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The Devil’s Brains

Nightmare | October 21, 2012

Early in the this night's dream some friends and I were at our old childhood fort under the banyan tree. Some new kid in the neighborhood was there and we were entertaining local girls. The fort we hacked together with plywood was now cherried out and brightly lit like a spiffy modern house. I distinctly remember the nice furniture and multiple levels built into the thick branches of the tree.

Fast forward to adulthood. All of us are now scattered into the world. I'm wandering down some suburban street and I see that kid again sitting in front of his house next to the driveway.

He waves me over and asks me if I want some cocaine. I say sure and we go into his house.

Lo and behold his lovely sister is inside wandering about. While he goes into his room I engage her in a conversation with intent to get her into bed.

While we're talking their father comes in and puts me to work on some carpentry in the living room. I'm fine with that since it allows me to stay there and talk with her.

Then my friend comes back and says we have to take a drive coz he's all out. So we hop into a red convertible and start driving down some sunny forest road near a stream. Crossing a bridge we drive up a hill and then emerge onto a country highway.

At that point we get out and the car disappears. We have this idea that we have a job to do painting the yellow lane lines that divide the highway. But we have no supplies! As we walk into a nearby neighborhood looking for paint, the wind begins to pick up speed.

We approach some houses and the wind is now howling. Trees are swishing back and forth. Debris is flying about. Shutters are slamming against windows. We're starting to get worried we might get hit by something, or that something might fall on us, so we bang on the first door, shouting at anyone inside to let us in!

Nobody answers the door so we rush it and break on through. Inside, the house is shaking and shuddering. Through the door the storm has reached a fever pitch. Against the roar of the wind we push the door closed.

The house is suddenly dark and creepy. I'm squinting around but I cannot see my friend. So I walk down a hallway of old wood creaking underfoot. When I step into a large dining room I know that I am alone; my friend is gone.

Along one whole wall is a huge, wide window separated into numerous square panes of glass.

Outside is a child's vision of hell. The neighborhood is a red fiery blaze against the night sky. In the foreground the black silhouettes of trees are thrashed by the storm. Hurling across this roaring fire are chunks of houses, battered cars, and an occasional human body. I am shocked by the sight of this nightmare world.

A noise behind me. In the opposite wall a door opens slightly and a middle-aged woman beckons me in.

I step inside and pull the door closed. The woman switches on a night light that dimly illuminates the room. She looks very worried, making fidgety movements and pacing around the small bedroom. Up on the top mattress of a bunk bed is a strange baby. His skin is almost transparent, with a slowly swirling bluish liquid instead of internal organs.

"He's coming for us. This is all his work." She motions towards the storm with one hand. Then she shrieks, "I can't go with him. I just can't!"

She is talking about her husband, and I think he must be some supernatural being.

Now people are pounding on the door, trying to smash it in! We stand there, staring as the door shakes on its hinges with each blow. Behind us the baby makes a happy squeal.

When the door explodes open I charge into the shadowy group trying to enter, knocking black shapes back into the dining room. Other black shapes backlit with vivid red are rushing around and into the room. Through that giant window the fiery tempest still rages. Against the far wall is a fireplace where I grab a poker. Some sinister shape attacks me and I drive the sharp end of my weapon into it while running back to the bedroom.

The room is still. The night light now casts a deep red glow, illuminating a tall man in a long black overcoat standing in the corner holding the child and watching me. The woman is next to him, stricken with white fear.

It is the devil himself. His features are severe, and his eyes drill into me. The sharp smile is for watching people tortured to death.

"You had the devil's child?" I ask the woman, but she stares blankly into space.

If I don't make a move I will soon be dead. Gripping the poker with both hands I swing it like a machete at the devil's skull, slicing off a neat piece of his forehead as if with a laser. Before he can respond I'm hammering him with the heavy poker. His skull cracks and chunks of brains explode out. Still holding the baby he crumples to the floor and I'm bludgeoning his body, but it's hard to see what I'm doing in the darkness.

I step back and the room is still again. The woman is staring at me with a shocked expression and mouth agape, hands in front of her and backing away. She says something almost incoherent but I know she is trying to tell me "run!"

From the dark floor the devil is rising up again. The baby in his arms utters a malevolent giggle.

Oh yes I'm running now, out of the bedroom, across the huge blazing window as trees hurtle through the red sky and the wind rocks the house. Through the angry violence of sound I can hear the devil's laughter behind me. I can feel his presence growing larger, eating up the house and everything in it, soaking the walls like blood as I run through the hallway. He's going to cut me off and trap me inside. I'm running in slow motion, trying to reach the door and escape into a madness outside rather than suffer an eternity of torture in here.

I'm clawing for the door in the screaming darkness, feeling the devil's fury building up around me as I wake up in a cold sweat.

Tags   Death   Destruction   Drugs   Violence

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