The Dream

By Wanderer

I found myself standing on a pale brick road in a bustling marketplace. The buildings were made of stone, and it looked as if I were in an old part of Italy. As beautiful as the architecture and scenary may have been, something was... off. I couldn't tell what it was, like someone or something was taunting me just behind the curtain of conscienceness. As I turned to find the source of this paranoia my eyes glided across a dark figure standing in the middle of the street. He looked to be in his thirty's and had an air of confidence about him that was almost tangible. He was dressed formally in a dark suit, but his chest was bared through his partially unbuttoned shirt. The man was beautiful.. His dark skin was so even and flawless that the gods would envy him. His hair was so dark and it curled at the end, perhaps symbolizing his rebellious nature. His eyes... His eyes were as black as his hair, as cold as his unbeating heart, as empty as the hole that leads to the pit of hell.


A sliver of fear crept into my mind. I then realized that no one else saw him. No one else felt the unease that I had. The passerbyes in the marketplace couldn't see him.. Or me. As I turned back to face him I thought I saw a glint in his bottomless eyes. That is when I ran.


I ran and ran and ran from the ominious black -clad figure. I let my feet carry me where they may, and I finally sought refuge in a church. I ran up to the belfry and sank down with my back to the wall. I took a deep breath and sighed.


The paranoia came back and I knew if I looked up he would be there. I lifted my eyes to meet my pursuer and I was caught in his gaze. He had a seductive half smile and a smug look in his eyes. 


"Who are you?" I asked. I hoped my fear didn't leak into my voice. I didn't want him to see my fear, however present it may be.


"You may call me Father" he replied. His voice floated around me and were I not paralyzed with fear I would've had the nerve to be aroused at his melodic voice.

When Father made no indication that he would say anything else I spoke once more, when I was sure my words wouldn't fail me. "Why are you here?" I whispered.

He gave me a little seductive half smile once more. "My dear," he simply said, "I am here to kill you."


I have never known true fear until this moment. Father leaned down to me and whispered to me "I want to play a game. I'll give you twenty minutes to run..." He glanced at the stairs and then back to me, implying that the game was to begin. I scrambled past the man and ran down the stairs, I ran through the streets of fair Italy and in the allies and between houses. I had been running so long. Every time I dared to turn around I thought I saw black curly hair in the croud, or the back or a black suit. Each time my fear was renewed and I ran more.

Dusk had come and gone, and I grew weary of this chase, and I knew it would come to an end. I sank to the ground and hoped and prayed that I was safe. That I could go home and sleep soundly. That this never happened, but that is not the case. I blinked and Father stood before me, in all his beautiful and unholy glory.

He smiled his half smile once more. Not out of humor, but out of victory and irony. This perverse game ended as it had began, down on the floor in terror with my back to the wall. "Well, well," he said, with pleasure dripping from his voice, "My little rabbit you gave me quite a chase. I have to say it was very fun my dear... But none of that matters now... The wolf has caught his prey."

His empty eyes glowed a dark red, as if something inside them was being awakened. Father kneeled down in front of me and leaned in close. The red in his eyes grew restless and fought its way to the top, spilling over the original black. He smiled a genuine smile now, but instead of his previous dazzling white perfect teeth, were long and needle-like teeth that have sheared the flesh off many a man. His eyes now finally engulfed in the dark and evil red, gleamed once more with desire. But he did not desire love, no, he desired something more malicious.

Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited. Ask the author first.
Copyright 2013 Wanderer
Published on Tuesday, May 7, 2013.     Filed under: "Short Story"

Author's Note:

This short story is based off of a dream I had and I'm still not sure what it means.
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Comments on "The Dream"

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  • MindSpawn SlyFang On Friday, April 11, 2014, MindSpawn SlyFang (64)By person wrote:

    Excellent story and one heck of a dream, if you did have it! And I must admit, if I had a dream like that, I would freak! Anyways, this is pretty thrilling, but also slightly terrifying all at the same time! So again, bravo, and what an ending! XD

  • Alchemist On Tuesday, May 7, 2013, Alchemist (860)By person wrote:

    Wow, so well written. I too have had the dream of being chased and according to some dream studies I've read being chased is common but I can't remember what it means. But I'm sure if you buy a book about dreams or just look up dreams on the net you can find out what your dreams mean.

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