Ghost-Wraith Dream

So I’m in this room-slash-hall with some friends and a few satel­lite per­son­ages who are real­ly noth­ing more than tech­ni­cal­ly pro­fi­cient warm bod­ies. They are tech­ni­cal­ly pro­fi­cient at what­ev­er I need them to be techini­cal­ly pro­fi­cient at. My friends are around because what we are doing in this room-slash-hall is going through it to reach the oth­er end. We are doing this because it will either save our souls, raise us to a new plane of human con­scious­ness or just because we have to.

The room-slash-hall is dan­ger­ous because of the ghost-wraiths. None of us know what they are, but we know that they are there. We pro­ceed into the room. Sud­den­ly it is just me and a friend from junior high school left. All of the oth­ers are sort of caught behind us, scream­ing mad­ly. The Ghost-wraiths got to them. I go on ahead a lit­tle bit and sud­den­ly I see this tall skin­ny mon­ster with a cylin­dri­cal head so com­plete­ly wrapped in barbed wire that it might very well be his head. This cylin­der of barbed wire is spin­ning coun­ter­clock­wise, quite quick­ly. As for the rest of the Ghost-wraith, it is sheathed in very shiny armor from head to toe, it looks like it is made of met­al but I know that under the armor is a with­er­twist­ed body like drift­wood. The armor is all one piece except for the cod­piece. It sur­pris­es me but I’m not scared of it. As I get clos­er to it I hear this mad­den­ing scream­ing sound com­ing from it. If I’m 6 feet away I hear noth­ing, but if I’m 5 feet away it is the only sound in the world. I real­ize that the Ghost-wraith is actu­al­ly me, and I’m look­ing in a mir­ror that has made me look like a Ghost-wraith. The scream­ing sound is now com­ing from my friend from junior high who thinks I’m going to kill him. He is shoot­ing at me, the bul­lets hit, but since I’m not think­ing about the bul­lets they don’t hurt me, they just ping off of the armor that I’m not real­ly wear­ing. I con­vince my friend that I am me and not the barbed wire prayer wheel spin­ning head­ed armor thing. Every­one else is dead. We con­tin­ue down the hall and around the cor­ner, know­ing that if we think about what we are doing we will be tak­en by the Ghost-wraiths which are real­ly our­selves. We go into this room and I start pluck­ing around on my gui­tar and play­ing this ter­ri­bly sim­ple and slight­ly mourn­ful thing. My friend is assem­bling a sax­o­phone and I real­ize that as I pluck the strings we move clos­er and clos­er to the end of the hall and escape. By now the oth­er pos­si­bil­i­ties have dis­ap­peared and the only rea­son we are doing this is because we want to get out alive. We get to the end and real­ize that we have defeat­ed the Ghost-wraiths and are safe enough, if not per­fect­ly safe. There are still razor sharp things around and we might acci­den­tal­ly set one off. We put­ter around until our teacher comes and leads us to the exit.

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