I was in a busy market, surrounded by the sounds of bartering. The market felt almost as if it was inside a large building, but it could’ve just been that the surrounding buildings were close together and the stalls each had their own covering. I knew two of the jewelers that had stands there and mingled a bit with each.
Then chaos broke loose. People were running everywhere. The dream was a little fuzzy, but I eventually pieced together that a volcano exploded from the center of one of the buildings. I knew that people were dying. I saw lava burn up stands as it swept down a road.
The lava finally escaped down a hole in the ground and the chaos dissipated.
From the bits and pieces of the dream that I got after that, we were trying to see what we could salvage. One of my friends and I picked up what we could of some of the beads and leather that we found in hopes of making things that we could trade in the more basic economic system that we knew would develop after this catastrophe.
The next portion of the dream began with digging in a field. I was in charge of a group of people and was directing them where to dig. I don’t remember the exact purpose of digging, but the holes were deep and appeared almost instantaneously. In one hole, we unearthed a huge claw/finger thing. It was the finger of a huge robotic hand and I recognized it on sight. I knew that the machine was malicious, or had been used for that purpose. There was an ethical debate within myself of whether or not I should have them continue digging and unearth the thing. Part of me hoped that if we just left it buried, I would never have to deal with it; the other part knew of the inevitability of facing whatever lay under the earth.
We excavated the body of the machine (it appeared like a mix of Power Ranger Droid and a Transformer), but left the limbs still covered. Our attention was drawn to a human form that lay on top on the chest of the machine. It was a girl that had been blindfolded and buried with the machine. I investigated, trying to see if we could solve the mystery of whom she was and who had killed her.
The body moved!
I stepped back, in shock. The girl fidgeted and then rolled over on her side, as if she were merely sleeping. Realizing that she was still alive seemed to put together some pieces of the puzzle in my head as to what had happened.
Back when these machines had been used, they were used for evil. You see, it took a very twisted ritual, magic, and a young soul to bring these things to life. Once the ritual was finished, if the person that the machine was attached to was killed, it would allow the machine to absorb the remainder of the soul and become independent and free-reigning. If the child (for it usually was a child) remained alive, it would have some degree of control over the machine.
I knelt close to the girl and tried to wake her up slowly, for I feared that any strong emotional response from her would wake the machine beneath her that, out of luck, was still dormant. She woke with a start, but I did the best I could to reassure her. She calmed down and began to talk to me, asking questions.
She asked about her parents. I told her they were dead (I assumed as much considering that she had been buried for quite some time. However, I was not sure because the whole time factor kept getting mixed up in the dream and I was not sure if it had only been a year since I had heard of a murder that I was sure was hers, or if it had been centuries). I hoped that I was right because I did not want to imagine the heated temper that could escape her via the machine beneath us. I discovered that she had attended my high school but had graduated a few years after me. This only confused my time sense of the dream more so.
The girl was petite, had blonde hair that was virtually shaved in the back and longer hair in the front that was combed backward to where the shaved and the long hair met. She seemed very innocent and warmed to me rather quickly.
With a little explanation from her and a long look into her eyes, I saw what had happened to her.
There was a wizard, much like Gandalf from LOTR. Where we stood had been the center of a stone fort. Gandalf (we’ll use the name for reference sake) had tricked a great king into teaching him his call for his horse. The king’s horse was, in this dream, the lord of all horses and a very pure and trusting creature. Gandalf stood on the stone wall and called the horse. In his hand he held a very young wolf pup, and to his right was the girl, tied and blindfolded, still oblivious to her fate.
When the horse arrived, it was confused at the call from someone other than the king; yet, still trusting, climbed the ramp to the top of the wall to stand by Gandalf. Gandalf quickly took a knife and stabbed the horse neatly behind the shoulder blades, reached in and pulled out the horse’s heart.
Gandalf took the heart in one hand, the puppy in the other, held them over his head and began to chant. He then dropped first the puppy, then the heart in a hole in the wall the led down into a great chasm beneath. I watched the puppy land and the heart land on top of it, crushing it with the force of falling. Gandalf then grabbed the girl and tossed her into the hole and the memory went dark because the girl could remember nothing after that.
I was confused and frightened at this memory. I had been sure in my heart that Gandalf had been on our side. I knew that murder of such innocent lives. Why would he be doing something that was working with Them (I am not quite sure who They are, but They are dark and evil).
A small chance of a hope that I found in my heart was that he had seen a greater need for us to have this child and machine now. This child had to be special because I knew that the machines were inherently evil-driven. Perhaps she was stronger than the others.
For some reason I took this hope to mean that she was stronger physically and in fighting. I talked to her and got her excited with the hope and then asked the group of people I was with for their assistance. I told them that she could take any one of them down in a fight. Most laughed, or were too shy to step forward. Finally, one of my friends who is about 6’3” and 230 lbs and is a funny guy stepped forward. I knew he had no intention of actually hurting the girl, but I had apparently puffed up her confidence, so she stepped forward and punched him in the gut…
Nothing happened. She tried again with the same result. Apparently she did not have extraordinary strength.
So, if not extraordinary strength, then what was so special about her? I had a few things I wanted to try…
Next thing I know, my mom is waking me up by putting her new little Shih-Poo puppy on me so it can lick my ear and wake me up. Blasted mornings! Why do I never get to finish my dreams?
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