Post by starkindler201 on Feb 17, 2006 20:06:10 GMT -5
This is the first bit of a book I am writing currently. It is about a man, who when he dreams, he sees into the supernatural world. I wont spoil all the plot-twists... but I will tell you... he has more than a little fight on his hands
.Echoes of Eternity:
The Dreamers
By
Nathan Poorbaugh
Intro:
He was running, an irrational fear in an unseen attacker driving his path. It did not matter where he ran, nothing mattered here, except escape. Through the blinding panic shrouding his eyes he could scarcely discern what surrounded him. It fluctuated and shimmered like the morning sun on an oily sea. One moment appearing farther than anyone could run, the next stealing his very breath. He could not see his pursuer… he never could. He just knew, without reason, that it was there; following him, taunting him… hunting him. Wherever the wanderer went it was there, and wasn’t there. The colors and shapes surrounding him shifted into images familiar and foreign, though in this state it was hard to discern the difference. Shadows began to close in around the wanderer, they always did… didn’t they? No… the shadows were a blinding light greater than a thousand stars burning him to his core, threatening to engulf him with their hateful glare. As they drew closer the shadows became as black as the wanderer’s own darkest desire. Slowly they merged around him, closed in… and swallowed him whole.
Hello, my name is James Mitchell. The book you are about to read documents the unlikely story of an ordinary man, who through circumstances beyond his understanding, became a legend. The journey began on one fateful day when my view of the world was turned on it’s head. When life as I knew ceased… and life beyond my reckoning began. My story is not for all, for some would count it as lunacy… maybe it was. All I know is my perception of myself and the world surrounding us changed drastically on that day. The day I heard the echoes of eternity…
Chapter One:
James awoke with a start, eyes frantically searching his surroundings. After 3 sweeps of the room he realized that there were no supernatural phantoms or shimmering pools of living liquid. He was home, in his bed, alone. Then, just as he finally released the breath he had held since he awoke, he saw a shadow begin to move through the room. It fluctuated in size as it came closer and closer to the dreamer. His eyes fixated on the shadow as his mind began searching for ways to escape. But the shadow blocked his only means of exit, short of a 3 story fall from a closed and locked window. Closer and closer the shadow crept, growing in size as the dreamer watched, and waited. Then, just as it seemed that it was over for the dreamer, the shadow made a strange but familiar noise. The shadow then leapt up on his bed, curled up at his feet, and began to purr. “Zippo…” the dreamer said as he picked up the cat and lovingly stroked it’s fur. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again!” Reason began to form once more in the dreamer’s mind as the near fatal fright from a household feline began to fade. This was not his dream world… he was not trapped or being hunted by any otherworldly phantasms or lights that became darkness. The entire affair seemed completely ludicrous to any mind short of a rubber room. But it seemed so real… ah well. He had to focus on this world now. Not some foreign figment of a troubled mind.
The man walked deliberately, as if every step carried him towards his goal rather than the mundane meeting he now went to attend. What fools they were, actually allowing these ignorant bastards to remain alive. But he knew better, he knew what they had done to his people, his family. He knew what they were capable of. Behind those smiling faces and utopian proverbs lay something deeper, a snake, waiting and willing to strike at any moment wherever it is given slightest cause. Those who were not venomous serpents were nothing more than puppets, unable to stand on their own 2 feet without strings of “faith” holding them up. They clung to it and hid behind it. They were a plague… a vermin that like any other disease carrying rodent must be quickly and firmly crushed under one’s heel. The thought once more began to rise in the man’s head… and he smiled. Soon enough… they all would know, and there is nothing the fools, vermin or their idiot “God” could do to save them now.
Chapter Two
The dreamer sat and stared out the diner window absentmindedly, his mind hundreds of miles away. Normally he wasn’t the daydreaming type but his recent experiences caused him to wonder what it was he really saw. Is that an oak tree he is looking at outside his window, or is it something deeper. Could there be something different, something more to this world than what we could see, touch or hear. Or could it be that James was merely losing his already fragile mind? After all… things such as this are complete lunacy. This is a world governed by reason and science, not vague intuition or superstition. How could he begin to believe in these dreams instead of what he has been taught his whole life? His mind began to drift as his eyes landed on an object flying closer and closer to him. For a moment he stiffened, but soon the soft shape of a dove began to form. He watched as the bird came closer and landed on the windowsill and began to peck at little pieces of bread. “James”. His eyes bolted to the bird… had it just spoken his name? Now he knew that he was losing his mind. What next… Zippo reciting a Shakespearian sonnet? “James?”. No… he knew he heard it this time. But what about… “James!”. His eyes moved to the person sitting opposite him. He must have been so deep in thought he forgotten all about Sarah. “Hello? Anyone home?” Sarah asked with a hint of annoyance in her voice. “There must be something special outside that window to draw your attention like that. What’s out there?”. The dreamer slowly looked towards her and answered, “I don’t know, I just don’t know…”
It was dark, the sun blotted out by a rising mist that grew ever closer. The only sound filling the air a distant and incessant clicking. The man’s first instinct was to turn and run, but he had been here before. He knew what to expect, but that did not calm his rising fear. He had to see the seer once more, he had to know what he was to do. It had been 3 years since he had first ventured into this shadowworld. His first experience had left him so shaken that he had nearly lost his mind. But throughout the years he had learned to keep his sanity in this place… but the fear was a constant. The mist was now close enough to touch if he so desired. He braced himself for what he knew would happen to him once the mist took him, and he shuddered. Slowly and ever so gently the mist touched his skin. The feeling at first was cool and actually quite pleasant, but soon the pain came. A burning, blinding pain that ravaged him wherever the mist touched him. The skin the mist touched blistered and began to flake away. Deliberately, and with more than a little effort, the man stepped fully into the mist. He opened his mouth as his face contorted in a silent scream, he wasn’t ready for this… he never was. The darkness surrounding him was complete, as if the light within withered and died as the man soon would. He would have to speak quickly if he would survive this time. “Seer” he half-wailed in the voice of one long dead, “come to me!”. Then, before his face, two red eyes shone… and a low guttural laugh began to reverberate through the mist. It shook the man and began to strip away the small thread of sanity he still held. The seer then began to speak, and everything went black…