Dark Dreams

Dark Liquid dreamt of the past. He saw his wife, writing her latest attempt at a novel. He saw the door splinter on it's hinges as the UK LitPol burst in. He saw broken glass as he dived out of the window. He saw the ground rushing up to meet him and heard the screams behind him. He saw blackness, an unending pit into which he was falling forever, nothing for company but his own guilt. He'd left her behind.

He'd tried to justify it, there hadn't been time, the resistance couldn't lose them both, but each attempt felt hollow, a filthy lie that insulted her memory. He wanted to believe she was still alive, certainly he'd never had any proof one way or the other, but he had to admit to himself that he'd not looked that hard for proof of her death, he couldn't bare to cast away that last glimmer of hope. Not knowing was easier, the cowards way out of dealing with what he had done.

Suddenly, he was in a field, DruidX, his wife, was there with him. She was wearing the uniform of a LitPol officer, a gun trained between his eyes.

She spoke, venom on her tongue and hatred in her eyes. "These times I've spent, I've realized I'm going to shoot through and leave you."

"Babe, please don't. I'm sorry, I never wanted to leave you. Please, don't join them, don't do this, anything but that."

"The things, you say, your purple prose just gives you away, the things... you say" She replied, disgusted.

"Please, I love you!"

She rolled her eyes and sneered.

"You're unbelievable!"

The sound of gunfire filled the air.

Dark was jolted from unconsciousness by the shock and promptly threw up next to himself when the pain shot back up his leg.

He felt cold and deathly sick, the words from the dream still lingering in his thoughts, he could almost hear them now.

The wind blew and as it did it brought with it more words from his dream. Confused, he tried to focus. The words, they were different, they were real. This was a song, someone was playing a song!

"HEEEEELP!" he yelled. "I'm over here!"

He propped himself up, feeling another surge of nausea as the bones in his leg ground together and raised up an arm waving it. He hoped whoever would notice. His message must have gotten through, but to whom?

Could this be a trap? Dark Liquid didn't know and at this point, he didn't care. He didn't want to die out here, all alone. Not now, not like this.

He thought he saw a shape rising out over the tall grass but by then darkness had reclaimed him, bringing him back to his dark dreams.

The End

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