Living with a dragon.

Once upon a time a woman lived in a castle. This woman was neither extremely beautiful nor was she hideous and grotesque. She was just average. She had black hair but it wasn't so dark that it shone. She was slightly over weight, but as far a medieval society is concerned I suppose she was thin. She was not curvacious and nothing about her screamed supple. Yet, that did not matter because she lived in a castle and it was guarded by a dragon. She knew no knights would come. No one wanted to save a non-princess that was only average in appearance.
So, she spent her days cleaning up after the dragon and tending her small garden. Sometimes when she was feeling adventurous she would escape and see how long it took the dragon to capture her. She knew that it was useless he always captured her, but it was fun none the less since he never hurt her in any way.
It was hard work though, living with a dragon that is. He always left his food lying around. Never cleaned or tidied. His hordes of riches were always dusty. So, she had her work cut out for her.
Well one day while cleaning his riches the dragon was snoring quite loudly. She went to roll him over in order to stop the snoring but mid-turn she slipped and fell. The dragon fell back into place right on top of her head crushing it.
And that is why you must always ensure you wear slip resistance tennis shoes. 'Cause you never know.

The Holy One

I had a third dream that takes my breath away even now.
On a bridge I walked.
It seemed like it was endless as I could not see either end.
Looking down to the depths below a glowing redness was obscured by a terrible mist.
On this path that I knew not the beginning nor the end I saw that I was not alone.
There were other souls walking ahead without notice of one another.
Their eyes were glossed over as if under a spell.
I then looked up above me to see the clearest sky.
It shone with the brilliance of dawn but it was perpetual and touched each corner of the sky.
The bridges construction was unknown to me.
It appeared to be made of a metal that consisted of a luminescent gray.
There were no supports in sight.
It had no rails, and was about as wide as a river.
There were curves in it.
It wound through the sky like a snake.
Seeing its side I saw that it was no more than a hand's width thick.
It had to be supported at the ends, I concluded.
I continued to walk hoping to reach the end and seek out answers concerning this marvel.
I then heard the first scream as my thoughts turned outward.
All around me the sleep walkers awoke.
And as they awoke they were suddenly jerked off the bridge down to the depths below.
A smoke began to fill the air as more and more souls were torn into its depths.
I finally took notice after what seemed hours that I was totally alone.
The bridge was empty.
And so I walked.
I know not how long I walked.
It seemed an eternity.
Finally I glimpsed it.
The end of the bridge.
I was overpowered by fatigue and had to sit.
As I sat a man appeared at my side.
His face was kindly but inhuman.
Not that it was grotesque but in fact it was too pristine.
Then his voice reached my ears no more than a whisper yet melodic like the sweetest sound.
"Why have you arrived alone?" he asked me, his eyes were now quite sad.
"I gave you all the tools you needed to bring the whole world here. You are unworthy of your station."
I then fell to my face kissing his feet, but he was no longer there.
In fact I was the one moved.
Standing up I felt the pain of a thousand needles.
The air itself was like razors that cut me with every breath.
There was seemly no temperature yet I found that too be the most uncomfortable aspect of it.
Soon I felt despaired and realized I was in the red place.
I was below the bridge.
I had failed the journey.
A hunger began to grow in my stomach and I decided to search out food.
I noticed a forest not far away and began to walk towards it.
The whisper then reached me even here, "What of your hunger? Your thirst? Why do you who ignored the needs of others deserve to feast and drink?"
The forest was then replaced with an endless red desert.
I then noticed a rising sun and a heat began to come over me greater than I had ever known before.
My eyes caught sight of some crags that would offer shade.
Walking towards them his voice returned yet again, "Comforts and pleasures were offered to you a plenty. Yet, you never offered them to others you never spread the words."
The crags were gone and I was left alone.
The desert spread in every direction and the heat stifled the processes of my mind.
Finally in a stupefied exhaustion I yelled to the winds, "What are the words I should spread?"
When I awoke my bed was drenched in sweat and stained red with a sand like material.
In my hand I held a scroll.
I cracked it open to see on it were written words of great power and guidance.

