manxomnivore: (devour)
[personal profile] manxomnivore
[ It is Tuesday. And tonight you will dream.

Perhaps you cannot usually dream. Perhaps you do not sleep. Then this will be strange. Because...

Tonight you will dream.

You dream of silence and white light, nothing but white light. You think it feels pleasant and warm, until three... two... one brief moments pass, and you understand that the light doesn't tingle your skin, it burns. It cuts the way fire cuts, deep and scorching, seeping through layer after layer, leaving neither speck nor spot unmarred.

You never thought your flesh could be rent asunder, you never thought your bones could burst apart.

The silence breaks with the sound of ancient trees falling to the ground, of ice cracking from a glacier's top, of screeching metal beams in abandoned places, of desperate echos in corners too remote to ever be found. The silence breaks with the sound of your pain.

And as your scream fades, so does the light.
]

er... omecnosu.... otraeneb... lli wsuotraederew ohw... sdnei... rflufhtiaf...........

[ Grey, at first. Dull. Neither light nor dark.

Until a small shadow passes in front of your vision.
]

wollasetaf.... ehtfinoos..... yademos......

[ Another shadow.

And another.

And another.

And another, another, another, ananother ANOTHER ANOTHER ANOTHER ANOTHER AN--

........other, until all is dark, until you think you look at the pitch black night sky, and watch tiny stars appear, bright and yellow, one after another.

You think that until all the stars blink, all at once. Until they stare right at you, thousands and thousands of tiny, yellow eyes.
]

r͉̗̬̫͖̐ͥͦͬͪͤͅê̡̫̜̲̬͖̣̗̒̕ḩ̸̟͙̐͒̄͂ͬ̏̊ ̸̐̿̽̃͒̚͜ͅt̶̰̠̣̘̔̃̈ͬ̾̍̃͑e̵̻̻͉̩̮͒̊̉͑̿̂͒ͥͪ ̱̰̝̯̻͓̰̍ͤ͆̀̽́̚gͫ͋̄͊҉̗̰̩̬̬̣͘ȏͫ̿̀͢҉̶̗͔̣̟͓̰͕ ̨͖̪͉̳̩͚̌͐͑̿̏̎ţ͗͑̂ͤͩ͏̸͇̻̟͎̖̯̭̥e̷̵̢͙̗̳̙̹͈͉̭ͬ̑̾͌͐b̸̨̲̱̦̱̰͈̞̈́ͯ͆̑ͤ̌͐ͤ.̶̗̼̪͙͋͑͠.̹̬̘̝̘̯̼̲ͨͯͥͦ͐̐.̛͓̜ͬ̅ͯͣ͒̄̒̓͘ ̸̨̛̳̱̻͕̤̄ͣl̳̮͋̊͆̓͛͜͜l̑ͥ͌͟͏̦̣̺̟̪͡ͅa̪̳͉͖ͨ̉̓̂͂̅̇̆͆͠ ̵̸̘̰̭͍̠̬̺̑͋͗̑ͨl̪̥̜͚͖̩ͧ̍̈́́́l̨͚͔̘͈̹͇͓̒͌ͯ̇ͯͪͥͤͨ͘ͅï͇̹̟̮̰̾ͫ̈́͘͝w̸̗̗͚̥̗͐ͮͮ̋ͩ͊͢ẻ̬̺̔̊̓͂̀̀̕w̹̟̹̉̑͘.̷̫̫̒͆͋.̜̬͎͓͎͉̾̓͒̽ͤ̋ͬ͢.̡̳̫̰̰̘̳̏̆̏͆͂̐͋ͨͫ͟.̡͛̒ͫ̒͂ͬͦͨ͊͏̬͎̹̗͚̮͕̫ͅ.

