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magic_fratboyNOTE: A recurring dream heavily inspired by this illusion, and relating to events stemming from this post.
How many miles to Babylon?
Three score and ten.
Can I get there by candlelight?
Aye, and back again.
If your feet are nimble and light,
You'll get there by candlelight.
They caught up to him quickly and had him down before he knew what was happening. Everything was so dark...too dark to be the parlor, and White was gone. Slick black flesh, noxious breath, nails on chalkboard screaming deadened his senses in the most horrific manner possible.
He was dreaming. He was locked in a nightmare. He was dying.
Tommy fought as they bound him to the slab and struggled to use his power as the blade came down, slicing his body in two, but the moment the circular saw touched him he knew he was lost.
One bite, one cut, and they’ll turn you inside out...
He hung from two halves of an iron slab, the metal cold and unforgiving against his back. His body burned, flesh torn and bleeding as he saw himself swinging in two pieces. This was no illusion. He was ripped in two and bleeding to death.
It would take him a long time to die. The Darkness would make sure of that.
As it was, a thin veil hung between him and the rest of the dream, dim and stifling. There was no air, no respite, no hope. He was drowning without water, there was no surface left for him to break to find a single lungful of oxygen. Hold his breath, try to escape...it was his only hope.
And his powers were gone.
Fall like Babylon, burn like hellfire. Take his life, his soul, his meat! No light. No hope. No life.
He was cold, hot, writhing as he clung to the chains that suspended the platform from the ground. No ground to go to...no light. No hope. No life.
He couldn’t move.
Only once did he feel any warmth...soft, feminine curves, but the face was nightmarishly distorted. Still, there was delicacy there, and he was almost certain that he knew it to be someone who could help him.
No light. No hope. No life. Take his life, his soul, his meat!
There was no light, no warmth...but it was there. Out there, somewhere...
I can stay alive if I can remember the light.
He was going to forget in this sensory deprivation tank that his own subconscious, sleeping mind had become...but he could hold on if he could remember the light. Reach for the light, believe in the light.
This was the way. This was how they did it every day. Tommy was dying, but it was a human death.
If he could find hope the way humans did, maybe he could make it. Maybe he could get his power back.
So in sleep, Tommy slept...and as his essence bled away in the ether of his mind, he struggled with what little strength he had to believe.
Muse: Tommy Karras
Fandom: Original Character
Words: 496
How many miles to Babylon?
Three score and ten.
Can I get there by candlelight?
Aye, and back again.
If your feet are nimble and light,
You'll get there by candlelight.
They caught up to him quickly and had him down before he knew what was happening. Everything was so dark...too dark to be the parlor, and White was gone. Slick black flesh, noxious breath, nails on chalkboard screaming deadened his senses in the most horrific manner possible.
He was dreaming. He was locked in a nightmare. He was dying.
Tommy fought as they bound him to the slab and struggled to use his power as the blade came down, slicing his body in two, but the moment the circular saw touched him he knew he was lost.
One bite, one cut, and they’ll turn you inside out...
He hung from two halves of an iron slab, the metal cold and unforgiving against his back. His body burned, flesh torn and bleeding as he saw himself swinging in two pieces. This was no illusion. He was ripped in two and bleeding to death.
It would take him a long time to die. The Darkness would make sure of that.
As it was, a thin veil hung between him and the rest of the dream, dim and stifling. There was no air, no respite, no hope. He was drowning without water, there was no surface left for him to break to find a single lungful of oxygen. Hold his breath, try to escape...it was his only hope.
And his powers were gone.
Fall like Babylon, burn like hellfire. Take his life, his soul, his meat! No light. No hope. No life.
He was cold, hot, writhing as he clung to the chains that suspended the platform from the ground. No ground to go to...no light. No hope. No life.
He couldn’t move.
Only once did he feel any warmth...soft, feminine curves, but the face was nightmarishly distorted. Still, there was delicacy there, and he was almost certain that he knew it to be someone who could help him.
No light. No hope. No life. Take his life, his soul, his meat!
There was no light, no warmth...but it was there. Out there, somewhere...
I can stay alive if I can remember the light.
He was going to forget in this sensory deprivation tank that his own subconscious, sleeping mind had become...but he could hold on if he could remember the light. Reach for the light, believe in the light.
This was the way. This was how they did it every day. Tommy was dying, but it was a human death.
If he could find hope the way humans did, maybe he could make it. Maybe he could get his power back.
So in sleep, Tommy slept...and as his essence bled away in the ether of his mind, he struggled with what little strength he had to believe.
Muse: Tommy Karras
Fandom: Original Character
Words: 496
