Dream: Moonlight Monastery

Oh, I haven't posted Moonlight Monastery? Well, I might as well share it now.

Moonlight Monastery

Today is Sunday, May 7, 2023. I had a dream last night.

I was in a massive multi-story building with a tile floor. The event appears to be a family reunion. I go behind a counter in what looks to be a kitchen or dining area. A woman, she must be one of my aunts, she distributes snacks and desserts to the kids. I get in line and receive the treats. I help my little sisters get in line to receive treats as well.

I leave everyone to go upstairs to a carpeted area. There are replicas of family houses open like doll houses. There are gray unpainted figurines of the family members gathered by the houses. There is a black basketball-sized disc with white and red speckled pattern in the middle of the disc. It’s behind the glass of a display cabinet. I open the cabinet and take the disc off its stand. It seems to change in shape everytime I look away from it, becoming a cube, a pyramid, or a sphere, and back into a disc. The red and white speckled pattern becomes knobs, buttons, levers, and switches. It’s an intricate device that can be activated, but I’ve no idea what it does or how to use it. I hold onto it. It calls to me. I must keep it with me.

The rest of the kids follow me to this carpeted room. The building is crowded with other kids around my age of 8 to 12 years old. In the kitchen, there is a glass wall. Behind the glass wall is a room full of plastic purple balls of the size and shape of the balls in a ball-pit. The kids were posting their guesses as to how many balls were behind the glass. The massive glass wall. I don’t know if I know numbers big enough to describe the amount of balls. So I guessed that there were 28 balls and posted my guess onto the glass. The black disc with the red and white speckled pattern becomes warm and vibrates in my hands.

News report. It’s an incredibly important message that interrupts the Olympics. A reporter emphatically calls out that a little kid from Georgia has guessed the correct number of balls in a room-sized container. A photo of my paper taped to the glass appears on screen. It’s the number 28 written in massive font with my name tiny and in the corner. The screen cuts to rulers of different countries and national organizations congratulating me on my accomplishment. The US President, the King of England, the Pope, etc.

An international conference between ambassadors from all over the world has come to a decision on how to reward me for my outstanding achievement. The gift is a surprise. They’ve  sent a briefcase to an olympic swimming pool. The briefcase floats. I will need to swim out into the water to collect my prize. It is certainly an over-the-top way of giving a gift, but such theatrics or only natural given the the greatness of the feat that I accomplished.

So that’s what I do. I get into my car–I bring the strange disc with me, of course. I drive to the Olympic Swimming pool. However, there is construction and parades throughout downtown, and I’m unfamiliar with the area. I’m constantly getting turned around with all of the one-way streets. I dodge tens of scattered jay-walking pedestrians. Terrible fear overwhelms me. I spend hours lost in traffic. Rerouting past streets blocked off by construction and countless detours that ultimately lead nowhere. The sun begins to set. I stop my car on the side of the road just outside the metropolitan area. It is very much rural and country on the outskirts a few blocks away from the most dense skyscraper-infested area of the concrete jungle.

I find my grandparents raking leaves on the side of the road. There is only one tree within line of sight, but this one tree has no leaves. My understanding of the situation is that this tree has shed all its leaves, which is why the ground is buried in a layer of leaves multiple feet tall. I ask them for directions and they tell me that underneath these leaves is a road that leads directly to the Olympic Swimming pool. I can’t see anything but leaves on the ground, so I leave my car to help them rake leaves. But the sun has now set and I can hardly see anything. The only light comes from my black disc. It glows, the light of which changes from red to white to red repeatedly. The other source of light is the flashlights of the others helping to rake the leaves. I didn’t see these other rakers arrive because it was so dark. And I don’t even see them all because only some of them are wearing headlamps.

I see a wooden picket fence that is 7 feet tall. I try to climb the fence to see what is on the other side. I run up to the fence and push off its surface to jump upwards. I am able to glance at the otherside. I see it goes down hill like a trench and then back up hill where a similar fence runs parallel atop the other hill. I also see that none of the fences run forever. I can go around the fences. So that’s what I do.

