Yeah, so, I don't remember dreaming this. . .
Clearing out old emails, I found this freaky, creepy, awesome dream I described to a friend, dated June 08, 2007, and I want to preserve it here for posterity:
I knew the end of the world was coming because I'd lived through it before. Sometimes one gets born like that, that no matter how many times they reap your memories away, you still remember it all. Usually they catch you after the first awakening, don't bother with remaking you, but they hadn't caught me yet.
I had been found by the runner dogs and nearly killed; I escaped because I remembered how to make weapons, and use them, and I killed several.
I made it off my world and to a new one, where I tried to spread word of what was coming. I was taken in by a very kind suburban family on a civilized world. I knew the Outer Lords meant to destroy this planet eventually, as it had recently acquired a rogue star, a wandering light that kept watch over us day and night. I knew what it really was, and why it was so sinister.
My new companions did not believe the evil that the Outer Lords represented until they saw the last of the news tapes smuggled from the last planet. Reprocessing labs to reprogram those who they wanted to keep, and bio-labs to use the parts of those they didn't. The worst were the factories that turned carcasses into food for the meat-eating robot runner dogs.
Naturally, the airing of these tapes doomed this world.
It came as a wall of stone and dust that followed a colossal explosion. They had destroyed a nearby major city and the shockwall towered over us, miles high; it was debris but it looked solid. I knew what it was called, the Hammer, and it was what was left of one great city destroyed by their orbital railgun that fired giant ferrous asteroids. Our town'd be wiped out as an afterthought, caught in the halo of destruction.
Because I'd been through this once before, I directed everyone to take shelter in the storm shelter, but not everyone would come or believe me. I had my weapons though, and my wife whom I loved very much came with me.
The cracks and booms as it came near were like the bones of the earth breaking. We were terrified. We cowered underground, and the last blow was like a hammerfall. It should have killed us. Instead, we dug out, we were alive. The runner dogs were out already, looting the remains. We fled through the frozen winter destruction. If we could reach the edge of the ring of destruction, we might live. So we ran. I had a hatchet, a small sword, and two knives.
Twice I fought off the dogs, which weren't dogs, really, but more like . . . robot dog-people. Once we hid from a group of men. And then the rogue star began flashing.
We had a reaping star; the rogue star that had appeared in the sky. Now it showed its true purpose. Light shot from it like a white spotlight beam, it searched, flicking back and forth across the landscape. And what it found, it blasted. Not to death, but to elimination of memory. It struck a person and just . . . wiped them blank.
Dodging bullets from unmanned aerial assault vehicles, we fled for the woods. There, the star couldn't see us under cover, and the flying machines couldn't find us. We didn't make it; she was shot down in a burst of blood, red on white snow, she was dying. I could not carry her, I could not help her, I had to keep running. I had to leave her.
Three times I avoided the reaching beam of the star, but the fourth time it hit me. I remembered it from before, how it felt to be unmade. I was screaming her name.
I came back as one of the dogs. I was helping finish the conquest of the planet. Killing a family and its pets. I had nothing in me but the urge to kill, to feel flesh between my teeth. Someone escaped me. I chased. It was my wife.
Some people the lords reawakened, made them new in spirit but not body. Others they cloned and brought around in new bodies. Sometimes both. Sometimes they cloned the dead. You never knew which.
So when I saw her again, I didn't know which she was . . . but I remembered what I had been, even as I couldn't disobey the impulses that led me to attack her. I could only ask through broken jaws if she remembered. And then I leaped on her and killed her, without hearing her reply. . . .
. . .
The most disturbing thing to me is that I don't have any recollection of this dream. Absolutely none.
I'd say it should be some sort of short story or something, but I really, really don't want to spend more time on that world.
X-posted from Dreamwidth. Comment count:
I knew the end of the world was coming because I'd lived through it before. Sometimes one gets born like that, that no matter how many times they reap your memories away, you still remember it all. Usually they catch you after the first awakening, don't bother with remaking you, but they hadn't caught me yet.
I had been found by the runner dogs and nearly killed; I escaped because I remembered how to make weapons, and use them, and I killed several.
I made it off my world and to a new one, where I tried to spread word of what was coming. I was taken in by a very kind suburban family on a civilized world. I knew the Outer Lords meant to destroy this planet eventually, as it had recently acquired a rogue star, a wandering light that kept watch over us day and night. I knew what it really was, and why it was so sinister.
My new companions did not believe the evil that the Outer Lords represented until they saw the last of the news tapes smuggled from the last planet. Reprocessing labs to reprogram those who they wanted to keep, and bio-labs to use the parts of those they didn't. The worst were the factories that turned carcasses into food for the meat-eating robot runner dogs.
Naturally, the airing of these tapes doomed this world.
It came as a wall of stone and dust that followed a colossal explosion. They had destroyed a nearby major city and the shockwall towered over us, miles high; it was debris but it looked solid. I knew what it was called, the Hammer, and it was what was left of one great city destroyed by their orbital railgun that fired giant ferrous asteroids. Our town'd be wiped out as an afterthought, caught in the halo of destruction.
Because I'd been through this once before, I directed everyone to take shelter in the storm shelter, but not everyone would come or believe me. I had my weapons though, and my wife whom I loved very much came with me.
The cracks and booms as it came near were like the bones of the earth breaking. We were terrified. We cowered underground, and the last blow was like a hammerfall. It should have killed us. Instead, we dug out, we were alive. The runner dogs were out already, looting the remains. We fled through the frozen winter destruction. If we could reach the edge of the ring of destruction, we might live. So we ran. I had a hatchet, a small sword, and two knives.
Twice I fought off the dogs, which weren't dogs, really, but more like . . . robot dog-people. Once we hid from a group of men. And then the rogue star began flashing.
We had a reaping star; the rogue star that had appeared in the sky. Now it showed its true purpose. Light shot from it like a white spotlight beam, it searched, flicking back and forth across the landscape. And what it found, it blasted. Not to death, but to elimination of memory. It struck a person and just . . . wiped them blank.
Dodging bullets from unmanned aerial assault vehicles, we fled for the woods. There, the star couldn't see us under cover, and the flying machines couldn't find us. We didn't make it; she was shot down in a burst of blood, red on white snow, she was dying. I could not carry her, I could not help her, I had to keep running. I had to leave her.
Three times I avoided the reaching beam of the star, but the fourth time it hit me. I remembered it from before, how it felt to be unmade. I was screaming her name.
I came back as one of the dogs. I was helping finish the conquest of the planet. Killing a family and its pets. I had nothing in me but the urge to kill, to feel flesh between my teeth. Someone escaped me. I chased. It was my wife.
Some people the lords reawakened, made them new in spirit but not body. Others they cloned and brought around in new bodies. Sometimes both. Sometimes they cloned the dead. You never knew which.
So when I saw her again, I didn't know which she was . . . but I remembered what I had been, even as I couldn't disobey the impulses that led me to attack her. I could only ask through broken jaws if she remembered. And then I leaped on her and killed her, without hearing her reply. . . .
. . .
The most disturbing thing to me is that I don't have any recollection of this dream. Absolutely none.
I'd say it should be some sort of short story or something, but I really, really don't want to spend more time on that world.
X-posted from Dreamwidth. Comment count: