Her family exiled her.
Her friends betrayed her.
The ocean embraced her.
She glides through the frigid water with ease, all shark-smile mouth and long, pale limbs that seem to shift as they sway, maybe arms and legs one moment, maybe tentacles the next, maybe both. The waves whisper to her as they break against the moonlit shore and she replies with a bubbling giggle and a fluid gesture toward land. All around her sinuous body she feels the water respond, heaving and fluctuating as the waves gain momentum until their roaring breakers bury the beach and smash against the road beyond.
She surfaces, looks for her next target. Grins.
She is small and yet her tentacled limbs seem endless as they snake through the water and wrap themselves around the weathered tower. Fluid muscles tense and tug; old brick groans and cracks beneath the force. Then with a thunderous grinding the entire structure splinters and collapses, falling outwards into the water in a shower of stone and dust. She gleefully rides the resulting tidal wave as it overtakes the beach, then the road, and smashes into the little town beyond. She then rides the wave as it sucks back out to sea, weaving between thrashing bodies and tumbling debris.
in my dreaming
in my waking
every day every night seeking hunting l o n g i n g
anything the thing
that will cease this awful impulse
make me whole, let me rest
but I just keep
I dreamed the kind of dream that makes you wish you could draw or were otherwise skilled in a visual art, because there’s no way words can adequately describe it. The dream took place in a militaristic, space-based empire of genetically advanced humans. In this empire, warriors and knights each had their own personal weapon which could be summoned at will (much like the gems in Steven Universe). The weapons were formed with a sort of black energy, which lent them additional versatility and destructive power. Warriors in higher military commands were also linked with their own starships (which looked like Ryo-Ohki from Tenchi Muyo). These ships existed primarily in an alternate but parallel dimension, but could be summoned into the main dimension when needed for battle; in fact, their ability to exist partially in both dimensions simultaneously made them ideal for large battles becauses they could fire on an enemy yet not be directly hit. (Imagine massive starships that can literally ghost through solid objects, such as buildings, to fire on the inhabitants.) Often the ships and weapons were used in honorable battle between knights, but also frequently for full warfare between the empire and dissidents. In addition, the most powerful warriors could also form an energy shield/aura called an ‘aspect storm’ (my brain borrowed the term from The Cold Commands by Richard Morgan) which, if the warrior was particularly skilled, could be controlled like a giant monster to do widespread damage.
In this dream, Tanim was the emperor’s son and being groomed to take his father’s place in the future. He was an admirable warrior with his own ship, and his personal weapon was a black lance that could be turned into a powerful longbow when battling aspect storms. At one point in the dream he stopped by a training session in which some of the best warriors were teamed up against a single man dressed all in black – I recognized him as Daren, though in the dream all Tanim knew was that the stranger was new to his father’s service. Despite being surrounded and outnumbered, Daren easily held command of the fight. His weapon, thin double blades that allowed him superb speed and range of motion, was somehow set to instantaneously cauterize any wound it created. In this way, Daren was able to deal legitimate injuries but the risk of killing someone in one blow was small. Still, he severed several fingers and at least one arm, and maimed others in ways that would permanently remove them from the emperor’s service. Tanim was certainly impressed (okay, and probably pretty turned on), and I think they ended up fighting together against a gigantic aspect storm later on. At any rate, there were lots of explosions and space battles and stuff, and it was awesome.
I would rip you open, he murmurs, teeth testing the taut flesh of your neck, tongue gliding over the pulsing heartbeat beneath, and you only smile with half-lidded eyes. You hope he will; you hope you feel those teeth sink deep into your throat and that sardonic mouth swallow your screams. Please do, your body begs. Just wait, his promises.
Oh arrogant angel with your disdainful eyes, your contemptuous lips,
you wear apathy like Armani on your slim hips, your fine wrists,
rich in the security of your superiority.
Your cruelty’s a tease, oh fickle moon with that sickle smile,
long limbs lax but your sharp tongue’s fast
and you go for the kill every time.
The abandoned hospital hunched amid deep shadows and bright floodlights, the latter placed there to dissuade interlopers from trespassing on the construction zone at night. Despite the lights, the chainlink fence was cut in a dozen places and fresh graffiti scrawled over both the building and the waiting construction equipment. As if sensing tonight’s intended activity, however, the usual rebellious teens seemed to be giving the site a wide berth. Only one figure moved between light and darkness, their shadow tall and straight as the floodlights threw it up against the hospital walls. Tanim, standing beyond the touch of the lights, watched this shadow for several long moments before ducking through a hole in the fence. Gravel crunched beneath his feet as he approached, the sound absurdly loud in the still night. He paused at the black mouth of an underground garage to let his eyes adjust before descending the ramp.
“If you plan on stopping me, I suggest getting out of my way,” Tanim’s eyes just barely picked Daren out in the darkness, a stray shaft of light glinting off the small blade in the man’s hand. The voice itself was warning enough – the knife merely made good on the threat. Swallowing, Tanim held up his hands and slowed his pace, leaving a good distance between them. “I don’t want to stop you,” he soothed, “I just want to know what you’re doing.” He nodded to the bag slung over Daren’s shoulder and the metal cylinder at his feet. The man had stowed two other such cylinders around the building in the time Tanim watched him; how many others he had already placed, Tanim could only guess.
“Too much evil has been done here,” Daren tapped the cylinder with one foot while his eyes pinned Tanim in place. With the same foot he then knocked the cylinder back, causing it to roll up against the support column behind him. He seemed to wait for some answer, perhaps a protest, but Tanim gave none, only nodded in understanding. Daren pocketed the knife, though Tanim knew it would be back in his hand in half a second if he felt threatened, and gestured into the bowels of the garage. “There’s one left.” He pulled the final explosive from his bag and set off into the darkness. Tanim followed at a wise distance.
I dreamed a happier ending for Hannibal and Will. They had survived the fall – or perhaps never fell at all, a phone call can change so much – and were living in the remote depths of a pristine national forest. Their home was an old-fashioned lodge with enough rugged simplicity for Will and a modern enough kitchen for Hannibal. No one found them – or perhaps some did, but never made it out again to spill their secrets – and so they lived in peace. Hannibal continued expanding his culinary repertoire; Will spent long hours hiking through the forest. Hannibal would call Will William, Will would tell Hannibal he hated when he did that, and Hannibal would smile and reply, “I know”. They were, dare I say, happy in their own way for a time. Then one day Will didn’t return when he was supposed to, so Hannibal set out to locate and chastise him. He found Will on a rocky ridge overlooking the timbered valley and their home on the opposite slope. He had not been dead long, yet long enough that Hannibal knew he had arrived too late. He suspected a heart attack, the irony of which did not escape him, but would confirm it for his own sake. Lifting Will and holding him in his arms like one would a sleeping child, Hannibal carried him back to their home.