Picture of the Day:

My apartment complex flooded today; we had tornados about!

Quote of the Day: 

"All the things one has forgotten scream for help in dreams." 

-Elias Canetti

Hello, my dearest readers! Today has been quite the lazy day; and I admit openly to you that I probably should not have been so relaxed. I have spent all day inside, for outside a storm has raged all day. Lightning, thunder, torrential down-pouring and flooding all kept me cooped up inside. Oh, and the threat of the ever devastating tornado. I must say, it was certainly a lovely display of power, and while I did not venture out to walk around, I kept all my windows open and listened to the sound of the rain with great interest and relaxation. 

And somehow, I thought of this: 

A while back, I would venture to say about three or four years ago, I had a nightmare. My sister and a friend of mine had stayed up late playing Haunting Ground. It is a fantastic horror game for the PS2. In the game, you play a girl named Fiona who is trapped in a mansion in the woods, and monsters chase you. Your only defense is to hide. You cannot fight back, and the more you run from them, the more exhausted your character gets. Basically, you can go into "panic mode", which makes the screen fuzzy, black and white, choppy, and makes your character hard to control. 

Anyway, after a couple of hours running from monsters in a dark room at midnight, going to bed made it inevitable that I would dream up something just as twisted. And so I did. 

I dreamed that I was asked to come with a bunch of other people to a secluded mansion to meet with some funders that supported a Christian scholarship. I waited around in the front lobby with a few other girls and guys and awaited my turn to speak with the head of the scholarship fund to see if I ultimately could get any money for my college endeavors. When it was finally my turn, and I was called in, it dawned on me that I had not seen any of the other girls leave before me. The man I was speaking to left me very uneasy, and after a few moments of conversation I got the impression that the man was evil. I bolted from the room, but he called one of his butlers to catch me and keep me at bay. I was screaming and running through this mansion with these demon-like staff members on my trail. It was increasingly clear that whatever was chasing me was not human, and it was equally becoming apparent that I was going to be unable to escape it. So, I tried to hide. 

But there was no place to go. The corridor was lined with doors that were closed and the butler demon was gaining on me. As I passed a certain door, though, something grabbed my arm and pulled me inside, closing the door and locking it behind us. At first, I wanted to scream some more, but they covered my mouth and begged me to stay quiet, assuring me that they were trying to help me. The footsteps of the demon guy could be heard approaching, and my rescuer, a very handsome young man in a period-esque style of dress, bade me to hide beneath his desk while he threw off the monster. So, I scrambled for cover beneath the desk and listened. 

The handsome guy answered the door when the butler knocked on it. I don't rightly remember the conversation they had, but I do remember for a moment I was afraid that the rescuer was going to turn me over. Nothing happened, though, and the monster left on his own accord to pursue me down the corridor. He found me beneath the desk and smiled at me, and assured me I could come out now. 

Somehow we got to talking, and he explained that people did not often attempt to run away from his father. So, I got gutsy and asked what the heck he wanted with me. In response, the young man said, "The same thing he wants from everyone. Your soul."

It turned out, that the man at the head of this "scholarship" was Satan himself, and that the young man who had rescued me was one of his sons; the youngest one. Naturally, I asked why he had helped me. He replied that he didn't know. 

Through a course of events, which I now cannot recall, I ended up in a confrontation between Satan's oldest sons and myself. The youngest son was there, but sadly watching. He had said that he was part demon, and could no longer protect me. He was destined to be like his father, pre-damned; unable to fight his inherent evilness. So, the elder brothers were pitted against me in a grand display of fallen-angel powers. And I was losing, badly. I think I had been trying to escape, and trying to convince the youngest son to come with me. Anyway, I was basically losing my soul and body to the most horrendous of tortures. I could tell I was dying.

So the youngest son broke in to rescue me from his brothers, when he could no longer take the fact that I was being tortured and wounded just because I was someone who was "good". But I was already dead. I kind of became some sort of angel. I could see my body bleeding below me, and I could see the son fighting trying to protect me. 

His brothers were casting jeers at him, calling him a traitor, and saying he would never be able to keep it up because he was the devil's son. God would never help him. The dream ended when I told that son that God would forgive him, no matter what. 

I think, perhaps, I may take this on as another noveling endeavor and change the plot a bit to make it more conducive to a fantasy novel with a Christian moral at the end. No matter what, God loves you. You always have a choice. 

Clearly, my imagination is over-active. But, I like it that way. I am never lacking inspiration.