I reach the area behind the fence by walking around the fence. There are almost no leaves past this fence but there are fallen branches. I decide to pick them up. But as I am picking up branches, I realize I am alone on this side of the fence. Everyone else is on the other side of the fence raking leaves. I don’t have a lightsource with me. I can hardly see the sticks. No flashlights light my way, only my disc. I become increasingly paranoid and anxious. The hill is very steep. I fear that I will lose my footing and roll down the hill. I fear that something is watching me. That something is approaching me. I look around but see nothing in the darkness. I didn’t tell anyone that I had gone to the other side of the fence. No one will know where to look if I go missing. No one knows to look for me if I don’t return shortly. I panic. Fear wells up in my chest until I faint. I fall to the ground. I can’t move. My body becomes rigid and stiff–paralyzed. I begin rolling down the hill. I lose consciousness before I roll more than a few feet.

I wake up in a bed in a large atrium. Red carpeted floor. The room is not square in shape. It is more like an asterisk. A circular saw blade of alcoves. Each alcove holds a massive bed, fancy and comfortable. TVs hang from the ceiling and walls. In the center of the atrium, dark-red lounge chairs that can spin are arranged in a circle. There are a few other people in the same bed as me because of the massive size of the bed. They want to watch a movie on one of the televisions, but I want to play a video game. So I use a different television from everyone else and turn off the sound. I am told that it is time for bed and that we need to sleep. I am also told that this atrium belongs to Elvis Presely and that he would sleep in one of the beds and sit in one of the chairs. Which bed and which chair? No one could remember.

I begin the video game on a TV next to the TV that is playing a movie. I use the disc as a game controller. The video game is much like a game from the Command & Conquer series. However, it also has a massive robot that you start off with such as in Zero-K and Supreme Commander. Depending on which faction you choose, you get a different robot to start with. There are four factions. Red Square was a boxy fire-themed furnace robot. Roughly humanoid in that it had two arms and two legs. But its head was a featureless cube. And its torso was an open furnace that constantly exhumed smoke and flame as it burned coal and wood. This robot appeared to be related to Soviet Russia.

Green Crescent that opens upwards has a robot insect, a beetle, as its commander unit. I preferred this faction over the other factions. This appeared to be an Islamic faction. I fought against Red Square’s boxy furnace robots, which is why of the four factions, I am most familiar with the beetle faction and the boxy furnace faction. There was a Blue Star. It was the standard USA faction. Its commander unit was a massive tank that could call down artillery and air strikes. Yellow Triangle. This one had an aircraft that looked more like a crab than a plane. It had multiple legs and no visible wings. These “legs” would spin like helicopter propellers while it was flying but skitter on the ground when it was on land. The crab-like claws could smash things and cut them in pieces while on-ground but also fire rockets while it was in the air. This seemed related to Japan.

[As far as I know, this game doesn’t exist in real life; but there are several very similar games that this dream was based on.]

I start the game. I begin with my commander unit, the beetle, in the same general area as everyone else I am playing with online. They are all sorts of factions. What is supposed to happen is that we all scatter and create our bases to make infantry troops, mechanical troops, and aircraft troops. Instead, since every commander unit spawned within line of sight of each other, they all immediately attack each other. I realize that I am doomed because the beetle is the worst commander in combat but is particularly useful in construction. Red Sqaure, the Russian boxy humanoid furnace chases after me, hurling fiery hailstones at me.

I am quickly defeated by the Red Square faction. I give up on the game and decide to go to sleep in the bed like I was told to do. When I wake up, I leave the atrium to find an absolutely massive room that holds an indoors swimming pool, an Olympic Swimming pool. It is, in fact, the swimming pool where the briefcase is floating in the water. My prize. I leap into the water and speed towards the case. Stroke after stroke, it’s called a crawl, but I’m going faster than I would on land. Everything else melts away as I grab hold of the briefcase and kick on my back towards dry ground. I reach the edge of the pool and set my briefcase on the ground. I stay in the water and open the case. I am greeted with a red glowing engraving on the inside of the lid that displays a red shield and crown with two crossed swords. A sort of coat of arms, heraldic icon, or royal crest. “Due to your heroic deeds, you are hereby invited to join the Knights Templar. Your induction into our honorable organization is ready and prepared. To complete your initiation, all you must do is sign here that you wish to join the Knights Templar.” Obviously, I accept. I immediately pick up the red pen and sign the inside of the briefcase with my name. Upon lifting the pen from the surface, having finished my signature, the red and white speckled pattern on my disc rearranges itself to portray the red shield and crown with two crossed swords that I saw in the briefcase. I crawl up onto the floor and see there is a young man standing by the water of the pool. I immediately recognize him as important and famous, but I can’t remember his name or what he is famous for. I feel too embarrassed to ask him where I know him from, so I ignore him.

