Pack

16th Dec 2012
I feel the need to warn that near the end of this dream is a rather detailed section describing violence to an infant. I have chosen to keep this in the dream as I do not like to edit them, however I have taken the option to change the colour of the text to a dark grey so the reader has the option to skip or read it. The scene may be distressing to some due to its nature. I cannot be held reliable for any distress caused if you chose to highlight and read the passage.

Me and my father had moved into a new house, which in my dreams is often my previous house, I remember thinking that I was ready to move on now. That the things that kept me tied to my current house were no longer holding me back. In older dreams where I have moved house with the family, I have always felt upset that I was leaving certain things behind that you might say I had become obsessed with or overly attached to. I was happy to be moving on now, and more so, I was so happy that I was back to my old house. A house I missed so much.

I decided to go outside and have a look around. The street was completely different to where the real house is situated. On one side there were houses of different sizes, from bungalows to row houses. The street was sloped, from my right hand side going up and down to the left. Opposite were trees and bushed, many of them were bare or turning Autumn gold. Behind those you could see the embankment drop. It kind of reminded me of Scarborough.

I went for a walk, turning left from the house and crossing the street. I made my way to a little benched that was facing the tree line. I noticed a little fox running around. I started to approach me so I stood on the bench, but it was able to take hold of my left foot. I felt no pain and didn’t believe that it had penetrated to boot I was wearing. I started to kick at it, trying to force it away from me. I managed to grab a long thick pole. It looked like a tree branch that had been stripped bare and smoothed out. I used it to push the fox back, then kicked the end hard. It didn’t seem to harm the fox, but it did push it down the embankment and out of my way.  The embankment seemed to steep for the fox to climb and I turned around and made my way back up the hill.

I couldn’t remember which house was mine, so I just kept walking. Near the top of the hill was a bend to the left. Opposite was a dark, gloomy house that had steps that lead downwards to an open area. I had felt uneasy here, the whole street felt “wrong”. At first I assumed it was due to the fact my old house was in the wrong place, but it was more than that.

There a small group of young people here. A baby of no discernible gender, a young girl between six and eight and an older boy.  These people were not completely human and I knew now that neither was I. The reason the street felt so wrong was that my father had unknowingly moved us to a house on a street run by weres. This area was a mess and the people in it filthy. I sensed the approach of a male, he was a powerful one but I could feel more, his power was unstable.  He appeared behind a sofa that the young girl was on. She looked at me with hope, fear and desperation in her eyes. The girl, although dirty, was beautiful. Her blonde hair fell to her waist, there were streaks of brown with in it, but it was all natural. I envisaged her in wolf form, that coat would bare the same colours and would be so striking.

It was then I noticed the other man, he was laying on the floor at the side of the sofa. He was drunk and awash with the scent of failure. I knew this man had given up. My attention returned to the person who had just arrived, he too was drunk but seemingly more on power than anything else, his mind was as broken and dirty as the surrounding. His black hair, all matted, knotted and greasy fell to his shoulders. His eyes were almost black, but appeared to give off a dark light as though darkness itself was trying to shine through.

From appearance sake, this man was a nobody a nothing. The sort of person you would ignore on the street, or find some way to simply avoid them. While not a threat, you wouldn’t want to be seen with them, simple street scum. But those of us who could see more, who could feel more knew better. His aura was a dark, midnight blue colour and appeared faded and fractured. This man knew death intimately and the power rolled off him in waves. This man was dangerous.

He started to question me, he knew what I was as I knew what he was. He also knew I feared him, as much power as I have, he was stronger. A broken mind with so much power made for a volatile mixture, no sane man would look at him and not be afraid. He wanted me to join him, join his pack. But I knew that their situation was because of him. Living in squalid, malnourished and barely survivable conditions. But not because he was inept, but because he knew it would break their spirit, stop them from fighting back and God forbid they try. Abuse of all kind ran rampant here.

I knew I couldn’t join him, I was new, I wasn’t beaten into submission yet. I understood why the child looked at me with hope and desperation. I could tell whether the fear was of him, or that I might leave her alone with him. It took all the strength in me to meet his eye and turn him down. He laughed then, told me that it wasn’t a choice. Me moved around the sofa to the man lying on the floor, grabbed him by his coat collar and lifted him like he weighed no more than the cry baby.

His clawed fingers dug into the neck of the man, a swath of red blood pour from his neck as he ripped it out and dropped him to the floor. The man never made a sound, or even seemed to recognise he had been moved. If the man was the girl’s father she made no attempt to show feeling for him, she’d already learnt by now that such show of emotion only made her a target for his ‘fun’.  But unlike the boy and what may have been her father, her spirit was not yet broken. There was still something to save.

But it was what was to come that really let me know what I was dealing with. I made it clear to him that I had no intention of joining his pack. A smile spread across his face, no words could describe how vile that smile was, the malice behind it. He grabbed the baby, I shouted at him not to do it, the girl cried at him to leave it alone. His sharp teeth sank into its leg, bone shattered under his power as he pulled his head back tearing the leg for the child. He sank his teeth into its abdomen, his left hand pulling at the head, his teeth at the bottom. The pelvis and all connected lower flew from his mouth, the head tore from the neck and the midsection dropped to the floor.

I could take no more, the challenge was brought. A fight to the death, I could lead these people, save them. But he made it clear to me that if he won his celebration would be the girl. Whatever fight she had left in her would be lost with me.

The scene changed, we were farther up the hill on a grassy bank. On one side was him and the rest of the street, all of them defeated without hope. On the other was me and the girl, he brother lay behind her in a ball. I looked up and saw the moon bathed in a red glow, fitting that blood would flow tonight under the blood moon. This was a fight I couldn’t win, I knew I could fight him, order cannot win in a land of chaos. I knew what I would do. He made the first move, he charged.

My left hand came up blocking his right hand from striking me, in unison my right hand struck his chin, forcing back his head and my fangs sank into his throat. The dream fades as hot coppery blood floods my mouth.

Ghost Cat 2

I wake up, lying in bed face down. I felt the cat jump up on to the bed and walk over me and up the left/wall side of the bed and lay down near the top, right by my head. I daren’t move, I don’t show that I am aware of its presence. I think to myself whether or not I am asleep or awake, a question even now I can’t answer.

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