11.2.08 | Waking Dreams And Demonic Visitations (in which The Saturnyne meets with a remarkably unwelcome visitor and observes the best ways to deal with such
I lie awake in my bed. Restless thoughts and sorrows furrowing my brow. So tired, i just want to sleep, please god, let me sleep well tonight, just this once? Please? I'll re-consider becoming a Christian again, if you let me sleep.... become a monk, take a vow of chastity, only look at women my own age or not at all, stop coveting all the best chocs for myself, try not to fantasize about sodomy and fist-fucking too much...
(HAh, i can just see some peoples eyes as they read that last bit... please guys, this is just a blog, and some poetic license is allowed, you know... it's not all true, except for when it is... *evil grinnage*
Incidentally, why oh why does good anal sex seem to require so much goddam preparation? HMM? first there's the enema's, then the lubing... really, it just takes ALL the fun out of it... then there's the possibility that your partner might REALLY resent you for not being able to walk properly for days...
So where was i? Oh yes...)
Slowly i become aware that the door leading to my attic has opened and a presence has entered my room.
My thoughts focus immediately into stark terror. This is no ghost. No human, no faerie or mischevious sprite or boggart such as you might find with too frequent regularity in these parts (after all grim Pendle Hill broods nearby, and everyone knows the stories about the witches and covens and dire mischiefs associated with that place). Such things are easily dealt with. No, what has just entered my bedroom is puissant.
I lie motionless in bed as i hear it moving towards me. I am quite terror-stricken and paralyzed with fright. I do what any sane person does in these situations. I pretend to be asleep and hope it goes away.
No good. It has seen me. It knows i'm there. It knows i'm not really asleep. Eyes tight shut, i hear it's footfalls draw nearer to the bed. Then horror- i feel a weight upon the bed next to my body and it's brimstone stench hits my nostrils as it leans over towards my face.
I open my eyes. There is no choice in this. Face horror with eyes closed or open... closed leaves your imagination fertile with horror upon horror. Open at least gives you the power to confront yor assailant. This is my salvation.
But Gods!- What the hell IS this demon? I am staring into the face of an abomination without a face! Black of skin, pitted and scarred like bassalt, and almost totally featureless, saving the barest shapings of a mouth and nose. It's like some ancient sculpture, worn with age and weathering.
It practically leers at me, even without features. but now i see it, and now the realization comes to me that i am dreaming of waking, and i am suddenly master of the situation... just...
I reach out a hand and caress it's face, almost like a lover. The skin is hard as i expected, and very warm, which i hadn't expected.
"Bugger off, you minor fucking demon!"
Realization that what makes this "thing" powerful is fear itself and that it's been playing me for a fool, burns me into a furious wrath. I push it's face backwards out of my dream and through sheer will power alone force myself into waking at the same time.
I awake, cold and staring up towards my bedroom ceiling, and for a moment there, i half fancy i see a reddish outline of something dangerous fading from where it came from.
"Aye- Piss off!"
I focus my cold blue and white hatred and fury on the outline until it is no more. real or imagined.
Bloody stealing into my dreams like that. Bastard.
I go back to sleep. Don't you just hate dreaming that you're awake and dreaming?