The Dreamtime



The Dreamtime is a fantasy piece written by Styracosaurus Rider. Me. I warn you now: this is not a tale for the squeamish. Do you not like creepy tales? Click the back button. Afraid of the dark? Turn back. And are you scared of the bigger picture of life?

Well, you've been warned. This tale will give you nightmares. I know I got them.


Dreams are the most mysterious phenomena we know. We don't know why they happen. Or how. But the whole thing is a lot bigger than we think.

Because, in the world, Dreamers exist, individuals whose dreams are significant enough, somehow, to change the world. And something wants them dead.

It begins this night...



Nights are a blessing, because they are the realm of dreams.

Nights are a curse, because sleep is so close to death.

But when you think about it, death is just a dream in the end.

I - RunningEdit

Ever since the beginning, all that Edward knew was running. It didn't matter where he was going to run, or why he was running. He was just running. Running from the things left behind.

Edward Rockwell Kane, as far as he remembered, was alone. His entire family had gone, long ago. He didn't like it---nobody with an intact mind would. An intact mind, though, would be becoming hard to find these days.

And he ran from it all, turning it away. He had ran everywhere. The salt flats of Utah, dimly lit by the last slivers of a lonesome sunset. The frozen winter forests of Michigan, hiding in the Detroit estates. The southern regions of Alabama---never again. He wasn't fond of the rednecks to start with.

Now, Edward was in a cheap apartment outside of New York City. He wouldn't stay long, he never did. Especially not in this place. Newark was the only thing available for him, and he didn't like the fact that you'd probably get murdered here at the drop of a hat.

But today seemed to be different. The sky was open and bright, nothing like the rain that usually plagued the streets.

That's why Edward took a walk.

These days, it was dangerous. Every few days there was another killing here, and he would be a prime target at his age. But, he took the risk, and went out anyway.

He never saw the man.

The Dream came in the early hours of the morning.

It started in familiar surroundings, and then drifted farther away. Unconsciously, it was a clear message.

Edward awoke with a start. Sunlight beamed through the window.

He knew that it was something important.

He checked the alarm clock. 7:30.

He was definitely awake now.

It was almost like it wasn't a dream. It was like he had been living it.

The man walked back, thinking intently. The signals were defintely genuine, if the oneirometer was right. And the oneirometer was never wrong.

He kept thinking it was just an isolated incident. But there had never been any isolated incidents recorded. The fact was, if one Dream occured, there were going to be others.

Maybe he was what they needed. Because the enemies were rising again.

II - Dream CaptureEdit

The day started like any other, but it would end differently. Very differently.

It was three days after Edward's dream, which was still bouncing around in his head. It seemed not to make any sense at all, yet it did.

He read an article in a magazine once about dreams that predict the future. The article explained how, after a big cataclysm, people seem to start "remembering" dreams, even though the dreams didn't even exist. They were just an amalgamation created by their heads. But this wasn't like it...

Edward had been feeling uneasy ever since that September night. Maybe it was just temporary, it was bound to fade away eventually---

He heard a noise behind him.

Walking on the streets again, he didn't pay attention to much noise. Edward blocked it out of his head.

However, you couldn't ignore this noise even if you were deaf.

The hairs on the back of Edward's neck stood up like lightning, and before he could stop himself, he just darted into the door of the nearest building.

Coming to his senses, he looked around. There were cages around the walls, filled with lumps of fur. A pet shop.

What a fool! He was too jumpy. The noise was probably just a garbage truck.

Edward felt his body loosen, and he sighed. Whatever he did, it was best to just ignore the dream.

He stooped down and peered into one of the cages. Inside was a small rabbit, a Netherland Dwarf. Edward always liked these rabbits since he was a toddler. Maybe it was the pudgy face.

Sticking his fingers through the bars, he rubbed the rabbit's head. It was quite happy with this, and closed its eyes in pleasure.

When the rabbit's eyes opened again, they were a bright, blood-curdling red.

Edward shouted and stumbled backwards. Suddenly, the front of the cage split in two, opening outwards.

This sort of thing couldn't be happening. Could it? He didn't believe it at all, it was just wrong---

The rabbit was gone.

Half puzzled and half terrified, Edward stood up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. What the hell was going on?

He looked around, slightly afraid that he was making a spectacle of himself.

But there was nobody in the store. Nobody browsing, nobody at the front table. Not a soul.

That was odd enough, but then Edward remembered there was nobody on the streets, either. He hadn't seen anyone yet today.

He heard the noise again.

This time, he didn't even have time to register it properly, he just fled. Somewhere he could be safe.

Running up the street, he heard shuffling noises behind him, breathing noises, and, despite what he was telling himself, he turned his head and looked.

There was a pack of dark figures after him. No faces, just raggedy, terrifying, black figures.

In progress

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