The Great War

I had another dream. But I know not from whence it came.
I was in the Great War fighting along side my brothers.
I was not a child but a man. Full grown and battle weary.
Our base was set up in a little village that had greeted us with open arms.
They sang our praises and called us their saviors from the enemy.
As I walked through soot stained streets where blood and ash mixed in the muddy waters.
I saw the dead stacked up in burning mounds that stank and stung the eyes.
At the end of the avenue I came to our palace.
We had taken the enemy's lair as our base of operations.
But as I got closer I began to notice a sound.
Not just a sound but many noises accosted my ears.
I soon realized they were screams and wails as if from a great agony.
They were the voices of women.
Opening the doors into the great hall the floors were writhing with bodies.
Soldiers beat and raped women all around.
The women's howls nearly deafening me.
At knife and gun point the men held them.
Thrusting with reckless abandon.
I was now just a boy again.
Standing powerless as the men ripped into their victims.
I tried to pry one of them apart pleading for him to stop.
Their flesh however was united.
Fused as if they were of one body.
I soon realized all of them were connected.
They were a single mass of melted flesh that thrashed all around me.
Then suddenly it stopped moving.
The screams stopped and the women stood.
Their stomachs beginning to bulge out.
Their breasts became plump and bloated with milk.
In a unanimous motion the males gutted the swollen wombs.
Reaching crooked claws inside they drew out the young and dashed them to the floor.
My breath caught and I fell to my knees.
The floor was now crimson as the bodies of the women fell into pools of their own blood.
I cried and closed my eyes.
What did this mean?
"Where has honor gone?" came a tiny thin voice to my sore ears.
My eyes opened to find a small child holding one of the women's hands.
It was pale like new snow in his trembling fingers.
I went for the boy to hold him and he turned to dust in my arms.
I awoke again this time covered in ash.
My blankets had burnt away without leaving a mark on myself.

The Last Knight

 ***Words from the Author***
I do not know why I wrote the following passage. It is not based on a dream, but it came from a strange sort of spontaneous inspiration. I hope you enjoy. Before you is the Last Knight.
***End Words from the Author***


I dreamed I rode an old winding road that would take me from one place to another.
It was at a crooked and sickly elm hanging over the path where my eyes were caught.
Under the elm slept a man. Or at least it had been assumed that it was a man asleep.
Under layers of rusted armor set with empty sockets that once held jewels.
Out of the closed visor sprang tufts from an old gnarled white beard.
His chest no longer drew breath that is to say he did not move as I passed.
The only movement was the waving of his rotted tabbard in the wind.
I think it once held markings that told of his once noble station.
I stopped in front of his feet, and dropped down from my saddle.
Holding my reins in a hand, my other prodded his side with my rifle.
He did not move, but there was a whistle as the gasses of death escaped and filled the air.
Flies flew to the winds and maggots crept out of hiding.
I wretched to tell the truth. Never had I seen one who was dead and left to rot.
His shield was strapped across his back and it helped to hold him erect.
His sword lay at his side fallen from his grasp.
I wondered if he had tried to hold off death with his now lost blade.
Looking through his visor I saw black sockets swimming with grubs and worse.
As I began to stand and pull away from the carcass it sprang to life.
His sword hand grabbed at me.
My collar was caught and I was drawn to his plated helm his visor pressed against my cheek.
I felt hot wet blood drip from the wound the point inflicted on my soft skin.
His other hand pulled free the visor and revealed his cracked and rotten flesh.
Gnarled brittle lips curled and broke in defiance as he began to speak.
"Where has nobility gone?" he asked in a horse whisper through brown and crooked teeth.
I awoke at this time to find myself in a panicked sweat.
My lungs grasping for air.
I felt my face and found it was wet.
Crimson stuck to my fingers, but there was no wound to be found.

To Forgive Providence

Part 3 - The Finale

A ringing throbbed in Thomas Ashton's ears. His eyes could see nothing but darkness. He knew not if it was blindness or if all light had left the room. Crawling toward the device he could hardly breath with anticipation. He felt a warm mass. It must be the boy. It had short swift breaths. And its skin was moist to the touch.

