Arboretum

Through the tunnels I track them, my hand detached from my arm detached from my torso detached from my head. I cradle a shotgun at the ready. They will not escape me.

Vent. Tables. A restaurant. Keep going. I come to the end. An opening; light. An arboretum? Stone walls, a tree. Sky through the open top. Blue sky, clouds. Peace. The rusty mining cart is covered by the tree’s roots.

I see the opening of the next tunnel. They have spoiled this place of peace by their presence. I will avenge it. I go on.

This tunnel is older. Stone walls drip moisture, forming puddles on the floor, and patches of moss dot both walls and floor. I hear their footsteps skittering against the floor ahead and echoing back toward me.

In the arboretum, a swing hangs from the tree, swaying slowly back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. Laughter echoes throughout the empty room.

I see another vent. It hangs open into the restaurant. People sit around tables, oblivious. I go through the vent, straighten, look around. They have obviously been here. I feel their passage in the air.

Ghosts of children flicker through the arboretum. The grass on the surface around the open top sways in the breeze of their passage.

The restaurant is shaped like a C, tables curving around a central aisle. They have headed toward one end. I must stop them. I follow, a snarl twisting my lips. Now I know where this will end. I do not want to come to the ending, but fate drags me onward. Toward the end. Toward destiny. I grip my pistol nervously. I don’t want to open fire in here, among the innocent people.

Restaurant noises fill the air. Chatter, the clink of dishes, happy sounds. They seem out of place to me.

I see the end. A table is against the wall, people sit around it. I don’t know them, except for one. My eyes fall on her, take her in. The black dress, looping over her shoulders, leaves her arms bare and displays the blood-red jewel nestled between her breasts. Colors swirl within the jewel, mirroring the colors swirling in her eyes. Anger is apparent on her face.

“What are YOU doing here?”

I try to explain my mission. They will overrun this place, destroy everyone, but she bulls over me.

“I told you never to come near me again.” I grip my sword awkwardly. I feel out of place here more than ever. I must get away.

“After what you did to me, you think I’d let you just come in here after these-” I have had enough. Panic fills every fiber of my being, my vision blurs, I drop my knife to the ground. “I did nothing to you!” I scream, tears screaming down my face.

“NOTHING!”

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This is a vivid dream I had in 2008 which I felt the need to record. The inconsistencies are accurate to the dream.