I return to my car. I bring the briefcase and disc with me. However, as I am driving, I get the strange feeling that I am being followed. The city is not as impossibly difficult to navigate as it was before, so I am able to pass through without trouble; but that same paranoia, that same anxiety I felt on the hill past the fence–I feel the same fear now as I am driving. But it is morning. The Sun is rising. There aren’t very many people out. I would see if anything was coming for me. I can’t fathom why I am so scared.

I slow down as I see the building where my family reunion is taking place. I recognize the cars, trucks, and miniature buses in the driveways and streets. However, a single sleek black car with extremely tinted windows and a short profile stands out as unfamiliar. Unlike the other cars, this one is sparklingly clean. And a man and a woman are standing next to the car. I don’t know them. They are dressed in white shirts, black suits, black slacks, black shoes, and wear sunglasses. They hold an extremely serious expression on their faces. They approach me as I park my car. I exit my car, briefcase and disc in hand.

“Hello.” I say congenially, “Can I help you?”

“You came within close proximity to Sir Edwin at the Olympic Pool, did you not?” The woman asks.

I remember with a tinge of embarrassment that the famous person that I couldn’t quite remember any details about was indeed Sir Edwin. He’s a knight but not of the Knights Templar. I don’t remember which order he belongs to.

“Ah that’s right. I did.” I say, “I didn’t bother him, did I?”

“Sir Edwin has an extremely dangerous and contagious disease.” The woman says, “You must come with us.”

“Woah, woah, woah. Slow down.” I say, “He’s sick? What happened?”

“He’s been identified as a subject of a deadly pathogen, but I can’t tell you details. That’s classified information.” The woman says, “You’ve been exposed to the disease. You must come with us for screening and quarantine.”

“Um, okay. Just, let me tell my family first.” I say, “We’re having a family reunion. I don’t want them to worry about me disappearing.”

“No!” The man says firmly.

“No?” I ask, “What do you mean, “No?” I have to tell my family where I’m going and what’s going on.”

“This is a highly delicate and volatile situation.” The woman says, “You must come with us immediately. The less your family knows, the less danger they’ll be in.”

“What? If I just leave them without telling them, they’ll think I’ve gone missing and call the police.” I say, “I have to tell them something. It doesn’t even have to be the truth.”

“No.” The man says again,although not as aggressively.

I stare at the man in disbelief. How can he be so unreasonable?

“I’m sorry, but it’s too dangerous.” The woman says, “Telling them anything at this stage, even fabrications, could put them at risk. They’ll be worried but at least they’ll be safe.”

I’m tempted to refuse to cooperate. To ignore their advice and tell my family what’s going on. But I don’t have it in me to disobey such authoritative figures. They’re ruthlessly strict on this matter, but if it’s for my family’s protection, I should do as they say.

I get in the backseat of the car. There is a divider between the front seats and the back seat. I cannot see through this divider. And the windows to the back seats aren’t just tinted, they’re literally painted black. If it weren’t for a light on the ceiling, I would be in utter darkness.

After driving for what seemed like hours, the car stops and the doors open. It’s night time and there are no lights except for the moon. I hide my glowing disc under my shirt. I don’t think it wise to draw attention to it. They lead me inside a building with unpainted brick walls. The interior is also brick, which is odd. I was expecting plaster. Near the entrance inside, there is a group of black-robed monks ready to meet me. The authorities hand me off to the monks, who lead me through a series of hallways in pitch darkness. I found it odd that they didn’t use flashlights. They really must know their way around this place.

Finally, I see light in the distance. The hallway cuts through an endless passageway with an olympic swimming pool separating one side from the other. There are stone bridges placed intermittently over the pool. The light that I had seen was the moonlight shining down through grates in the ceiling.

I see Sir Edwin, who I had previously seen by the olympic swimming pool where I got my briefcase. He is standing by the opposite end of the water from me. The monks lead me to a bridge to cross the gap. They lead me next to him and tell me to wait there.

“Wait a second. I was told Sir Edwin is contagious.” I whisper to the monks so as not to offend Sir Edwin, “I don’t think I should be near him.”

