Kjar's Mind....Enter at your own risk

Subject: Kjar's Mind....Enter at your own risk Sun Nov 16, 2008 8:18 am

At long last, Kjar had reached a point in his insomnia had pushed his physical limits to the brink, his body at last forcing him to relax. He wasn’t aware of it yet, but he was due for the first bout of flu for the winter, currently he was just worn down like a bad tooth. If he’d had taken a sleeping draught he’d have slept much lighter, he slept motionless, breathing rhythmic, mind drifting through a haze of gray that for some reason seemed determined to grow darker.

In the distance a glow arose, delicate as the coming dawn. It wasn’t a broad light for it seemed more localized to a small area. Drawing nearer it was revealed to be a young boy, splattered with mud, a claymore grasped in his tiny hand. The boy was sobbing with a painful aura, though only choked sounds drew from his actual form. The scene, or the area of light, rotated so that the boys lowered face could be seen. Amongst the streaks of grime, splatters of blood, two perfectly clean trail marked the passage of tears that fell to plink faintly against the blade that was resting over his lap. Something in the darkness held the child’s gaze, wide and glazed with both shock and misery for one so small, he couldn’t be more then five summers old. How tragic it was to see such misery upon a face that should be the apex of innocence. The child gasped with a wailing hitch of breath before releasing a mournful cry of agony.

The very moment the sound reached the edge of the light circle, something snatched the boy from the light and only tormented screams of pain echoed back from the thick darkness. Souls bound for eternal damnation could not match the intensity of this child’s screams in the grasp of darkness, before in a blink of the dreamer’s eye the sound was cut off abruptly.

In the physical world the dream had the Viking frozen at every joint and limb, even his ribs were hard pressed to lift to allow him to draw air. He was struggling to break from the vision though it had a firm tight hold upon the exhausted man. This was why he rarely slept, visions such as these were his punishment for simply having been born. With a choked sound in his voice he was able to at long last yank himself out of the dream. He must be getting better at coping with them, because other then the choked sound, he didn’t leap from the bed and began killing off minions or setting fire to the markets. So much for getting a good night’s sleep. Closing his eyes he fell into a light sleep that allowed him to get some rest but kept his mind from falling back into that dream state.