[ And there, at last, your dream begins to melt away... ]

w̘̭͈͉̏̍̑oh̃͛ͧ̽̍ͯ͢ḛ̦̠̮͉ͪͮm̩̹̤̈́͊̌̔ͮ̚o̭̥̻̯̭̗̺͗̅ͨͥͩs̡͕̖͓̃̓́̏h̸̺̼͚̰g̮̘͡u̅̊̋҉̥͓̪͕̹̯ò̜̦ͩr̩ͦͮͮͮͧ̓h͍͕̏̋̂͋ͯt̢̲͔̊.̴̻͈̬̰͍ͪ.̃ͤ̂̍̚҉̱̺̰̮̫.̟̠͍̙̳̫̥̾͜ ͕̗̼̙̤ͥ̌̔̽ͩ̐̎e͕̜̜̳͚̼̲͊͂ͧ͒̔l͇͙ͫ͆̒̉̊̐ͪd̳͆͒ͧ͆ͨ̽̀ ̗̼̜̯̲̈́͐͌̀d͖̪͖̣̫̮̠ͮ͌ͫ̈́u̴̙͙͆m̺̀͒ͧͫ̉ö͒͑̊̑͋̀̀t̷̻̤̫̲̹͉͐̂͑̈́̽e͇̤͍̞ͦ̏ͣ̉̾͝v͎͉̦͎̪̰ͯ̚a͇͚̙̦ͮͦͧ̾ͣͭh̨̗̔.͎͚͕̝̹̱̮ͬ̽̉͒͌̌̓͢.̓̅ͤͨ̚.̯͉ͯ͂̐̐ ̳̼̦̥̝̘̳̃ͧͩ̐́l̴̾ͬ̊l̡̉ͪ̋̒̑͌iͩ̆̈̓ͮ̈̐͞w̝̃͗ͨ͂ͫ͛e͗̒̓ͪ̄̄͏͙̦̗̦̰w̨͕̭̽ͧ̀ͨ.̰̟̜͛ͦͬ͘.͉̩͕͉͖.̻̙̼̞͉̟̎̅̈́̿͗ ͈̘̪͔͓͇̬ͫͧ̒n̶̦͈̭͙e̙̥ȟt̪͖̪̜̳̉̂̽ͫ̎́ ͍̱̝̳̥ͤ̏ͭ̌͌̎̚l̐ͭ̔͑̾i̯̱̺̎ͪ̐ͯ͋͑t̛̖̆ͯͯͣ̽̑̒n̗͍̰̯̤ͫ̓͠u̜͉̗ͬ.̲̝̬̿͠.̯.̫̜͚͓͔ͯͭ̀ͦ̚ͅ.̰͕̥̿̉ͤ̿͗ͪ͡.̎̊̉̄.̺͇̞̐ͩ̉͌͠

[ And when you wake up, at last, everything will be as it was before.

Or so it seems.
]

a d r e a m

Dec. 9th, 2014 06:36 pm
manxomnivore: (absorb)
[personal profile] manxomnivore
[ Tonight your dreams are black and cold. You open the window, and look towards the hills. Even through the nightly hours you can see their shapes clearly, no matter how far away. Near them rests a monster made from scorched earth. A scar over which no grass has grown for weeks and months and years. A scar which stirs tonight. Thin branches grow from the ground, and twist into black bones. Slick ooze drips from their form, rivulets of tar with lives of their own. They trickle higher and higher towards the moon which makes them gleam, and intertwine until they are made whole. Until they cover all black bone, and harden into leathery hide. Until they make scorched earth into flesh and blood. Beware the jaws whose shadows loom like jagged rock, and fear the claws that catch the sky in their greed. The shape flickers. The moon dies. Your dream is pitch black and ice cold, and only two yellow eyes gaze with intent towards where you stand. They can see you clearly now. And they are hungry. ]
snickeringsnack: (PHASE THREE; feast)
[personal profile] snickeringsnack
Hungry, so hungry, craving and needing and consuming and STARVING, and the beast—the Jabberwock, has already consumed the remains of its rabbity host. Those from its lair, too stupid to flee, had been consumed. Unfortunately, in the quickly emptying Mirror world, there were fewer memories to consume as well. Less flesh, less thoughts, and it was so hungry.

So, like any beast following its prey, it moved. Its trail is easy to follow; the mansion itself rots upon contact with his oozing darkness, and it seems these are wounds that even Wonderland can’t heal. From Mirror side to real, it makes no distinctions. It only hungers.

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