(no subject)
I had a strange, but rather cool dream last night. There were doors in the ground, just like old cellar doors, that were painted a sort of maroon color and were always somewhere out of the way and a bit dilapidated. Nobody noticed them usually, but if you had a key (and for a while I had a sonic screwdriver, the ultimate key), you could use them to travel between worlds.
You would find yourself in a stairwell, that, if you could see, would appear to go up and down forever, with flight upon flight, each one with an unmarked door, normal-looking, but through which you could go to a parallel universe, emerging through another dilapidated, maroon-painted cellar door. You could go up, or down.
If you went up, things were mostly the same, maybe a little bit better. If you went down, things were also the same, but mostly not as good. However, for some reason I kept going down, and they became even worse, and soon there was something else: something that saw us using the doors, that could use them itself, and was eager for fresh worlds to invade. It began infesting the worlds behind us like a cancer, sending people and things after us that the only way to be safe from was to never see. We kept ahead of them, trying to find somewhere that was safe.
At first, it wasn't a very big deal; we passed a group of people in the stairwell that were taking shelter there, but didn't think much of it. By the end, though, we had someone following us just a single world behind, when we were going so fast we didn't even enter the stairwell, just went straight to the next world in an attempt to throw them off. Then something broke in the system, or was broken, and when we went to the next world something was wrong; there was an unhealthy, shimmering membrane over everything, through which we could still faintly see the features of the world we left behind. We didn't know what it meant, but we knew it wasn't good.
It faded, after a while, but we knew we couldn't go any further, so we ran, but whatever that malevolent force was, it had already arrived, or maybe it was just the way the place was, so we found ourselves cornered in a hotel, waiting for the militia to capture us.
You would find yourself in a stairwell, that, if you could see, would appear to go up and down forever, with flight upon flight, each one with an unmarked door, normal-looking, but through which you could go to a parallel universe, emerging through another dilapidated, maroon-painted cellar door. You could go up, or down.
If you went up, things were mostly the same, maybe a little bit better. If you went down, things were also the same, but mostly not as good. However, for some reason I kept going down, and they became even worse, and soon there was something else: something that saw us using the doors, that could use them itself, and was eager for fresh worlds to invade. It began infesting the worlds behind us like a cancer, sending people and things after us that the only way to be safe from was to never see. We kept ahead of them, trying to find somewhere that was safe.
At first, it wasn't a very big deal; we passed a group of people in the stairwell that were taking shelter there, but didn't think much of it. By the end, though, we had someone following us just a single world behind, when we were going so fast we didn't even enter the stairwell, just went straight to the next world in an attempt to throw them off. Then something broke in the system, or was broken, and when we went to the next world something was wrong; there was an unhealthy, shimmering membrane over everything, through which we could still faintly see the features of the world we left behind. We didn't know what it meant, but we knew it wasn't good.
It faded, after a while, but we knew we couldn't go any further, so we ran, but whatever that malevolent force was, it had already arrived, or maybe it was just the way the place was, so we found ourselves cornered in a hotel, waiting for the militia to capture us.