The monks ignore me and continue to walk away. I decide to keep my distance from Sir Edwin and face away from him. I hear grunts of pain coming from an alcove between me and Sir Edwin. I glance through the doorway to see an old man, bald and bloated, and bound with strips of white cloth to a chair. He is thrashing about, but the chair is bolted to the floor so it won’t fall over. I gasp.

“What’s wrong with him?” I ask aloud but to no one since the only one near me is Sir Edwin, who I don’t expect to know the answer, “Does he need help?”

Sir Edwin turns to me. He is dressed in a nice blue uniform, adorned with medals from his time in battle. He’s a veteran. “That is Oné. His mind has succumbed to the disease.” Sir Edwin says, “He serves as a reminder of what is to happen to us if we do not follow the monks’ instructions.”

“But I’m not sick.” I say, “By staying here, I’m only exposing myself to the pathogen.”

“The monks told me that Oné thought the same. He believed he was healthy as can be.” Sir Edwin says, “And because he didn’t think he was sick, he didn’t accept the monks’ help.”

I remain silent. I am unsure what to think. It seems counterintuitive to stand here beside Sir Edwin, but the monk must know what is best for me. So I need to obey them if I don’t want to end up like Oné.

The monks do not give me further instruction. It feels like days past, but it must have only been hours because moonlight beams down through the grates in the ceiling, not sunlight. I feel myself fall asleep from fatigue. I have nowhere to use the bathroom, so I treat the water as a toilet. To my left and my right, the olympic swimming pool continues on forever with pathways on either side, connected by the occasional bridge.I am so very hungry and thirsty. I can’t take it anymore. Sir Edwin is laying against the brick wall, asleep. I cannot stand it anymore. I need to find the monks. They must have forgotten about us. I walk the path along trite water on my left. I trust that I can follow the water back to Sir Edwin when I am ready to return. I continue walking for several minutes. Sometimes, I think I hear the rumble of cars roaring past above me through the grates on the ceiling.

I glance at the alcoves and hallways in the wall as I pass. There are several furnished rooms that are completely empty. I wish Sir Edwin and I stayed in one of these more comfortable rooms than on the bricks beside the neverending olympic pool. Finally, I peek into an alcove to find a dining room that isn’t completely empty. This room is furnished with apples and bread rolls that would normally accompany a main course. But I am so hungry. I chow through several apples and bread rolls. After I am full, I take what remains of the apples and add them to the basket of rolls. Then I bring the basket with me as I follow the water back to Sir Edwin.

I return to find Sir Edwin is still asleep. I’ll offer him bread and apples once he wakes. A few minutes pass. I hear footsteps echoing down the passageway. A monk is back robes with swirling purple stripes. Something seems off about this monk but I just can’t put my finger on what exactly seems odd about this person. His skin is mottled red and black marble and wicked horns protrude from his head.

“Sir Edwin, wake up. Your health has suffered.” The strange monk says, “You must come with me for a medical procedure. It is your last chance for survival.” Sir Edwin groggily gets to his feet.

“W-what? Medical procedure?” Sir Edwin asks, “Are you sure, Brother Loelle? I’m not… I feel fine.”

“You may not feel it, but you are close to losing your mind.” The monk says, “Come with me for a medical procedure and you might not end up like Oné.”

Sir Edwin follows the monk. I don’t know where they go. I grip the disc tightly. I’m going to escape. This isolation didn’t help Sir Edwin, so I’m sure not gonna stay and become the next to succumb to disease. I cross the bridge and try to retrace my steps to leave the monastery. I cross the bridge to a dark hallway of utter darkness.

I can’t see in this maze. I raise my disc, using its red and white light to guide me. I don’t know where to go, per say, but I at least won’t run into walls. I hear someone gasp and a hooded figure scurries past a corner. I ignore them. I need to find my way out. A monk approaches me from the shadows. “Where are you going? You must stay here so we can help you.” The monk says, “Did you see that man that was tied up? He refused our help and succumbed to the disease.”

“I already know about Oné.” I say, “That’s why I’m leaving. I don’t want to end up like him.”

“No, no. You misunderstand.” The monk protests, “If you leave, you will end up exactly like him. He left, and this is the result.”

“Yeah, you kidnapped him. That’s why he’s tied up.” I say, “But I won’t be so easy to catch.”

“Please don’t try to leave. I’ll have to call security if you do.” The monk says, “You’re a walking biohazard.”

“And yet none of you wear any protective clothing. No gloves. No masks. Nothing but plain robes.” I say, “You’re not worried about catching the disease from me, so it must not be serious.”

