#227
There are so many versions of some stories.
Especially when a prospective to the title of The Pledge is
screwing with reality in Utah and not even knowing she is doing so.
The Dream Trail is the parcel of imaginings, the domicile of
sleepy time.
A young mind unknown to the part of her mind that lets her
know that her mind is doing stuff is trying to change the way things happen.
But she isn’t there yet and thus here it goes.
The sort of power she has is dangerous and could have saved
someone very brave but alas that isn’t to be here.
The individual this dream is happening to will never know
the name of the young lady who tried to rescue her, even while she didn’t know
she was doing so.
The dream was crushed… it was broken, and within the dream
were images on shards of glass; which were lining the floor in a pattern like a
shattered window massacre.
In this place hot in a nothingness of greying one spirit found
herself beaten and defeated.
This place was part of what the woman called her life and
her home.
This is an ending.
Little images on the floor like television promos featuring
moments from birth to death.
The trap that had been sprung was laid out within the mind
of a refugee who took his own life during the living of the dream. The in flesh
person was pushed to that point from a bargain waged with a half demon called
The Weapon. An innocent was sacrificed so a trap by forces of great power and
malevolence could be sprung attacking a spirit who stood up for those in need
of some sort of justice.
She could barely breathe. Moving at all is a struggle.
Getting up to be situated on her knees took every ounce of strength she had
remaining. Her gasps keeping her chest heaving in and out and her eyes were cast
down looking upon her own blood stained hands caused each moment of life to
sound out like perpetual discomfort.
Her clothes were shredded, blood soaked and damaged like her
body. Once she traveled The Dream Trail famously dressed in what some would
call her costume. She saw it as her uniform of service. She always wore those
red boots that came from a dream about the old west and those black leather
overalls she got from the dreams of a lustful Goth boy in Winnipeg. She was an
image to behold if there ever was one to fit that phrase.
Out from within the shattered dream came the scavengers of
The Dream Trail, The Burial. The peering white of the exhausted trance was
split into sharp cuts for them to pass through.
The Burial are a one-conciseness being who have survived
within thousands of bodies created from the leftover substances of forgotten
dreams.
On average The Burial stand at around five feet in height
with dark red skin, two legs, and they have one arm that reaches out from the
side of their bodies. Their hands have huge claws with fingers that can grow at
will to unimaginable lengths.
A flood of them came out from the broken cracks of The Dream
Trail; which is where they live within to begin animalistic movements to circle
her. She had not even noticed them when as one they stood over her dripping an
oozing green liquid from their eyes.
She was still in another place as one of The Burial began to
speak in an almost imploded speech volume, ‘We finally have you. After so many
life times we get to feed on your spirit.’
Another of The Burial moves one of its long fingernails down
her back though she does not move and it kept cutting until it was cutting deep
enough to touch her spine. It turns one of its fingernails chipping a little at
one of the bones of her spin, ‘You stood up for the flesh ones against The Spiders.
That was foolish.’
A whisper comes from her mouth but it almost sounded more
like it was coming from above, ‘I may… this da… but 8 more shall follow me…
Mary’s hear my words.’
Fingers grow, fingernails reach out, and mouths open ready
to eat.
She was called Mash. Once she stood in front of a throne as
a noble Sovereign from an ancient planet called Headlingsi. A warrior who led
her armies to many victories and whose people died out so long ago that they
are gone even to the memories of the oldest of creations races. She was not
known to many to be The Dream Healer and one day will be forgotten in total but
her life was with purpose and the future will tell that, in time…
Check out all other
Tin Universe releases at the below places:
SMASHWORDS:
Also can be found in Barnes&Noble Nook Store, iTunes,
and many more places to buy ebooks.
The sale of this book without its cover….well, is, sort of,
impossible since it really doesn’t have a cover but let us go through the legal
spray out anyways. If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be
aware that it was reported to the publisher as “unsold and destroyed.” Hands up
to you who have books like this in your collection? Now that I put my hand down
we can continue with the credits and copyright and legal and stuff that people
just don’t ever pay attention to unless it is pumping their own horn.
An Original Publication of System* Publishing,
a Tin Universe book published by System*Publishing, a
division of System*Productions, Melbourne, Florida. This book is a
work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the
author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events
or locales or persons, living or dead or living dead, is entirely and very much
so in the coincidental.
Smashwords Edition Copyright © 2015, Brian
C. Williams, System*Productions. Tin Universe Daily, and
all related titles, characters, and elements are trademarks of System*Productions.
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions
thereof in any form whatsoever. While unauthorized reproduction is sometimes
needed, please remember us writers types are for the most part a poor lot just
in search of a ways to tell our stories and enough money to add to our Doctor
Who collections….well, at least that fits me. For more information on Tin Universe Daily, the artists who
contributed to this book, and Tin Universe contact System*Productions at
hangofwednesday@gmail.com
Written by Brian C. Williams
Edited by Brian
C. Williams
Any Additional
Photography by Stainless Photography
Cover Digital Work by 74 Images
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