“Daniel, Daniel Smith is that you?” was all Thomas could whisper through clinched teeth. His every fiber was telling him to flee. What he was touching could not be human. It was spongy and damp like what the boy was before Daniel gave it his blood.

The form jerked away and was gone from Thomas' touch. He simply heard the sound of draining fluids and the soft thump of human bodies falling to the ground. The darkness was now forcing itself on him. Crushing the air from his lungs. His whole body clinched. He was prepared to die. He was always willing to die for Daniel's theories, but the terror that gripped him now could not be ignored. Every fiber screamed at him now, 'Run, Flee,' but he couldn't he was paralyzed.

A could snout pressed against Thomas' ear. A warm breath panted an unearthly watery stench. “Tell me Mr. Ashton, tell me is this what you had in mind all along.” it breathed the words in a slow watery way.

Thomas couldn't talk words would not come. His muscles began to spasm as they grew fatigued. He couldn't release he was clenched ready for death. His bowels evacuated into his pants.

“You fool boy. I have come to educate you. One cannot fathom the depths of the abyss. One cannot tamper with such things and not be punished. In fact I have been personally torturing your dear Doctor Smith for years now. That mind in the jar is nothing more than living tissue very much devoid of a soul. I pray we meet up in the abyss. We have so much more to discuss.” at that Thomas felt a sharp pain in his neck. A moment later his eyes closed forever just as they glimpsed his torso falling to the ground several feet away.

At dawn a traveling salesman came to the house in the cleft looking to sell his wares. He found a small blond curly haired boy sitting on the stoop shivering.

“Boy why are you out in the cold. What is that all over you? My... my gods what has happened?” The boy was covered in blood from next to toe. Not a drop of it having touched his pristine blond hair. As the salesman stepped forward to help, the boy raised a distorted hand and pulled off the skin of the now very much dead Samuel Smith and proceeded to dissect the salesman. The creature used long talon like fingers raking away slivers of skin like sheers to lamb's wool. A cracking laughter thundered through the valley. The creature was going to have fun in this world.

And still to this day people whisper about the evil that awaits men who travel to the cleft, cause you never know if the creature from the abyss is going to be waiting there for you wearing the perfect blond hair of a young boy no older than twelve.

To Forgive Providence

Part 2

“Oh, please sir tell me about my father. Janet reveals so little information and I would like to know more. Especially of his research.”

“If information is what you desire perhaps this desire will be fulfilled. However certain paths lead to nothing more than pain and death. Your father learned this in his research. You know he killed himself, correct?' Thomas stood grinning at the boy his slick black hair parted down the middle.

A brief grimace spread across the boys face. “Yes sir, I know this. It is why no one dares speak of him. Everyone knows that those who take their own lives become restless spirits that will haunt those who speak of them.”

“Ah, yes the sad superstitions of the hill people. Your father's spirit is not in this realm of that I am certain. But still your father's research I suppose is like the restless spirit you spoke of. It will haunt any who know of it. I fact it has been my burden all these years to wait for the opportune time to tell you of your father's research.” A rustle comes from the back of the house and a short scream dies on the quiet night.

“Why did you have to wait sir? I have been old enough to understand the basics of it for some time. What little I could draw forth from Janet.” As the boy finished his words a tall wall of a man walked out from Janet's room. His hands dripped a dark fluid onto the floor which quickly devoured it into its many pores.

“Yes, my associate. Samuel meet John Cleveland. He has little on the intellectual side, but he makes up for it with unearthly strength.” With a nod towards John, the boy turns around to have a bag thrown over his head. Darkness is all that he sees for several hours. As the hours pass he hears many a thing moving around inside the old cottage. With a flick of a wrist suddenly the bag is removed. The light nearly blinds young Samuel. As they adjust the smiling face of Thomas Ashton stares at him.

“My boy. We will make history this day. This night will mark the birth of a new era. Soon we few will control the destiny of mankind. Boy, can you imagine? No longer praying away the wrath of otherworldly beings? They will pray that we avert our wrath from their inhuman heads!” his excitement was like a fire. His eyes only ever stopped moving to stare at the boy. His lithe form shook with anticipation.