“No, we’ve been immunized. We’ve already caught it and overcame–” The monk begins to say. I push him up against the wall. “Save your breath.” I say, threateningly, “Ugh. I’d like you a lot more if you took a vow of silence.”

“Help! Help! Security!” The monk screams, “A patient is threatening me and trying to escape.”

The ground begins to shake with the monstrous rumble of footsteps. It’s like an army is approaching in multitude. I drop the monk and begin running through the halls. I don’t get far before the man and woman in suit coats and sunglasses block my path. “We took you to the monks so you could be cured.” The woman says, “But if you’re not willing to cooperate, there are other ways to prevent you from spreading the infection.” The man by her side reaches into his suit coat and pulls out a black handgun.

“Steady now, partner.” The woman says, “Let’s give him one more chance to obey.”

They dare threaten to kill me? Burning red hot anger floods through my veins. I raise the disc. It becomes puddy in my hands, morphing into a large metal shield with a longsword in its sheath fastened to the shield’s arm strap. The shield bears the symbol of the Knights Templar, a red shield and crown with two crossed swords. In one fluid motion, I draw the blade and thrust the shield in front of my face. A deafening bang as my shield blocks a bullet. I lower the shield from my face and thrust forwards with my sword. But the authorities look… different. “Oh, you took off your glasses.” I say, “It’s odd to see you without them on.” Their charred black bony hide with no clothes to speak of. Antlers from their head, hooves for their feet. Fur on their legs. Bony spines in their arms. The handgun is gone, but they wield chitinous black spears wrapped in snake-like obsidian vines. Fiery pits instead of eyes had been hidden behind their sunglasses. So blazingly bright and searing hot that it seems the sunglasses were not to keep the sun from their eyes but to keep their eyes from everyone else.

They flap their bat-like wings, rising into the air. They stab me with their prehensile tails, thin like a mouse’s, but with spade-tipped ends. I grunt in pain, but slash upwards with my blade. A sudden flap of their wings throws them up out of my reach. They slowly and gently descend face-first towards me with their spears outstretched and ready to strike. I swing my blade in an arc, slamming both of my attackers into the wall. They are still alive and stirring, but I don’t need to kill them. I need to escape. I break off into a sprint.

Everything in my vision becomes Two-Dimensional. It’s like playing the old Doom games. They are meant to be 3-D creatures but they look like cardboard cut-outs. I continue to fight off monks pursuing me. I wander through the maze for what feels like forever. However, I eventually find myself in a room with a set of wooden stairs leading upwards and two rows of three pillars each throughout the room. The monks are coming after me with swords and staves.

“What have you done? You’ve led them here?” A voice cries out from the darkness, “Just when I thought I was gonna get away, you show up with an army after you.”

My I raise my shield, its light shining in front of me. A man with an orange goatee, mustache, and hair dressed in medieval red leather and a french painter’s cap. A feather in his cap. A rapier in his hand. Brown shoes made of strung-together animal skins. I feel terrible for preventing another patient from getting away. So I turn to face the monks. “Don’t worry, friend. You can run.” I say, “I’ll hold them off.”

[Disclaimer: My words will never do the battle scenes from dreams the justice they deserve]

There are about 20 of them filing in through a narrow corridor. Thus I only have to deal with about four of them at a time. I run up and slam one to the side, while blocking the quarterstaff of a monk on my left with my shield. I push him into the other monks, causing them to stumble backwards, I take advantage of their uneven footing and swing my blade wildly, cutting them down like a sickle to the wheat. My blade cleaves through bone and flesh, twisting the pommel to ensure their death.

I feel like a god among men, striking them down, they fall before me. But I can’t take them all out, there are just too many. Standing up from the ground, the monk pulls out a knife. Heading straight for my gut, I’ve no time to react. Then it clangs to the ground, his hand has been slapped. A rapier’s blade through his wrist to his neck.

“You didn’t think I was gonna let you have all the fun, did you?” The swashbuckling swordsman that looks like he’s one of the three musketeers says, “I can deal with the humans, it’s the monsters I’m worried about.”

“Monsters?” I ask, relieving another monk of his shoulder. Right on cue, the wall behind us explodes. Visual changes from old shooter game graphics to real-life visuals. The jet engines roar as the 10-foot tall metal warrior rockets through the air. For wings, it has two giant steel shields that don’t flap but have jet propulsion in these shields. The creature is certainly too big to be human. No skin shows under its medieval metal suit of armor. But it doesn’t carry a sword, it carries a gatling gun with oversized barrels. It doesn’t spit bullets, it fires a barrage of missiles.

