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Thread: Nightmeres in the playground
- Join Date
- Aug 2012
- Darkest Dorset (UK)
Nightmeres in the playground
I was having this awful nightmare last night. An I have extrapolated a possible RPG plot from it.
Be warned, when I said it was awful I really meant it
Imagine a great rectangular tower. It holds a city state, protecting its people from a bleak desolate wasteland. The people are mostly young, well feed and energetic, patriotic and proud. All of the women I see are pregnant and/or have young children.
They have been at war with enemy towers for longer than anyone can remember but the people are certain that victory is inevitable and just around the corner. They are lead by this larger than life man in his fifties, he is like a bombastic red faced Texan with a ten gallon hat and an enormous mustache.
In the dream I am new here; its like I am the doctor; dropping into an unknown situation unexpected and unannounced, always finding trouble where ever I go and whatever I do. Unable to mind my own business.
Everywhere I go it all just seems so wrong; I feel like I am being watched all the time, that everyone is. People don't seem to know what peace is or why anyone would want it. No one I talk to knows or even cares why the war is being fought and no one can agree on who the enemy is, when I talk about it being over or the time before they look afraid and back away.
As I investigate further I find that the Texan has a private entrance. That he is using it to negotiate with ambassadors of the enemy. I watch as he has a meeting with the leader of one of his enemies and I can tell its not the first. I listen to them barging over "casualty quotas", the annual mortality rate and body retreval. I realize that this is not about peace, nor the niceties of conflict; they are conspire as to how best to perpetuate the war; the minutia of preplanned slaughter. As the enemy leader leaves I am caught, the Texan has me sent to the "rendering plant".
As I am lead down into the bowls of the tower it is dark, wet and filled with an indescribable stench. The final doorway opens to a scene from Dantes inferno. A massive chamber, the wall are made from living flesh and there are tubes and mouths dotted here, there and everywhere. The walls are lined with galleys and on the far wall I see white armored guards with helmets and gas masks herding lines of hollowed eyed emaciated people. I some how know that these are not just criminals but POWs, political prisoners and the inconvenient. The flour of the pit is this massive pile of human bodies in a lake of blood and filth; the dead and the near dead, ours and theirs all heaped up like so much refuse.
I hear an alarm go off and I know it means death. I watch a great maw in the roof of the chamber begins to open; I run, the guards let me. I find and force my way through this membranous sphincter into a living corridor. I Hear an unearthly moaning behind me and I look over my shoulder though the transparent skin of the door. The mouth is emitting a cloud of green gas; the exposed flesh of anyone unprotected it touched begins to glow a sickly swirling light, all of the prisoners and bodies melt, filling the lake. A row of mouths open up at the base of the wall and with a disgusting slurping sound begin to drain the vile sludge.
I realize in horror that this is the entire point of the war; all of that endless, mindless slaughter nothing more that to provide gist for the mill. I feel physically sick, I want to stick my fingers down my throat and vomit up everything I have eaten since I got here.
Some one wants to use this concept, fine. I just need to get this out of my head and its too good to waste.
Vivid nightmares are a source of inspiration for all kinds of truly twisted concepts. Anyone else had any good ones I lately or am I the only one who would dream up this kind of thing?
- Join Date
- Jun 2012
Re: Nightmeres in the playground
A month or two ago, I started reading the works of H.P. Lovecraft. I was astonished by what he have seen in dreams, and fascinated by his exploits in nightmares. I feel as though I shall constantly envy those with vivid dreams, but a few weeks ago I dreamt I saw a classmate speaking, muffled by my mental haze. I could only get one fragment of speech that lasted until I awoke.
"...Urral, god of cancer..."
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