“What are you doing? Untie me. Please. I don't own much but what ever I have...” it was at this point the boy notice the still body of Janet Smith laying on the floor. A pool of red fluid spread around her form. Several other men where now inside the room. They were moving many objects around making a sort of pattern around the boy. The objects burned with blue light that shook violently inside glass orbs. It flashed around inside the balls like lightning.

“What am I doing? I am teaching you. Your fathers research. Your father killed himself so he could kill the gods. Once our worlds connect they will have no power over us. He has already brought small parts into this world. And one of those small parts was you boy. You are an otherworldly being. Yet you were dying. We didn't understand why, until your father bleed his life blood into you. It seemed to transform you. From an otherworldly being into a human. Your father became obsessed. So he created a device that would allow the conscious mind to transcend death itself. Using you as the conduit we will bring your father back and welcome in the era of gods who are men.” he paced all the while suddenly stopping and taking a deep breath. “My goodness listen to me ramble I get so excited. Needless to say you will cease to exist, but if our theories are correct your powers will be unlocked and your father's mind will replace your own.”

The boy shook with fear. Replacing the gods? His father not being his father? None of it made sense, but he could do little as the apertures was assembled around him. At its center above the boys head a jar was placed from that jar ran several wires. In the jar the boy saw something he did not understand, but it was in fact his father's brain in a mysterious liquid.

“Start it! Start it now men! We are changing the tides of reality itself!” Thomas yelled against the buzzing of the machines.

As soon as the words were spoken the blue lights began to flare leaving their glass orbs and dancing from device to device. Spinning around the boy. With increasing power. Soon all grew blind in the room as the energy reached a critical level. Shadows began to dance around the apparatus. Creatures tore at the wall of energy. Unearthly cries spread through electric filled air. And then there was dark.

To Be Continued...

To Forgive Providence

On the whispered twilight of a new night. The crisp summer air is moist with the dew that falls from a half lit sky. Orange cream spreads in the west as a burning sphere descends from view. Twin mountains stand with the sun betwixt their breasted crests. A small lad walks the cobbled path home. His shoes tied together and slung over a shoulder. His gait is jovial as would be expected by any observer. For the boys grin spread across a freckled face that shone from a brilliant inner light.

The cottage sat in the cleft of the two mountains it was dark but for a single candle that flickered angrily. The boy stopped as he grew near the place. Dropping his shoes from his shoulders he bent down to put them on. His golden curly locks covered his face, but a definite shadow appeared as a voice rose from the cottage.

"Boy, boy? Where are you boy? I have waited for hours where are you?" said a hateful creaky voice.

"I am here. No doubt you have waited. I was caught up in a game of leap frog that lasted hours beyond my expectations." called the boy who began to trot back to the house.

The boy passed the remaining distance and opened the door. The candle's orange light dimly fell from the open door as the boy passed inside. Yet, as the door closed the candle died or was slain. Night was out in full strength at this time. The only light was that of several tiny stars that gazed down on earth from their perches high in the heavens. This night several stars would look away. For happenings of great evil would fill the void left by the sun's descent.

A cleft between two mountains is not always the best place to build a home. Some say that such places are evil. Some say such places are blessed. I know not which, but evil came to the cleft when there was a sudden knock on the cottage's door.

A candle was lit and a door was cracked. A blond haired boy sheepishly looks out a door where a tall slight man stood hat in hand.

"Greeting's my good lad. Is your guardian about? If I remember correctly it is a bitter old hag by the name of Janet Smith. And you my boy go by Samuel Smith?" he words were said with a glad tone.

"Yes, sir I am Samuel Smith. And Janet is home, shall I rouse her for you?"

Pushing his way past the lad the man entered. Standing perfectly erect he spun a circle taking in the whole of the entry, which acted as kitchen, dining room, Sam's room, and lounge.

"I am so rude," bowing down almost doubling himself over the man bent his head to the boy. "I am Thomas, Thomas Ashton. I was a good friend of your fathers in fact I helped him greatly in his studies."

A glow of excitement crossed the boys face. He had not met a man who had known his father or even known of his father's studies in quite some time. This was certainly a fortuitous situation in the boys mind. Alas the evil that had enter his innocent life would change those feelings all too soon.

To Be Continued...