The night sky ahead shows that there is nothing for miles all around. A flat plain of white… sand? It’s not quite sand. Is it dirt? Is there even such a thing as white dirt? The moonlight shines down ever so large now. No trees, buildings, or roads as far as the eye can see. There is nothing to block my view of the horizon. The moon is so bright and so big. I can’t make out very many features of the silhouetted monster hovering above us.

I understand what my fellow patient means when he says he can’t take on a “monster.” I feel I should surrender. If I was on my own, I would. But the swarming rockets break holes open in the walls of this building far to the right and left. More patients flee from the monastery on all sides. I would have surrendered. Instead, I lift my shield and press my sword against the shield. They melt and morph in my hands. The blade becomes the barrel to an automatic rifle, the shield a large circular magazine.  I yank a handle that’s connected to a long cord like the engine starter of a lawnmower. Much like a lawnmower, the automatic rifle in my hands begins kicking and the motor roars.

I point my firearm at the flying metal monster. The stream of bullets clatter off the armor plated surface. My enemy revs its gatling missile launcher. I target the spinning barrels of the enemy’s weapon. Bang. The monster attempts to fire rockets from its gun. It explodes. A fiery ball of shrapnel crashes to the ground. The ten patients spreading out from the monastery. Several of them have weapons. Swords and staves likely taken from monks pursuing them. They gather together now that  the flying creature  has fallen. The Monk come after us but the patients hold them off with an unexpected martial technique. It strikes me as odd that every single patient excels as a fighter. The monks flee in fear. They fall before me, my fully automatic assault rifle mowing them down. They flee back to the monastery.

The patients cheer. We look up at the sky. The moon is shining down on us. The monastery is mostly rubble now. That terrible monster’s attacks. It lasted for less than a minute, but the building has mostly collapsed. We discuss our next course of action with each other. We have no real idea of where we are or how to escape. However, I notice that a particular mound of rubble glows with a white pearl buried beneath the crumpled bricks. I dig through the debris and pull out the precious stone. My fellow patients, all dressed in various medieval apparel and armor, some wielding medieval weapons while others hold firearms. Odd. Did they look like that before?

The pearl flashes the area with blinding light and everything goes white. Everything is white but I feel myself falling. I orient myself to face downwards to see what I’m falling towards. A black speck. A black speck that slowly grows in size and becomes more detailed. A mountain jutting up from the clouds. There are a few wooden cabins we could take refuge in. The mountain grows larger as we fall towards it. We? I look around. I don’t see anyone else with me. I had expected the others to come with me. I don’t even remember how I got here. The ground is rapidly approaching. I begin to fear the impact. Man can’t survive a fall from this height. I fumble with my disc in my hand (it has returned to disc form and is no longer a gun). It morphs into several different types of objects. A coil of rope with a grappling hook at the end. Unhelpful. An inflatable raft that’s circular in shape with a radius of about 3 feet. I shake my head. This is insufficient to cushion my fall. It billows into a parachute. I can feel the drag of my parachute slowing my descent, but it doesn’t look like I’m going any slower. I crash into thick snow on the mountain and roll down a slight slope for a few feet before the friction stops me.

This seems like a safe place to escape from the monks. There is just one problem–I’m the only one here. None of the other escaped patients could get here. My parachute returns to being a disc. A hole opens in the middle of the disc. I reach my hand in and pull out an hourglass. I set the hourglass on the ground in the snow. I’m not exactly sure what my intention was. The world goes white.

The pearl drops from my hands. I scramble through the rubble to find it again. The other escaped patients ask me what I’m doing. I tell them that I’ve found a way to escape. I just need to find somewhere safe and easy to access. I lift the pearl from the ground. The world goes white.

Then it goes black. I lift my disc, spraying red and white light on the cavern walls.
I don’t know where I am, which means this place is also safe from the monks. However, it has the same problem as the mountain. There must be some way to bring everyone with me. A hole opens up in my disc and I pull out an hourglass. I set it on the ground. It goes white again.

