am THE bitch. And to you, I'm MS Bitch.
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There was actually a lot more that I left out... I think he was trying to keep me disoriented. It almost worked, but as soon as he openned his mouth, that was all she wrote...
Well, unless he's responsible for the broken manifold in my truck today, I avoided him. They changed my route at the last second, so I wasn't where I thought I was gonna be. I amused myself today with the thought of him chasing down a UPS truck, confused as all hell as to why I wasn't the one driving it... The downside from today is that I was breathing exhaust fumes all day, and between that and the severe sleep dep I ended up with last night, I'm exhausted.
Before anyone jumps to the conclusion that it was him that did that to me, lemme just say that most drivers will let their trucks fall apart underneath them before they write them up as needing repairs, so I'd say it's more likely that it *wasn't* him than it was...
Everyone I know who I've met has seen this thread, except possibly for Celeste...and that'd be pretty damned funny. Being a nightmare, I don't think he has a physiology, so she couldn't feed on him, and I'm certain with her being a vampire, he'll want to go after her... Bloodbane might be at risk, I'll drop him a line, but I have few doubts that they both could handle themselves against this guy...
Kiddo was up every hour after I originally woke up. I was afraid that it might be Fake Ron, but Cubrious (our house dragon) said that he could read my dreams, and if he'd sensed I was in trouble, he'd've woken me up...and the only reason my son kept waking up was that he was frustrated by the sudden drop in attention he was getting, now that my wife is back to work...
We shall see what tonight and tomorrow bring...
Well, unless he's responsible for the broken manifold in my truck today, I avoided him. They changed my route at the last second, so I wasn't where I thought I was gonna be. I amused myself today with the thought of him chasing down a UPS truck, confused as all hell as to why I wasn't the one driving it... The downside from today is that I was breathing exhaust fumes all day, and between that and the severe sleep dep I ended up with last night, I'm exhausted.
Before anyone jumps to the conclusion that it was him that did that to me, lemme just say that most drivers will let their trucks fall apart underneath them before they write them up as needing repairs, so I'd say it's more likely that it *wasn't* him than it was...
Everyone I know who I've met has seen this thread, except possibly for Celeste...and that'd be pretty damned funny. Being a nightmare, I don't think he has a physiology, so she couldn't feed on him, and I'm certain with her being a vampire, he'll want to go after her... Bloodbane might be at risk, I'll drop him a line, but I have few doubts that they both could handle themselves against this guy...
Kiddo was up every hour after I originally woke up. I was afraid that it might be Fake Ron, but Cubrious (our house dragon) said that he could read my dreams, and if he'd sensed I was in trouble, he'd've woken me up...and the only reason my son kept waking up was that he was frustrated by the sudden drop in attention he was getting, now that my wife is back to work...
We shall see what tonight and tomorrow bring...
I am not A bitch...I am THE bitch. And to you, I'm MS Bitch.