My World (Lich King)

(Based on a dream)

It is a dark night and I cannot feel the weather. I am possessed by the images playing before me. I stand outside a shop window watching a television on the other side of the glass.

I watch a grotesque picture show worthy of a cheep horror flick, but is not – it is the world news. There is an epidemic of birth mutations, seeming to be the world over. These are not the “normal” mutations one would imagine but these children do not appear to be human at all. Goblins, trolls, elves, and other creatures I could not name, coming forth from human mothers. Few were elf like and attractive but the rest were hideous abominations bringing screams from nurses and mothers alike.

The reporter focuses on one “child” mostly human in nature for one exception, it bore a second head of a hideous goblin. The head was centered in the chest of the child and they moved as one. As the baby screamed, it screamed. As the baby's head turned, it too turned. Together they opened their eyes, together they looked about, focusing together they looked at the camera and together they screamed.

I turn and walk away, suddenly indifferent to what my eyes had just seen. I follow the city streets till I approached my house and am met by my brother and his girlfriend. I do not invite them in but they follow anyway. They sit on my sofa and I take a seat across from them. Their eyes are hungry, transfixed on me as tho I were prey. I know what they have become.

“You are vampires.” I accuse flatly.

They bare a coy grin, both seem amused that I “guessed” their nature so quickly.

Again I am indifferent and emotionless, “Are you here to turn me or to feed on me?”

Their grins broaden to the edge of laughter, I am the blunt of a joke that only they know. I stand, they do not, still they grin staring past me. I walk past them, still they grin and sit as stone. They have no power over me.

Beyond them up a short set of steps is my library. I enter it taking in the details of all that I have held precious. Hundreds of antique books line the walls surrounding my desk. Beside the desk is a huge globe of lands not of this world. Near the desk, penetrating the fortress of books and shelves is a tall window. The paint on its panes is old and flaky and I am amused by this. I walk to the window and look out to a sky that should not be. Deep royal purple lit by a full moon but without stars. Thick gray clouds roll but travel nowhere. I admire how the buildings about capture the light of the moon. I look down to the grass a deep dark green and about seeing trees and other plants swaying to unheard music. There is no wind.

As tho somebody opened the books of nightmare and fantasy and spilled their contents, this world is forever changed. It was I who opened the books and I smile...

by Gabriel Wayne Long
Copyright © 2011