“Guys, come here!” I say to my fellow escapees, “I can get us out of here. Everyone, gather in a circle and put your hand in the center.” They follow my instructions and we are soon in position. I place the pearl in the center of their hands. Everything fades to white. I wake up in an apartment with the rest of the escapees. I look out the window. It’s still night time, but the city is littered with streetlights and the headlights from cars, and traffic lights. They are all here with me. We celebrate for about ten minutes until we feel it again–the growing dread. Paranoia creeps up on us. We close the window blinds but also peek out those windows for anything suspicious.

That’s when I have visions. I see the mountain I had visited. Three people dressed in medieval armor. One has a metal breastplate, another has a chain cuirass, another has a studded leather shirt. They wield swords and axes and wield shields. They are arranged in a line. The one on the right is a woman that is overly tall and bulky, about 7-feet tall with golden curls of hair spread four feet down her back and side.  The one in the middle is a short man with a bowler cut of brown hair. On the left is another man, this one has long curls like the woman and is taller than average although not as colossal as the woman.

“Where are the others?” The man on the left asks, “This is the dropzone, is it not?” The whistling wind makes it hard to hear.  The snow blowing in the wind makes it difficult to see far as well. And the three warriors are not dressed for cold weather. They don’t seem to mind the subzero temperatures. The snow ceases to drop. The bright sun rises. The wind stops blowing. But I still hear it whistling. The three warriors turn their heads looking for the sound, confused as I am. Then I see her, hovering in the air, about three drones whirling beside her. The drones look like manhacks from Half-Life 2. Spinning blades both propel it into the air and threaten to rip apart anything that gets close. As for the woman flying in the air. My immediate thought when I see her is “valkyrie.” Much like the flying monster from before but far more human. Metal armor, but it doesn’t cover her entire body as it did the previous monster. For example, her head isn't hidden in a helmet. I can see that she has long black hair and glowing yellow eyes. She has wings, but they are made of metal. They don’t flap but they can fold. They propel her with fans churning from inside the wings.

“Only three of you? How disappointing. Let’s make things interesting, “The valkyrie says without moving her lips, “How about you discuss amongst yourselves which two among you shall die and which one of you I shall spare? You have two minutes to decide.”

The three warriors are shocked. What sick psychopath forces their victims to choose who lives and dies? Without a word, they look into eachothers’ eyes and nod. They refuse to be a part of the valkyrie’s game.

“Well? The timer’s ticking.” The valkyrie says, “You might want to talk to each other to come to a consensus.”

The stalwart warriors stay stoically silent. The valkyrie frowns in displeasure. “Time’s up.” The valkyrie says, “Who will I spare?”

No response.

“No one?” The valkyrie asks, “Very well, if that’s what you wish, I will spare no one.”

She holds her right hand open, arm outstretched. The three drones slam together in front of her hand, fusing into a handgun with spinning rotary blades on either side of the firearm. The valkyrie grabs hold of the gun and amazingly avoids getting cut. She punches the handgun into the neck of the warrior on the left, blades ripping through his neck. The man in the middle grabs her arms, trying to wrench the gun from her grasp, but she points the firearm and fires, blasting his head off. Then the valkyrie swings the handgun’s spinning blades at the warrior on the right. The valkyrie rips through the warrior on the right with a flurry of strikes. The illusion falls, revealing that the warrior on the right is much shorter and thinner than she appeared to be. The valkyrie’s attacks, which had cut through the illusion’s neck, had entirely missed the real deal. The warrior slams a handaxe into the valkyrie’s arm, but the valkyrie saws through the warrior’s neck. Her head falls to the ground. The wounds on her neck and head are closed but she is still decapitated. No blood. No gore. But she is dead nonetheless.

The valkyrie growls in anger. They hadn’t put up much of a fight. The valkyrie stomps the ground with fury, incinerating the snow around her. She looks down at something shiny and small on the ground. My vision of the mountain ends. I feel them coming for us. My paranoia grows unbearable. I keep my distance from the other escapees, and they do the same. We all eye each other suspiciously. Then we feel the tremors.

My sight goes black as I see a vision of the caverns. No one there has a light source, but I know that some warriors must have arrived here. I hear them scream in pain and terror as metal scrapes against metal. They’re dying, but I can’t see anything. My vision ends.

The vision ends. I know that we’re next. A cacophony of screams. Cracks form, spider webbing in the plaster. The lights fade in and out as the sparks fly from the lightbulb. The ceiling collapses. The monks were right, I would have been so much safer if I had stayed in the monastery.