The Dream
I woke up. Cold, frightened, shivering from the macabre dream. I recall as I lay, an impervious fog began to encompass my bed. The moonlight was cut from me, a solid wall that nothing could pervade. A soft and sullen voice spoke… “The dreamscape awaits thee…” The voice trailed off, the wall of fog began blossoming to bear forth black dahlia blooms, then a foul nectar began to drip from the accursed flowers, turning everything that it touched into black marble. I turned and placed my feet upon the floor, to discover that it is warm and comforting. I stood slowly, and began to survey my eldritch surroundings, everything about this place was queer, and nothing was lucid. I began to walk, the room traveling around me, elongating as I traversed through emptiness.
The corridors of this malignant place were dank, the walls smooth except for a few striations that seemed out of place. Although I was in a labyrinth, the passage seemed straightforward. A curious and redolent feeling that something was guiding me through this phantasm. I continued to traverse through the empty halls, the further I went, the more gibbous the walls and floor became, an anomalous foreboding of ill omen was set upon me by the pestiferous odours emanating from the marble floors. I came upon a grand opening, there were no torches within, yet it glowed as though it were being illuminated by a thousand lights. There is no clear explanation that I can offer as to what my eyes beheld in that grand citadel of daemonic possession. I noticed carvings strewn about the floors and walls; connecting to the striations that were present in the corridors leading into this dome. The carvings glowed with a miasmic feeling to them, they could only be described as being bright, but yet black as the inside of a tomb. Glistening, then they began to dim, then brighten, almost as a heart would beat, continuing incessantly. The middle of the floor was nonexistent, an abyss. I crawled towards it, as to not lose my footing and be consumed by this eldritch hole.
Looking down into the abyss, I saw stars, nebula, planets, galaxies, many things swirling and being consumed by other cosmic masses. The longer I looked into the abyss, the lighter I felt, the more relaxed I became. The foreboding of evil was gone, I resurveyed my surroundings to find myself not looking into the abyss, but in it. As I looked around I saw everything within the universe, the unseen vistas of the cosmic monolith that had never been captured by humankind. I saw the past, present, and future. I saw the reformations of galaxies after collisions with others. The remains of stars after they imploded and burnt out. Then I was looking down upon myself, hovering within the same citadel as I once sat, but yet still sat. I was looking upon myself crouched over this abyss, showing the creation of life and civilisation. There was no connexion between me and my mortal body. A phantasmagoric look back upon not only my life, but of everyone who had visited this queer place, as I was seeing through their eyes looking upon myself, I awoke.
Laying in my bed, shaking, panicking, I have no logical explanation that can express to a sane mind what I beheld within those corridors and citadel, I can only hope that I can once again travel there and return, so that I may carry with myself understanding as to what it is. For now my dreams are dull, blank, no longer vivid like they once was. Perhaps the dreamscape will call upon me again, and I will see myself looking once again into that abyss…
I know some may point out spelling errors, however I used the old spellings of words, the turn of the century British spellings as used by HP Lovecraft.
